#Apple Music voice control

[tez-world1]

Headline: Siri Just Got a Whole Lot Smarter! 🤯 Body: HomePod 18.2 is HERE and it's a game-changer! Say goodbye to robotic Siri commands and hello to natural language music control. Now you can ask Siri for "upbeat tunes" or "something relaxing" and it actually understands! Check out our latest blog post to see how this incredible update transforms your listening experience. Link: http://tezlinks.blogspot.com/2024/12/homepod-182-siri-gets-natural-language.html Image: [Image from blog post] #HomePod #Siri #AppleMusic #SmartSpeaker #TechUpdate #Music #AI #Apple

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[ghostarii]

HALLUCINOGEN (LOSING YOUR MIND), KAFKA

ʚɞ blurred lines of reality and illusions, meistered by an illusory manifestation of deep desires and wanton bliss bring about an enlightenment far beyond anything holy.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, praise, slapping, nipple play, spit, hair pulling, cunnilingus, overstimulation, implied inexperienced!reader, biblical(?) references but no explicit relation, fingering, corruption kink, kafka teasing, minors & non nb/wlw do not interact.

NOTE ݈݇- soo . . . i won’t get into where i’ve been but just know i’m going through a lot And desperately need a distraction. i’ve turned my brain off n wrote this w my pssy so if it gets crazy blame her! jus in need of som mindless horny fun 😞😞

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 3.3k

COLORFUL STROBES FLICKER WITH reckless abandon, jumping in excited juxtaposition to the smooth, dance beat that plays through the speakers. Lucidity fills the room—you’re hyper-aware yet unconscious: watching everything from an existential position and you're drunk off the omnipotence. It coats your body in this mesmerizing feel beyond comprehension. Something so shimmery and soft that you find comfort in it, yet houndingly aggressive that you're thrashed around in its throes. It only amplifies as time passes and you can't feel any fucking better.

Everything feels intense. On a molecular level, you can feel everything, and it’s a sensation that’s beyond your expectations. It's like…subhuman—or, no, rather, extraterrestrial: akin to otherworldly intensities that cannot be created nor replicated on Earth. You are somewhere else, reaching the heights beyond existence that bathe you in sweaty warmth and glittery kisses.

Not Heaven nor Nirvana, but something nameless. Something seedier and gutsy, gnarled in debauched patterns of unholiness and temptations, wrong in every right way, and bad in every good way. Where or whatever it is is uncharted but it is shared— and you’d stay here with her until it fades into nothingness.

You will stay here with her until it fades into nothingness. She is the nucleus of this illusory ecstasy-scape, and in her hands, you are guided along a path of pure, unadulterated, fantasy.

She is made up of raw vulgarity: it in its purest form as something seduces you into her proximity, begging you to bite the apple and see the light.

Just do it, it’d be so easy.

Don’t you want to taste it? The juice…the sweetness…feel the bite in your jaw?…

Put your mouth to it, let it lead you…

The voice in your head is distant yet wholly present. Almost as though it were whispering in your ear while directing your movements, pushing you deeper into the darkness. Where the light doesn't reach and the ambiguity of the following heightens is where it dwells: perfect, round, and red—shiny and plump and enticing—

Doesn't it look delicious?

It does.

Grab it, then.

It's in your hands now. Caressing it, you admire its magnificence. Soft skin, unplagued by irregularities and blemishes, rosy and inviting.

Bite it.

You lean in.

Head cocked at an opportune angle, lips parted readily, you lean forward…

A bite like a kiss…

A kiss like a bite?

Tender nibbles upon contact quickly morph into sloppy openings. Everything slops and clashes together, fighting aggressively in search of a fix. Fill that hungry, haunting void that grumbles in your stomach, aching terribly for sustenance.

You moan for it— whimpering a pathetic Please against her mouth and resting your forehead against hers. “Gimme…”

She laughs, cupping your pouty face in her palms. “Sweet girl,” she says, pecking your lips. “What do you need from me?”

Everything.

Her kisses feel like pillows all over your face. Gentle presses in a scattered manner, showering you with tender affection that blooms in your chest.

The heft that controlled your body has now morphed into feather-lightness—as though you weigh nothing and are floating across the Heavens. The colorful lights and bass-boosted music have ceased and you now reside in a dark room, illuminated by a single, dim night table lamp and ambient light leaking through crimson curtains. A bed sits beneath you, soft like clouds and cushioning you as you’re laid down on it, limbs stretched beneath her straddling.

She continues to kiss down your body, leaving your face and heading South to your neck, where her mouth latches and suckles on the skin. Your body has an immediate reaction: your eyes are fluttering closed and your hips are gyrating upwards, where your core catches her thigh and the throb that pumps through it harshens. You gasp out, grabbing the back of her head and tangling your fingers through her plum locks, pulling out the ponytail holder and letting limp curls coil down your forearm.

“You taste so good..so sweet,” she mumbles, pulling at the flimsy fabric of your top until the fabric screeches, a tear forming in the center. She continues to pull until the red garment is split in half, discarded to the side, and leaving you in your white bra. It's decorated in lace swirls and vines across the cups, peeking over in a rosette border that teases your assets. Enveloped in intricacies, you’re displayed beneath her as a decadent confection—ready to be devoured into nothingness. “I can’t get enough of you.” She says.

The silver clasp glints in her eye as it sits between your cleavage, asking for a break as your breasts hold it hostage. “May I?”

“Please,” you breathe out. At your heed, she pulls the hook apart with ease, and your boobs jump out of their confines.

She helps you shrug the material off your shoulders, soon tossing it off the side of your cloud-bed and leaving you bare from the waist up. You don't try to cower under attention. Instead, you revel in it, bathing in the rose tint she views you in and presenting yourself.

Humor is found in your actions, and she can't help but crack a smile at you. Her hand drives up from your navel and passes through the valley of your breasts to grapple around your neck. Fingers immediately press on the pressure points in your neck, making your [already] heavy eyes droop harder and your lips purse and part. You're lifted slightly off the bed, inches away from her face as she hovers over you.

“I don't know where to start,” she says, softly. “There’s so many things I want to do to you.”

“Do it all.” You lean up, chasing the distant feel of her lips. She hesitates to indulge you, going back and forth between leaning in and creating distance, leaving her in a silent push and pull where she defiantly fights the magnetism. “I'm all yours—”

“Mm mm.” She hums, shaking her head. She can't do this, she can't do you.

You nod your head, almost eagerly, chasing her lips. “Use me.”

No. She shakes her head no, leaning further back.

“Take me.” You say, following her actions.

No. I can’t.

“Ruin me.”

Her hand weakens around your neck, and you're quick to grab it, returning it to its place around your neck. Your eyes are polished and wide, wordlessly begging her for attention.

Meek squeaks slip out of your mouth as her grip returns, the pressure she applies being much tighter and more restrictive than previously. Still, your lips still find the courage to pull into a small smile, parting and making way for the whisper your voice has turned into. “Kafka,” you moan out, her name heavy on your tongue, “fuck me.”

She sits before you, sweet purplish hair framing around her pale frame, juxtaposing the deep, salacious fuschia that glares at you. An almost taunting glow emits from her as she ponders her next course of action— should she turn her mind off and act aimlessly, or should she retreat with sensibility? She's already come thus far, she’s already molded you in her palm, she's already invented a paradise for you…it is yours to defile as you please.

If you must beg her so wantonly, as though you’ll die without feeling her version of pleasure, she must forfeit the fight and succeed in the throes of ecstasy. She has been tempted.

Your wish is obliged with care. She pins you beneath her, diving back into where she left off with a searing fervor. Her lips leave stains of her red lipstick smeared across your chest, trailing streakily across the surface until she kisses around your right tit.

A line is drawn by her tongue from beneath your underboob area to your areola, pebbling the skin in her wake. Your nipples perk and harden, the left immediately becoming a target of bullying from her pinching fingers. Sharp, black almond nails cover the bud as she tweaks it harshly, immediately subduing your wince by licking over your right nipple.

Her eyes stay on your face as she enacts so, carefully dancing her tongue over and around it until she sucks it into her mouth, mimicking the suction with the pinch of her fingers. You moan out, throwing your head back and greeting the swirling sight of stars and glimmering streaks. They paint upon a blacked-out view, covering the inside of your eyelids with the visual manifestation of how you feel. Elated. Content. Pleasured. Something you've never felt before and it is…wow.

“Kaf…” you meekly whimper, unable to even say the rest of her name. Your hand presses her face closer to your chest, almost aiming to slowly ease your entire body into her mouth. It feels so fucking good— like nothing you've ever felt before and you don't want her to stop.

Your body is warm to the touch and it feels like your veins are pumping pure stardust. Her tongue swirls and loops around your nipple, slopping spit and vocal vibrations all over the sensitive bud, eliciting the sweetest broken moans from you. They're unabashed and full of weight, carrying the load of untouched desire.

How long have you been waiting for this?

Too long.

Was it worth the wait?

So, so worth it.

What do you want next?

“Touch me.” You don't even mean to say it out loud, but it slips out amongst the flurry of gasps you puff. Hips bucking desperately in search of something only to meet a sufficient source once every few thrusts. It’s not enough, you need the tingle between your legs tended to. “G-Goddammit, Kaf, please…”

She needs not another instruction, simply obliging your request with her hand making work of your pants, undoing the pesky clasps. Separating from you, she uses the opportunity to rid of her shirt, sliding her pants down her legs and kicking it all to the floor. Her hands grab at the belt loops, tugging the tight fabric slowly down your legs while maintaining eye contact.

Don’t take your eyes off me.

She doesn't even need to say it. You know it— as though it were an innate action hardwired into your very being.

You watch her intently as your pants are finally pulled off your legs, leaving the limbs angled up on her chest. Discarding your pants to the side, she runs her hands up and down your legs, kissing down the left from your ankle to your shin, to your knee, to your thigh, over to the other leg, and going back up.

“So patient..good girl. Letting me take my time with you…” she says, breathily. Kissing back down your leg, slowly positioning herself eye-level with your cunt. She licks a line from your hamstring to your panty-clad cunt, eyes still never leaving you. She kisses firmly on the wet spot that stretches over the seat of your white panties, leaving the remnants of her lipstick on the fabric in a kiss mark. You’re hot, throbbing, and soaking— primed for her demolition. “Want me here?”

You nod furiously, pushing yourself into her face. “Need you there.” You correct, hooking your fingers under the band of your underwear and awkwardly shimmying the garment off.

“Needy little thing, aren't you?” She muses, tucking her hair behind her ears. You slowly unveil yourself to her, letting the stuffy air draft over your wetness, pushing shivers down your spine. “Just waiting and waiting..oh, ‘m sorry…”

The prettiest pussy she’s ever seen awaits her attention. Eagerly beating at her, your cunt drools and shines, drowning itself in an overwhelming amount of arousal that even beads off the curve of your ass. All of this for her, only for her, because of her…Kafka might just be the luckiest woman in the universe.

She wedges herself tighter between your legs, feeling the heat that burns in you and smelling the sweetness just waiting to be swallowed. Her eyes go back up to you, catching the tears of frustration building, and her smile breaks wider.

“‘M sorry for making you wait so long.”

Spread ‘em.

You spread your legs wider to make space for her head, immediately throwing your head back when her exhale fans over your cunt.

Her tongue darts immediately toward your slobbering hole, licking up the tracks of arousal that spill down the fat of your ass. She slams her dominant hand down on your cheek, giving it a soft rub as she giggles at your wince-whimper combination. Her tongue draws looping circles around your entrance, slipping down and licking up the stray beads. She then drives it back up to your hole, pushing the muscle into your tight entrance with little force. Your eyes shoot open and you're adjusting to the new sensation, watching her intently as she creates a hard pace: in, out, in, out until she flickers the tip of her tongue over your fluttering hole and licks a flat strip halfway up through your folds before repeating.

The taste of you is already intoxicating. Unparalleled to anyone before you— you are pure and dripping raw ecstasy, lighting her body up in the wake of lightning. She can't get enough and moans into your cunt, rolling and spinning her tongue around your walls.

She hooks your right leg over her shoulder, slinking her arm beneath the limb and slithering her fingers to your neglected clit. Just hovering over the bud makes you shiver and buck into her mouth, so she takes the initiative to drive you fucking insane. Kafka must have some sort of magic touch, or she can read you like a first-grade book, because she presses down on the bud, rubbing it in a smooth back and forth. Your mind immediately short circuits and you're back on that illusory plane, feeling everything with such great intensity that you feel your orgasm building already.

Clenching around her tongue and bucking into her mouth lets Kafka know that you're about to cum. She pulls off, building up a ball of spit on her tongue and dropping it off between your folds.

Her ministrations on your clit cease as she uses her two fingers to part your labia, licking boldly between your lips and collecting a heap of sticky slick on her tongue. She hums contently, swallowing down the fluid with dramatized vocalizations and intense eye contact.

“You taste so good, baby.” She moans, sliding her left hand into her panties. She begins touching herself, grinding on her hand while licking the taste of you off her lips. “Want you to cum in my mouth, okay? Make..a big mess for me,”

She moans out so vulgarly, letting her hand on your pussy falter and tickle over your puffy clit.

It's only now that you see Kafka: untamed. This is her in her rawest form— lust-gone and hungry. Wasting no time in leaning forward and attacking your clit, sucking the bud with such eagerness that she hollows her cheeks, squeaking our obnoxious sucking sounds that bounce off the walls. The suction is so harsh that you can't help but screech, grabbing her hair and pulling the handful of locks taut against her skull.

You can tell she likes that. So you do it again, simultaneously humping into her mouth.

Be rough.

She tries to pull back but you keep her there, forcing her nose to sit atop the mound of your pussy and asphyxiating her slowly.

Be mean.

“That's it— l-like that..! F-fuck, Kaf,” you sputter, the new flickering of her tongue over your clit eliciting sharp rods of lightning to pierce all over your body. You have no control over the moans that leave your mouth because your body is so beyond itself—receiving a kind of satisfaction never experienced before and it's reveling in that, boiling itself in pure heat and pushing out creamy bubbles. “Fuck—make me cum.”

She forces her head up against the behest of your hand, gasping in a big heap of air. Her face is flushed and wet, wearing the effect your pussy leaves on her, and yet, it still earns a piercing slap that sends her head in the opposite direction.

Oh, good. That was good.

Before you can stumble out an apology, she sneers at you. “Yeah? Is that how you're feeling?”

You didn't mean to do it—you don't know what came over you— “N-no—”

“Do it again.”

Kafka’s word is absolute and you have no room to disobey. You cock your arm back and swing, slapping her with a lot less force than before.

She grabs your hand and forces it to the back of her head, and you instinctively grab onto the hair. “Remember what you do to me…” she says, sticking her fingers into her mouth and suckling on the digits. Just as she pops them out of her mouth and directs them to your pussy, she looks back up at you. “You’re in control. Make me.”

Famous last fucking words.

The next few actions are melted together in a blur of galaxies and tears, ceasing to have a tangible visual but proceeding to wreck your body into oblivion. Kafka has sucked your clit until it's swollen, pleading to be left alone but consistently the target of merciless abuse. It doesn't help that it acts as though it were a self-destruct button—every ministration rendering your body stiff and turbulent: quivering beneath rigid curlings and tightenings.

You’re coasting through the skies with her head working between your legs, sucking the taste right off your pussy until it cries some more. It is an endless cycle of overwhelming pleasure that only builds upon itself, forming into an unstable, grandeur tower of lusty goodness that threatens to come crashing down.

She licks and sucks fervently, determined to yank your orgasm from your depths and taste the purest essence of you. And you are a victim to it— pulling half of her hair into a makeshift ponytail and fucking yourself on her face, desperately chasing the epicenter of your orgasm to make it let go.

“F-fucking me s-so good, Kaf—!” You squeal, feeling your stomach bubble and tighten. “C-close!!!”

Let go.

It's too much. It's so fucking good—good Lord—

Just cum.

Rightthererightthere– “Hnngggh—just like t-that! Shit!”

She sucks so hungrily on your pussy, eating you like a rabid dog on a fresh piece of meat. Her tongue is doing this you can't even describe and the images you see as a result are skewed.

Pretty visuals of clouds raining intergalactic hearts over a foggy sky and lightning streaks of ecstasy fill your fucked up head, imitating the euphoric feeling imposed on your body. You're so close—your body twitches and your eyes cry, pleasured sobs leaving your mouth as everything good attacks you all at once.

Be a good girl. Cum.

Kafka’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she feels your floodgates break— the orgasmic wave pushing out of your pussy and all over her face. The cry that's ripped from your throat is visceral and guttural, tearing your throat to shreds and rendering you a weeping mess.

If getting eaten felt good, orgasming feels even better. It feels cosmic—irreplaceable and delectable from beginning to end. And Kafka fucks you through it, flicking her tongue through your folds and slurping up your juices with a wide smile.

Give in; let it take you.

Stuck in the heat of euphoria, you only float higher to heights uncharted, soaring freely. Light reaches out to you in fragmented rays, calling to you in the galactic darkness to follow its way.

This is goodness. Everything holy and unholy; everything sacred and desecrated; everything clean and everything dirty; a culmination of unchained, terrific bliss right in your core.

It was always there, you just needed it out of you.

Now that you have it, nothing will be the same. So long as it still exists.

[petew21-blog]

Uncharted territory

Danny made sure that he had everything. His costume of Nathan Drake from Uncharted was amazing for this year's Comic Con. He was inspired after he saw his bully dressed as him for Halloween. He needed to be better, but unfortunately he didn't have the muscles to show off. So he went for the shirt.

The bully looked so good. Danny even saved the photo from his instagram and jerked off to it, imagining that he would go to Comic Con as him. He would definitely get a LOT of attention.

He was about to head out to wait for his friend Martin to pick him up. But before leaving he decided to fully use his costume and play one last quick game of Uncharted before leaving.

Danny turned on the play station, excited to start his immersive experience.

The game launched and Danny clicked continue. But something was different. His controller was vibrating and overheating. Something was wrong. Danny felt a force pulling him into the game. He wanted to let go of the controller, but it was too late.

He opened his eyes. Gone was his nerdy room with comic books and a computer set. He looked around to see the jungle surrounding him. He looked down. His Nathan Drake outfit now fit way better then before. But his hands were entirely different. They were strong, veiny and hairy, not like his teen body. His shirt was strechted over his bulking pecs and the buttons of his shirt did a really bad job of covering his hairy torso.

"Oh no" he said out loud noticing the sudden voice change. He put his hand up to his throat to feel the protruding adam's apple. His hand continued and felt the stubble on his face.

"No fucking way" he tried to search for something that would show him his reflection, but the only thing he found was his knife. He pulled it out to take a look at his new face.

"Holy shit. I'm Nathan Drake! No way!" his manly voice was so erotic.

He turned around and grinned.

"I am Nathan Drake. And I am in my own game of Uncharted, with fictional characters and no one who could judge me." his grin was now even more apparent. He immediately ripped off his clothing he had on.

His body was sweaty from the humidity of the jungle, but also from the thrill Danny was now experiencing. He took a whiff of his new armpits. "Ooooh. That smells so... manly!" his hands traced the hairy line of his chest over to his abs. "These are amazing"

He came back to try out his nipples. They were really sensitive. He played with them for a while.

And the jawline! Danny would kill to look like this forever.

Everything was different. No more skinny arms, no more hairless body, no more struggles to grow a beard. No more...

He froze in place. There was one thing he definitely needed to check out

His hand made its way aggresively into his pants. There it was. A beautiful thick meat. Danny felt the weight of it. It was perfect. He never even hoped to be such a stud.

He was ready to enjoy his body fully, but something happened. He started moving through the jungle. His shirt appeared back on his body. His body was moving as if something else was controlling it. There was a background music, which was more and more intense every second. The mission started. He had to fight for his life. But Danny felt as if he had no control of it. And the thing that controlled him did so many stupid mistakes. And then it happened. He died. Danny felt the pain in his body. Overwhelming and liberating at the same time. He closed his eyes.

Danny was forced to open them again. The mission restarted. "What the hell?" someone was playing the game. And Danny was now trapped as Nathan in the game.

The first death was one of MANY. Danny stopped counting after he reached number 28. He just prayed for it to end soon.

Meanwhile, in front of his Playstation sat his body, playing the Uncharted, grinning.

"I'll teach you how to play the game. I'll show you what it's like to die over and over again!"

Nathan was making sure to let Danny Die in his body as many times as possible.

His phone was vibrating.

"Hey. Yeah I'm ready. I'll just close the game and will meet you downstairs." Nathan tried the best impression of Danny to not raise any suspiciouns.

Nathan grinned mischievously.

He ran to the car.

Martin:"What took you so long?"

Nathan:"I had to fix settings in my game. It was too easy."

Martin:"Ok. You ready for comic con?"

Nathan:"Yes, sir"

Danny's struggles unfortunately did not end, because Nathan made sure to leave the game on and not only that. Nathan somehow messed with the settings and the story. Nathan's enemy - Atoq Navarro was now present after every death Danny went through.

What was horrible wasn't his presence, but the fact that he was 3 times bigger and his only goal was to fill Nathan's body with his cum. EVERYTHING was 3 times bigger and Atoq needed Nathan filled up.

Danny:"I hope they come back from Comic Con soon. I'm not sure how many fillings I can take." but Danny knew that he was now a character in the game. There were no limits for his pleasant suffering.

Anonymous request from Inbox

What about a swap between a cosplayer and the character in game? Like someone cosplaying as Nathan drake from Uncharted getting swapped with the ingame character while the ingame character gets put in the real world to play the video game?

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; in true ramshackle fashion, you confess to vil through a chaotic song, and it doesn't have the intended effect.

— notes; this was fun to write hehe. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ After weeks of pining, you finally decide to pluck up your courage and confess to Vil in a way that feels grand and romantic — because, of course, Vil deserves nothing less.

❋ You consult with your friends before finally deciding on a grand romantic gesture: a heartfelt serenade under the stars.

❋ Grim, Ace, and Deuce eagerly volunteer to help, sensing both chaos and entertainment in your (poorly thought-out) plan. And you manage to rope in Epel, of all people, to help you compose a song.

❋ You would have been better off enlisting Rook’s help.

❋ Epel takes his role of the group’s lyricist very seriously. Unfortunately, most of the song consists of poetic potato metaphors, given Vil’s penchant of calling everyone by that nickname.

“Your hair is as golden as a potato, it surrounds your face like a beautiful halo.” “You’re the flawless gem in my potato patch; my heart turns to mash around you.”

❋ You think it’s an absolute masterpiece, and none of your friends have the heart to tell you otherwise.

❋ The four of you sneak over to Pomefiore in the dead of night, armed with precisely two things: nerves of steel, and some old instruments you’ve found up in the dorm’s dusty attic.

❋ Grim provides lighting and ambience with his flames, Ace makes a valiant effort to pluck at the strings of his borrowed guitar, and Deuce shakes his tambourine with far too much enthusiasm, it’s almost enough to drown out your painfully off-key singing.

❋ And there you stand in the centre of it all, holding a bouquet of wildflowers (still with the muddy roots attached) and warbling singing your heart out, your voice cracking from nerves and the lack of practice.

❋ Instead of romantic ambiance, it’s pure chaos. Birds startle out of the trees. Lights flicker on in nearby dorm rooms. The nearby students think a murder has just taken place on the grounds.

❋ All the noise music has the intended effect of summoning the object of your affections.

❋ Draped in a pink satin robe, Vil appears at the window, his hair in a perfect loose braid, and a silk sleep mask pushed up to his forehead. Really, it’s unfair how effortlessly flawless he looks even in the dead of night. He doesn’t interrupt your performance but instead folds his arms and watches, his expression caught between bewilderment and judgment.

“You’re the apple of my eye, my sweet potato prince, please go out with me, don’t make me cry!”

❋ You finish the song with a dramatic flourish, slightly out of breath. You’re still holding onto that bouquet, staring up at Vil with wide, hopeful eyes.

❋ There’s a pause before Vil pinches the bridge of his nose with a deep exhale. In a flutter of pink, he descends the stairs to meet you, looking like a queen poised to address her court.

❋ Instead of swooning into your arms, Vil stands before you, his eyes narrowed and his voice a mask of carefully controlled calm. “Prefect,” he begins. “Do you honestly expect me to be wooed by that . . . Performance?”

❋ And you’ve opened up the floodgates; Vil’s perfectionist tendencies take over and he spends the next ten minutes giving a detailed breakdown of how the performance could be improved.

“Prefect, your pitch is horrendous, and you’re completely off-tempo.” “Ace, never pick up a guitar again. Your rhythm was an assault on my ear drums.” “Deuce, why are you even here? Your tambourine skills are atrocious." “And you — Grim! What were you thinking, using fire in such a haphazard manner? Do you want to set Pomefiore ablaze?” “The lyrics are positively horrendous. Who even writes about potatoes in a confession?”

❋ Vil’s lecture lasts for all of ten minutes (Ace kept count).

❋ You remain silent through it all, but you’re just about ready to combust from embarrassment as Vil continues his critique.

❋ Finally, he falls silent with a final, dramatic sigh. "If you wanted my attention, you didn’t need to orchestrate such a . . . Spectacle. Though I will admit, the effort is . . . Endearing. Misguided, but endearing.” He softens just slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he reaches for the bouquet of flowers, careful to avoid the muddy roots.

❋ He turns on his heel to leave, but pauses on the doorstep, his back to you. “By the way . . . I would prefer some red roses the next time you come for a visit.” He disappears back into Pomefiore, leaving the group in a stunned silence.

❋ Wait.

❋ Next time?

❋ Was that . . . An invitation for a second chance? Ace immediately confirms this with a triumphant yell, and you can’t help but grin, feeling like a love-sick fool despite your bruised ego and the lingering humiliation.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x Horner Daughter! Reader - Smut

Barely any plot, just straight up filthy porn. You’re Christian Horner’s daughter in her early twenties (no inappropriate age gap, let’s say 12 years max, Daniel is 34 but I’ll leave that down to whatever you’re comfortable with. You and Danny sneak off during the British 2023 GP. Anybody want a part 2 to this?

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” The Australian moaned into her thick hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her apple shampoo. “Fuck..” he groaned out, knowing how badly he shouldn’t be in this position, not with her, not when he worked so closely with her dad, not when there was a race going on just outside of this room. “We really shouldn’t do this.” He moaned again, feeling the tickle of her nimble fingers unbuckling his belt. “Nobody’s gonna know.” She whispered, slowing down her actions as she tilted her head back up to face him. He was so handsome, tanned, muscular arms popping out of his black Red Bull shirt. She analysed his expression, a soft smile lingering as he watched back to her, waiting for her next move, his Adam’s apple bobbed, indicating the tension he felt. Even without his stressed gulp, she could feel the rock hard bulge that grew in his pants embarrassingly fast when she tugged him into the changing room. “Are you sure?” His larger hands smoothed over her shoulders, the touch of her skin intoxicating as he battled with the idea of carrying on with this.

The two had always flirted, Daniel always got nervous when she was about, staring at her for a little longer than everybody else did, adjusting his pants when she’d purposefully bend over in front of him. But now, this was different, this is what years of tension had reduced him to. “I’m positive, Daniel.” She muttered, pulling the belt from the loop now as he leaned back on the wall, swallowing again as he watched her swift movements.

“Fuck-“ he cursed again, the Australian twang causing her to hum as she smiled up to him seductively. “You can’t tell me you haven’t wanted this for months.” As the words fell off her tongue, Daniel felt her fingers inch closer to his twitching dick, needing more of her than he cared to admit. “I see the way you look at me.” She was confident, it was so good, Daniel was just about to reply when her hand slipped into his Calvin Kleins, resulting in an open mouthed moan to fall out of his lips. It was music to her ears. “Fuck, y/n, I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He was so painfully turned on, it hurt, but his hand caught her smaller wrist, halting her from wrapping her fingers around his erect cock. She gulped harshly, looking back to him as he straightened his back now, dropping his forehead.

“You can’t?” Her voice was light and airy, fingers still brushing over the hardness in his pants. “Fuck.” The taller man repeated again, hips involuntarily thrusting at the sensation. “D-do that again.” He then muttered, feeling her fingers stroke up and down his sensitive cock. His hand still caught her wrist, tightly, but as she smoothed over him he found himself pushing her further into his pants, a guttural moan escaping his mouth. He looked like a work of art, she thought, his eyes were heavy lidded, sometimes closed as his lips were hung slightly agape at the pleasant sensation.

“Really shouldn’t, but it feels so good.” He admitted with a soft laugh at how easily he’d given in. Daniel didn’t think he had the self control to stop. He wanted it, just as badly as she did. His whole abdomen was on fire, feeling her small hand wrap around him, tugging gently, pausing a moment to spit on her hand before returning to her movements, jerking him off at a mediocre pace.

Daniel hummed, hand moving up to the back of her neck, stroking the skin he’d always dreamt off. “Kiss me.” He panted. “Fuck, fuck, kiss me.” Their lip clashed together, meeting in an open mouth, hungry kiss that reeked of desperation. Her hands sped her movement, as Daniel moaned into the kiss, the blaring music from the inside of the paddock giving them some leeway with the noises they wanted to make.

Daniel pushed his hand against the wall, watching her wank him off in his pants. His eyes fixated on the bouncing of her tits, her pretty little sundress slipping down off one shoulder… he eased the other one down her arm, exposing her perky breasts as she let out a soft sigh at the cold air reaching her sensitive nipples.

“Touch me Daniel.” She whimpered, feeling her whole body utterly aching for some kind of attention. Daniel didn’t hesitate, licking his fingers and stroking over one of her pierced nipples. “Do you like them?” She moaned. “Fuckin’ love them, shit… keep stroking me like that.” He nodded, bending down to catch her right nipple between his lips. He grew quickly to realise her nipples were really fucking sensitive as he played with them, her whole body on fire as he began bucking his hips into hers.

“I know you’ve wanted this, Daniel.” She whispered, gasping as she removed her hand from his pants in order to slip the dress down to her hips. Her clothed pussy hurt she needed him that bad. The lack of contact drive Daniel crazy.

“Wanted my tits in your mouth, my hand down your pants.” She whined as he groaned against her breasts, licking a stripe up to her lips were they engaged in another messy kiss.

“Those pretty dress’s you wear.” He groaned, growing hornier by the second as he tugged her by the back of her hips into his front. Their crotch’s met and she let out a satisfied whimper at the contact, snatching him closer and tugging up his shirt. “Wanted to get under them so fucking bad.” He admitted as she hummed kissing his lips a little slower before retracting and holding his face to meet his eye.

“Did you think about me?” Her hand began smoothing up her skirt, disappearing under the cloth as Daniel’s eyes frantically glanced back and fourth from her face and where she began touching herself, slowly but very surely. Daniel wanted to see, he felt perverted when his own hand went to his cock, pulling himself out to begin fisting at his pulsating member.

“All the time.” Daniel then exhaled, glancing down at the movements between the two of them as they masturbated back to one another. “What did you think about?” She giggled, a little shyly which drove him crazy. He let out a breathy moan, head lolling forewords as she watched the intense curl and hardening of his bicep every time he wanked himself back and fourth.

“Fuck, I just wanna get you to myself, put my cock between those pretty tits of yours. And that mouth.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting all of this, it was so dirty, borderline sinful, but in that moment, he didn’t care. His mind flashed back to all the times he’d cum over his stomach and hands thinking about her, spending endless evenings confused as to why he harboured such strong feelings for a girl so off limits.

“Yeah?” She moaned, fingers rolling a little faster over her clit. “You want your cock in my mouth?” She pushed the rest of her dress on the floor, left in only a tiny pair of white underwear as she fell down with her discarded clothing.

Daniel was in shock, his voice hitched when her lips wrapped around his cock, leaking precum onto her warm tongue. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I bet it feels so good knowing you’ve got me on my knees, Daniel.” He moaned shamelessly, the suction of her cheeks hollowing around his penis making him feel dangerously good. “You’d get in so much trouble for this.” She giggled as he watched her in amaze, her tongue rolling over the sensitivity of his balls. “I don’t care… I don’t care.” The polite, sunshine like side of him had been replaced with one even he barely recognised. He felt too good to give two shits and if anybody barged in, even if it was Jesus, he couldn’t stop what they’d started. “Mmmmh.” She hummed against his cock, hands cupping and squeezing his balls lightly as an open mouthed smile covered his face as he leant against the wall. Daniel was stupidly close, if he didn’t pull her back up, he would’ve came directly down her throat with warning. Whilst the thought seemed good, Daniel didn’t want it to end that way. “I’m gonna fuck you now.” He told her, almost like a warning as he left her with a bruising kiss, spinning her around. Daniel licked his fingers, letting out a throaty moan when they collided with her wet warmth, rubbing over her entrance. If he wasn’t so desperate to fuck her then he’d take his time to divulge in this pussy. He could’ve played with her for hours.

She giggled again, a playful moan leaving her mouth as he spun her around, kneeling her up on the bench that she rested all fours on. “Be a good girl…” Daniel muttered sending a wave of butterflies for her. “Be a good girl and take it.” He smoothed a hand over her back before gently pushing into her. The stretch of her tight cunt was delicious, her back arching as a heavenly moan escaped her lips.

“That okay?” He shakily breathed out. “Yeah… please, fuck me, Daniel.” She begged, feeling him slowly thrust in and out of her, both of them adjusting to the tightness and just how deep he reached. “Fuck, you’re big.” She whimpered, pushing her hips back into his, shaking her bum a little to adjust to the sensation. Daniel wanted to fuck her senseless, he was just waiting for her to give the green light.

“Fuck you’re so big.” She gasped as his cock reached deep within her, with barely any warm up it was a lot to take. “That’s it, that’s it baby, push back on my cock.” Daniel spoke louder now, another moan escaping her lips as he pushed back into her, enjoying the delicious noises she made as he restrained himself.

“Daniel.” She choked out as he opened his eyes, running a hand over her upper back. He was gentle now, struggling to take in all her beauty without admitting the feelings he had lingering inside of him. “You okay?”

“It’s so good.” She groaned as Daniels eyes darkened in lust. “I want more.” She whined. “Please, I want more. I want it harder.”

“I’ll give you it, baby.” Daniel hushed, stroking her hair back slightly before he fucked back into her, her moans egging him on more and more. He was giving her deep, shallow thrusts, pulling her front up to press against his chest. Daniel was huffing and puffing, moaning into her ear as her dirty rambled tightened a knot in his stomach.

“Oh god, Daniel!” She squeaked, finger nails digging into his tanned arm as he groaned out, almost giving into the desire to cum. Just a few more seconds, and he’d be there… “Cum.” Daniel grunted out, feeling her fingers trail down to her clit where she was frantically rubbing. “Cum. Cum all over this cock, y/n.” The noises he was making was so lewd, mixed with the wet slapping of skin, she could feel herself reaching the edge as she frantically bounced back, her desire reaching a boiler point.

“I’m gonna cum! Fuck harder, Daniel! Fuck me harder!” Daniel let out another groan, fucking into her at a bruising pace, his balls pressing up against her ass as she wildly cried out, his hand slapping over her mouth as he pressed his lips to her ear. “Cum all over me.” He borderline whined, hearing her moans become more and more high pitched, the angelic noises she cried out sending him to heaven and back as she gripped onto him for dear life. He watched over her contorted face, beautiful, and her body, hips snapping into hers causing her tits to bounce which he grabbed, nipping at her nipple as her whole body tensed. “Cum-cumming, Daniel!” She choked, before several loud moans fell out of her mouth, her orgasm being overwhelmingly strong as every inch of her body jittered and shook, the most intense wave of pleasure causing her to fall limp as her pussy pulsates mercilessly around his weeping cock.

Daniel couldn’t handle the harsh pace, his breathing was loud and shaky and the tightening of her pussy during her orgasm tipped him over the edge. “Fuck! Shit!” He cursed, letting out a growl as his cock exploded his semen all over her ass and shot up her back. He hadn’t cum in over a week, and now he was experiencing the most intense orgasm as his head dropped on her shoulder, kissing there lightly.

The only thing that brought him back around was her gentle whimpers as she ground back against his sensitive cock head. She easily slipped in with how wet she was, milking both of their orgasms as Daniel hugged her close. “Daniel.” She sighed as he nudged his nose against the skin between her neck and shoulder. When he regained the ability to, he cursed at his semen spread across her back, using some tissue paper from the dispenser to tidy her up. There was no post-nut clarity. He didn’t feel ashamed, or dirty, he thought she looked beautiful, and his satisfactions were met, as was hers. The only thing that deterred him was the guilt of having to work with her father in minutes time, Daniel wasn’t so sure of giving into his fantasies was so… clever or respectful.

[babyleostuff]

your smile | JEON WONWOO

summary | reading date with wonwoo in the comfort of your shared apartment

genre | fluff

word count | 871

pairing | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

"What should we listen to?" Wonwoo asked right as you walked into the living room with a book in your hand.

"Whatever you feel like. I chose last time." A moment later soft tunes of your favorite album started playing, and along with the LED lights and a couple of candles it only added to the cozy feeling your shared apartment had.

This little act of your boyfriend - putting the music he knows you like, even though it's his turn to choose, puts a small smile on your face, making you even happier than you already were.

Having an afternoon for yourselves, not worrying about work or any chores, you both decided to have a stay at home date, with food and books.

Wonwoo already had his gaming live today at the company, so you didn't have to worry about your boyfriend bailing on you mid chapter and gaming his ass off until dawn, which was always a nice thing.

"Do we have everything?" he wondered, taking a seat next to you on the big sofa, which was now covered with fluffy blankets and lots of pillows.

"I'm just going to grab something to drink, so we don't have to get up later. Oh, and we need chopsticks. Anything else?"

"I don't think so,"

"Okay, I'll be right back."

As much as you loved going out with Wonwoo, exploring the city, going to nice restaurants or simply taking a casual stroll by the Han river, nothing would ever top your at home dates.

Being both so comfortable with each other - no fancy clothes, no makeup, no pressure to look your best and no stressing about being recognised by other people. You could savor the comfortable silence, each with a separate book and your feet in his lap.

A barefaced Wonwoo with his glasses and an oversized t-shirt was just a bonus to all of this. He's really the definition of boyfriend material.

While in the kitchen, beside drinks and chopsticks you grabbed extra snacks for Wonwoo, as he always likes to have something to munch on while reading. In addition you also grabbed an apple juice box, one of the many sitting in your refrigerator.

Quickly making your way back to the living room, you couldn't help, but admire your boyfriend for a second. He was sitting comfortably under one of the many blankets, his glasses at the tip of his nose while he was smiling at something on his phone.

Seeing him so happy was like a cup of tea on a winter morning. Without a doubt, him smiling was the best thing in the world and seeing him do it so often in these past months was the biggest dream come true.

He is one of the strongest people you know, but even he couldn't always hide his sadness and pain, so seeing him getting his happiness back is everything you could've asked for.

"Everything alright?" suddenly you were pulled back to reality, by Wonwoo's gentle voice, that so often lulled you to sleep.

"Yeah, just zoned out a little. Here, your gummies," you handed him all of his snacks along with a water bottle and a set of chopsticks.

"When did you get them? They weren't there in the morning."

"I saw you eating them in your live today," you explained. "So, I decided to buy some. You always like to snack when you're reading and gaming."

Wonwoo usually saw himself as a very stoic person, who was good at controlling his emotions, but you always proved him wrong.

His gaze turned to the softest expression known to mankind and he couldn't help himself but kiss the side of your head in a loving manner as a thank you.

Not being able to resist your boyfriend's sweet action, you put your hand at the back of his head, running your fingers through his short hair, that made him look so adorable when not styled.

"How much of the book do you have left?" he asked, as you both snuggled under the warm blankets.

"I think I'll finish tonight."

"Will your next book be a little bit more, how to say, intellectual?"

"Jeon Woonwoo, stop making fun of my book," you laughed and hit his arm repeatedly, though you doubted he felt anything.

"Not my fault my childhood was based on Wattpad, you dumbass." He laughed and shook his head in a playful manner.

"Sorry not everyone can be as smart as you, Mr. I-know-it-all. " you huffed, putting your bookmark at the coffee table. Not saying anything more, he simply put his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side.

Moments like these made you feel so safe and loved. Wonwoo may not be the most outspoken person when it comes to his emotions, but he never made you doubt yourself in any way.

Everywhere you went, you knew you could always count on him, he was there to keep you safe, protected and happy. The simple touches and small acts of service was all you needed.

So, as you both sit in the living room, each of you in a different fictional world, keeping each other warm, you knew that this was how you'd like to spend the rest of your life.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

A work of art

Part 1 (Disgraced apple pie)

TW: torture, blood, mention of mind control

“It's a form of art, you know,” Supervillain says, kneeling in front of the beaten and bloodied Sidekick. “Knowing where to cut, where to punch, to get just the right reaction.” Villain can feel their stomach turn to the point they can practically taste the half digested apple pie.

“It seems unnecessary," Villain tries to say in their standard, ice cold tone but somehow that has become difficult. “To an ordinary human it might look unnecessary, but to us villains…” Supervillain says, looking at the poor sidekick as it was a painting in a museum. “Wouldn't you agree?”

Anyone else would believe that the Supervillain is asking for their opinion. Villain knew better, though. They knew that tone and knew what would happen if they didn't agree. They're not in the mood for that. “I agree.” is all they said.

Supervillain let out a satisfied hum and focused on the Sidekick. “Anything else you would like to say?” The sugar sweet tone made Villain sick again. “Please…please, no…” Sidekick's broken sobs fill the room. “You're gonna have to give me a little more information than that, honey,” Supervillain said with a sweet smile on their face. Bullshit. Supervillain isn't stopping until they're bored. “Please, no…i can't…”

Villain stared at the wall and felt a familiar sensation fall over them. Their mind began to wander to a carefully constructed mind palace. They imagine sitting in a cabin in the middle of the woods. The fireplace softly lighting the room. They're reading a good book while their cat is napping in their lap. Some nice, calm music playing in the background. No pain, no yelling, no begging, no fighting…

“Don't let your mind wander like that, Villain.” Supervillain's voice brings them back to the cold, dark room in the basement of Supervillain's lair. Supervillain stands up and approaches Villain. They put both of their bloody hands on Villain’s cheeks. “I need you here, you know that. Don't go there.” Villain notices the possessive hint in Supervillain's voice. They never want Supervillain to take control over their mind again. Not like last time.

“I know. I'm sorry,” Villain says, barely above a whisper. “It's okay. But I give you freedom and you can't abuse it like that,” Supervillain says, still holding Villains face. “I'm sorry.” Villain answers, still not daring to speak louder than a whisper. “It's okay, just focus now. Yeah?” Supervillain lets go and turns around to face the Sidekick again. “Mind getting the last bit of information for me, my dear Villain?” Supervillain asks with a smile plastered on their face.

Villain's not proud of what they do next. Their powers control shadows. Their own but also the ones around them. Basically, anything light doesn't touch, so the shadow of the chair in the corner, their own shadow, the shadow inside someone's lungs.

It's a basic trick for them and one of Supervillains' favorites. They take control of the person's lung's shadow and expand it. Not much so they don't actually burst, but enough to give the sensation of bursting. Immediately the poor sidekick begins to scream and immediately the Villain wants to stop. The figure standing behind them stops them from doing so, though. That last bit of information, all the codes to the Agency's entrances, came quickly.

They're going to need an extra slice of pie after this.

~

Hero is still sitting at the same booth that they shared with Villain. They couldn't bring themselves to go home. It's so empty as the Agency doesn't allow any personal decorating and certainly not a pet. They shove the last crumbs of the pies in their mouth and start looking for their coat to put on.

“Are you seriously still here ?”

a familiar voice says behind them. As they turn around they can see Villain standing there. Still surrounded with their cold and distant aura, but Hero could sense a hint of… defeat. What happened in those 3 hours for them to look so empty?

“You here again?” the Hero asks with a smile. “Still hungry,” Villain says with a cold tone and sits down in front of Hero. “Well, you came at the right time. I just saw the girl behind the counter restock the pies,” Hero says cheerfully. They're not sure what caused the empty look in Villain’s eyes, but they feel like Villain could use something to cheer them up right now.

“Good thing I came then.”

Next part

Hi! Well...that turned dark fast. Hope you enjoyed this part as much as the first one. (Wich has like 95 notes, which is crazy, so thank you so much for that!)

[carmensbrain]

You asked and I am here. Cole Cassidy x Reader pretty please? 🙏

No specific criteria - write whatever you feel like :))

Ugh this man has infected my brain😵‍💫

Thank you humble anon for this blessing🎀

Contains- Cole Cassidy x Reader RAHHHHH

Rating- E for every brain!!

Warnings- mentions of mcree (i wanted to incorporate the name change I hate the real guy!)

Authors note- this is mostly self indulgent but I just got my phone back, cut me some slack✋🤚

Fic starts below cut!!

You had met Cole back in his deadlock days while working at your family’s diner, the Panorama. He was still a scruffy teen, toothpick between his lips as he entered the warm building. A girl your age followed in behind him, her long pale hair scruffed and messy.

“Damn you mcree!” She huffed, pushing him roughly before fixing her hair. You knew you’d seen him before, something about his face and the way he carried himself that seemed familiar, he and the girl were plastered all over wanted posters in the area with hefty prices attached.

You decided to give them the benefit of the doubt and let them take a seat at the bar as you took their order. The girl, who you would come to know as Ashe, ordered a grilled cheese and the boy ordered a burger while his gaze drifted to the apple pie in the case across the bar.

“And would either of you want some pie with that?” You ask, seeing the look on the girls face as she quietly reminds the boy of their financial situation.

“Oh no not tonight” the boy says setting his hat onto the bar, scruffy hair falling over his forehead messily.

“On the house, Mcree” you hum, placing a slice of pie in front of the two. The girl looks at you with a cocked eyebrow and stops the boy from eating or even touching the dish.

“It was gonna get thrown out anyway” you clarify with a warm smile and the girl seems to relax as the boy houses the food. They eat silently as you clean glasses and tune into whatever music was playing on the radio, feeling the boys gaze on you as you worked. As they pay their bill and the boy hands it to you he speaks up.

“The names Cole by the way, Cole Cassidy” His voice has a smooth southern tone to it, his cheeks having a noticeable dusting of pink as he speaks.

“Oh sorry… I’m f/n l/n”

Cole and Ashe leave for the night and as the weeks pass you start to notice the lootings and fights drift farther from the diner, bringing in more business during the day. Cole visits regularly “just for pie”, complementing you far too much for something he’s had so many times before but you didn’t mind, not in the slightest.

He treats you like an angel, ensuring that no one speaks to you even slightly rudely as he chats with you. The cooks quickly took notice and began teasing you for ‘straightening him out’, which you laugh at while denying it. Every once in a while he’d bring in flowers for the vase next to the register, hands clammy as he hands the flowers to you.

For about a year and half that’s how it was, until overwatch caught wind of deadlock. Rumors where all you had to piece together where he went, apparently being forced into overwatch in order to avoid arrest. You couldn’t help but miss him, watching as the rain withered the final wanted posters tacked up on the telephone poles. Inevitably you had to grow up, to take full control of the diner as the years pass and locals move in and out.

When overwatch disbanded you were coming up on your late thirties and you couldn’t defend your diner as well as you used to, criminals getting bold again with flashy weapons and body modifications. That’s when rumors of a certain cowboy rolling into town again began circulating through hushed whispers. A red beat up motor cycle came to a halt in front of the entrance of the diner,a cloud of dust pillowing beneath it as the bell above the door rings.

It was a slow morning so the only sounds were the sinks, grills, and the man’s boots and spurs hitting the tile floor. His gaze rose to you as he took his hat from his head and held it to his chest with a gentle smile.

“Ya miss me?”

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Bonfire~

hello everyone! okay this had to be split because i wanted to finish it fully but i wasn’t able to finish it in time! so expect part 2 tomorrow!!! if we are lucky!!

Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04

@adamsappleweek

The flames flickered in hues of pink, blue, and violet, casting a magical glow over the night. Wisps of steam floated lazily through the air like ethereal clouds, swirling and twisting around the open garden. Adam stood at a distance, leaning against the apple tree, his shoulder pressed firmly against the rough bark. His stormy eyes, half-closed, smoldered with restrained intensity as he watched the bonfire burn, crackling and snapping in the night. Around the flames, people danced wildly, their bodies moving like primal creatures, swaying and twirling in erratic motions. Heads tossed, hair whipped, and the rhythm of the music surged louder with every passing second, filling the air with a seductive, pulsing beat.

Adam bit down hard on his bottom lip, the sharp sting keeping him anchored, preventing him from being swept away by the hypnotic allure of the dance. He wouldn’t let himself fall under its spell, wouldn’t surrender his will to whatever strange power stirred here tonight. Damn the gods. Damn the old stories and superstitions the elders clung to like lifelines.

Adam was not part of this. He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the floral crown perched atop his head, its heavy fragrance almost mocking him. He wanted to tear it off, but he knew it would only lead to more trouble. Better not to argue with Old Betty about tradition or propriety. So, he pressed harder against the tree, the bark digging painfully into his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He refused to dance for the gods. He refused to give up his soul.

“Hiya, Addie~” a voice chimed, its tone sugary sweet and unbearably bright.

The sound grated against Adam’s nerves, making his muscles tense. As always, the voice felt too cute, too artificial, like a melody meant to charm, but to him, it only set his teeth on edge.

"Piss off, Morningstar," Adam muttered, his gaze fixed firmly on the bonfire, refusing to acknowledge the shorter man beside him.

Lucifer’s grin sharpened like the edge of a blade. "Aww, it almost sounds like you’re not happy to see me, Addie."

"Oh? What gave you that impression?" Adam sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep his composure.

"Well, for one, you’re not smiling at me—and you have such a pretty smile," Lucifer teased, his tone playful but laced with something darker.

Adam could feel the air between them shift as Lucifer stepped closer, but he refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction. His lips stayed sealed, his nostrils flaring as he kept his focus anywhere but on the devil himself.

Lucifer’s pout deepened, but he leaned in anyway, letting his scent coil lazily into the air. He flashed a flirtatious smile at an Omega nearby, who had been shyly watching Adam with wide, admiring eyes. The Omega blushed furiously, looking away as if burned by Lucifer’s attention.

"Addie~" Lucifer purred, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper as he leaned up on tiptoe, his breath warm against Adam’s cheek. "Isn’t there anyone here you’d like to tie yourself to? To surrender your soul to?"

Adam’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching so tightly it ached. Rage flared hot in his chest, and it took every ounce of restraint not to shove Lucifer away as he edged even closer.

"Nope," Adam spat through gritted teeth, the word filled with venom.

Lucifer cooed softly, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Oh, really? That’s a shame, Addie. I thought for sure you had your eye on some strapping Alpha... or maybe a sweet Beta~"

Adam’s eyes narrowed, a vile bitterness twisting deep inside him at the words. He could feel himself losing control, knowing Lucifer was baiting him, but it didn’t matter anymore. He’d regret it later, but right now, he wanted to make Lucifer regret it too.

"Tell me, Morningstar," Adam growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble, "Why the hell would I ever tell you if I were considering someone?"

Finally, he turned, his glare as sharp as a blade, locking onto Lucifer with a look so fierce that it startled the devil, who stiffened in response, his bright blue eyes widening in surprise.

"Come now, Adam," Lucifer stammered, his confidence faltering for just a moment. "It was so long ago... you should be over it by now—"

His words tumbled out in a rush, tripping over themselves as he scrambled to recover.

Adam let out a deep, guttural growl, baring his teeth before snapping them at Lucifer, a primal warning that made the blonde stumble back in shock. The sudden display of aggression sent a shiver down Lucifer’s spine, his body reacting instinctively as Adam’s pheromones flooded the air—thick and threatening, a clear message: I’m furious, and if you come any closer, I’ll tear you apart.

It was a scent Lucifer had never encountered from Adam before, raw and laced with the danger of an Omega pushed too far.

"Be over it by now?" Adam's voice trembled with barely contained rage, each word a dagger. "Are you serious? Are you fucking serious? After everything you’ve done to me?"

Lucifer faltered, the confidence he usually wore like armor cracking under the weight of Adam’s anger.

"I—" he stammered, caught off guard, "Adam, how many times do I have to apologize? How many times do I have to—"

"Shut up!" Adam barked, pushing himself off the tree with a force that made the ground beneath him seem to shake. "Shut up! Shut up! We’re not friends, we’re not anything anymore. Do me a favor and fuck off—don’t ever talk to me again!"

With that, Adam turned and stormed off, his footsteps heavy with finality. He didn’t look back, not once, leaving behind only the smoldering remnants of their past, the bonfire crackling in the distance like a cruel reminder of what could never be rekindled.

Lucifer stood frozen, his wide blue eyes following Adam’s retreating form. Slowly, his shoulders slumped, the fire in his expression dimming to a dull sadness. He let out a soft, broken sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to ease a pain that ran far deeper than physical discomfort. His gaze shifted, avoiding the space where Adam had been, as if looking there might hurt too much.

Part of him ached to run after Adam, to drop to his knees and plead for forgiveness, to make him understand, somehow. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not after seeing that fury in Adam’s eyes, a side of him Lucifer had never seen before. It had been years, and yet... the wounds were still so raw. The regret was suffocating, but he didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know if he ever could.

Adam wandered through the open field, his steps heavy with unspoken frustration. His eyes narrowed as they swept over the decorations that lined the edges of the space—vibrant blossoms of every hue intertwined with ripe fruits, their colors meant to symbolize the unity of life, growth, and the seasons.

Each bloom and fruit held a sacred meaning, woven carefully into the fabric of tradition. His own flower crown sat heavy on his head, a mix of blue and red petals, dotted with tiny red apples, a symbol once rich with promise, now a hollow reminder of the past.

There had been a time when Adam had believed in the ritual with his whole heart. The bonfire celebration had once been the highlight of his year. As a child, he had dreamed of the day he would join in fully, his heart open to the ancient magic, the songs, and the stories that surrounded the flames. Back then, the tradition had felt pure, sacred—a bridge between mortals and gods.

But that was before. Before his world had crumbled around him. His best friend, the one he had trusted above all others, had betrayed him in a way so profound, so soul-shattering, that it had left him forever changed. The ritual he once loved now felt like a bitter joke, the flowers and fire only mocking the ashes of his broken past.

Everything had fallen apart, and no amount of tradition or reverence could ever rebuild the innocence he had lost. Now, as he walked through the field, the beauty of the blossoms felt like a distant dream—something for others, not for him.

Alphas, Betas, and Omegas swirled in wild, graceful rhythms around the bonfire, their laughter and joy echoing through the night. Adam knew the mating ritual would follow soon, the evening stretching into an endless night of longing, promises, and bonds formed beneath the watchful eyes of tradition. He sighed, a familiar weight settling in his chest. For the fifth year in a row, he’d leave with nothing but the hollow claim of, I tried, echoing in his mind.

"Stupid Lucifer fucking Morningstar," Adam spat under his breath, stomping aimlessly across the field.

His anger churned like a storm inside him, until finally, he dropped onto a stack of golden hay, his body collapsing under the pressure of it all. His fingers dug into the straw, the sharp edges biting into his skin, but he barely noticed. His eyes burned, hot and stinging, and before he could stop it, tears threatened to spill. He didn’t want to cry. Not again, he told himself. He’d cried enough over that Omega. He didn’t want to waste another tear.

"Thinking he could just waltz in like that and be all buddy-buddy. Asshole," he muttered bitterly, swiping angrily at his eyes.

The memory of Lucifer’s smug grin, the false sweetness in his voice, made Adam’s stomach turn. "I should have never fucking trusted him. I wish I'd picked a different kid to sit with in kindergarten back then."

His vision blurred as his emotions swelled, the painful memories resurfacing despite his efforts to push them down. He thought Lucifer had been his friend. For so long, he had believed it. But he’d been wrong—so horribly, painfully wrong.

Adam had opened his heart, trusted Lucifer with pieces of himself he couldn’t get back, and Lucifer had shattered that trust without a second thought. Now, years later, the betrayal still cut just as deep, and no amount of time seemed to dull the pain. His fingers clenched the hay tighter, as if gripping it hard enough might keep him grounded, might stop the waves of hurt crashing over him. But all he felt was the ache, the hollow emptiness where their friendship used to be.

Adam sat slumped on the stack of golden hay, the sting of tears threatening to spill over. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by old wounds and bitter memories. As he wiped at his eyes, a soft, unfamiliar voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.

"Mind if I sit here?" the voice asked gently, warm and considerate.

Adam blinked up, surprised to see a tall, handsome Alpha standing nearby, his expression open and kind. The Alpha's eyes were a soft amber, warm like the embers of a dying fire, and his face was speckled with freckles, giving him an easy, approachable charm. His red hair caught the light from the bonfire, and there was something soothing about his presence.

Adam hesitated but nodded, and the Alpha smiled, a quiet, comforting smile, before lowering himself down beside him. As he settled, his elbow brushed lightly against Adam’s, a gentle, reassuring touch that made Adam’s heart skip a beat. The gesture was so tender, so... careful, and Adam wasn’t used to that.

After a moment, the Alpha leaned in just a little, his voice laced with humor as he said, "So, what did the flower say after a long day in the sun?"

Adam blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

The Alpha grinned, his eyes twinkling. "I’m planted, I’m not going anywhere."

A small, unexpected chuckle slipped from Adam’s lips, and before he could stop himself, he was wiping his eyes again—this time, not just from sadness, but from the lightness that came with the joke. The Alpha’s easy laughter was contagious, and for the first time that night, Adam felt the tension ease slightly.

"It’s nothing," Adam murmured after a beat, trying to brush off the weight of his emotions. "Just... an old friend."

The Alpha nodded thoughtfully, his gaze soft.

"For what it’s worth," he said in a low, comforting tone, "that friend doesn’t know what he’s missing."

Adam gave a weak smile, feeling a flicker of warmth bloom in his chest. "It’s more like... the friend didn’t care what he had to offer to begin with."

The Alpha’s brow furrowed slightly, and he shook his head with quiet certainty. "Then he’s not worth crying over."

That simple statement, so sincere and gentle, settled over Adam like a balm. He finally lifted his gaze to really look at the Alpha, and his breath caught in his throat. He was striking, with a strong, lean build, his freckles scattered like stars across his skin, and those amber eyes—so full of understanding. His smile was wide and genuine, and something about it made Adam’s heart flutter.

Adam swallowed, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. "I... I’m Adam," he said, his voice soft but steady.

The Alpha’s face lit up, his smile growing even brighter. "Nice to meet you, Adam. I’m Steve. Though, I’ve got to wonder... why is a beautiful Omega like yourself sitting here all alone?"

Adam’s blush deepened, and he looked away, suddenly shy.

“No luck with partners," he admitted quietly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his flower crown.

Steve’s eyes softened even more, and he leaned in just a touch closer, his voice low and full of warmth.

"Their loss," he murmured. "I’d say you’re one of a kind."

Adam’s heart skipped again, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something other than heartache—he felt seen, and for now, that was enough.

With a playful smile, Steve leaped off the stack of golden hay, turning gracefully toward Adam. He extended his hand, his amber eyes gleaming with warmth. “Would you be kind enough to accompany me to the bonfire ring?”

Adam felt heat rise to his cheeks, the blush deepening as a wave of shyness washed over him. His heart pounded with anxious anticipation, each beat echoing the uncertainty that had long taken root inside him. No one had ever invited him to the ring before—not since that awful night so long ago. The memory hung heavy in the back of his mind, but Steve’s presence somehow eased the tension.

"I’d be glad to," Adam whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

He reached out and took Steve’s hand, feeling the solid warmth of the Alpha’s grip. As Steve pulled him to his feet, Adam’s foot slipped slightly, his balance faltering—but before he could stumble, Steve’s strong arms caught him effortlessly.

Adam looked up, his heart fluttering as he met Steve’s gaze. A soft, bashful smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you."

Steve’s voice was gentle, almost a whisper. "I’ll always catch you if you happen to fall."

Adam’s breath hitched. Was he flirting? The softness in Steve’s voice, the tender look in his eyes—Adam couldn’t tell for sure. But the hope stirred within him, fragile and new. It would be the first time someone had shown interest in him, the first time anyone had made him feel like he mattered in a way he hadn’t felt before.

As Adam and Steve neared the bonfire ring, Adam fully expected Steve to release his hand. But the Alpha didn’t let go. Instead, Steve casually began to swing their hands back and forth, threading their fingers together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Adam’s breath caught in his throat, and he glanced shyly at Steve, his face growing warmer by the second as his heart raced in his chest.

Was this it? he wondered. Had he finally found his partner, after all this time?

Steve shot him another dazzling smile, his amber eyes sparkling beneath the flickering light of the pink and purple flames. He even batted his eyelashes playfully at Adam, which sent a fresh wave of heat surging through Adam’s body, making him smile despite himself.

As they approached the ring, the bonfire crackled and shimmered, its mystical flames casting a warm glow across the high benches. Pairs of Alphas and Omegas were already gathered there, some sitting close, their heads leaning together in quiet conversation. Adam’s heart sank slightly when his gaze inadvertently fell on one pair in particular—him. Even though he refused to look directly, he could feel Lucifer’s sharp blue eyes fixed on him, an intense stare that seemed to burn into him as Steve gently led him to a seat.

"Let me get you a drink," Steve offered, his tone friendly and kind.

Adam nodded, trying to shake off the sudden wave of nerves. "Um, I’d be happy with anything."

"Noted," Steve replied with a wink, before slipping away toward the drinks table.

Left alone, Adam rubbed his thighs anxiously, his skin prickling with unease. His mind raced, his stomach churning with an unsettling mix of excitement and dread. He knew why he was fidgeting—it was the unspoken weight of the night. The possibility of waking up in the morning mated, the thought that everything could change after tonight. The ritual had a way of making those connections happen, and the idea left him jittery.

Across from him, Lucifer sat, his sharp blue gaze locked onto Adam like a predator watching prey. His eyes didn’t waver, and Adam could feel the tension between them crackling like the flames in the bonfire. Lucifer’s eyebrows furrowed as Steve returned, holding two bottles, oblivious to the weight in the air.

"Here you go," Steve said, handing one of the bottles to Adam with a warm smile.

Adam accepted it with a soft, "Thank you."

He lifted the bottle to his lips, feeling a tremble in his hands, and took a tentative sip. The tartness hit his tongue, and he made a face without meaning to. Across the way, Lucifer raised his own drink, clearly watching every move Adam made.

"Is apple cider still your favorite?" Lucifer asked loudly, his voice cutting through the evening like a blade.

Steve blinked, his amber eyes shifting from Lucifer to Adam with a curious tilt of his head.

"Oh? Do you not like the orange cider?" he asked, his tone soft, trying to gauge Adam’s reaction.

"N-no, it’s fine," Adam stammered, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced at Lucifer, his irritation barely concealed. "It’s fine, really."

Steve slowly nodded, though a faint frown of confusion appeared as he looked between the two of them.

Lucifer, however, wasn’t finished.

"Orange cider?" he said with a frown, his voice sharp. "But you hate the stuff. You can’t stand the taste, remember?"

Adam's jaw tightened, and he snapped before he could stop himself, "Things change."

Lucifer’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening as he leaned forward.

“Doesn't look like it to me," he shot back, his voice stern, clearly challenging Adam.

The tension thickened, and Steve’s gaze flickered between them, sensing the history in the air. But instead of letting the moment escalate, Steve leaned a little closer to Adam, brushing his elbow gently against his.

"Don’t worry about it," he said softly, his voice calming, as if trying to pull Adam back from the edge. "I can go get a different drink if you’d prefer something else."

Adam glanced at Steve, feeling his warmth and steady presence beside him. It helped calm the storm brewing inside, and he offered a small, grateful smile. Lucifer’s words still stung, but for the first time, Adam realized he didn’t have to let them control him. Steve’s kindness was enough to remind him that maybe, just maybe, he deserved something better.

"N-No, it’s fine—" Adam tried to protest, but Steve was already rising to his feet, flashing him that easy grin.

"Don’t worry about it," Steve said, his tone light and reassuring. "I’ll grab you an apple cider. Be right back."

Flushing, Adam nodded timidly, his words faltering as Steve strode away toward the drink table. As soon as Steve was out of sight, though, Adam’s expression shifted, his gaze hardening as he shot a glare at Lucifer.

The Omega was still sitting across from him, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, watching Adam with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

Lucifer's stare felt too heavy, too dark, as though he was trying to penetrate the very thoughts running through Adam’s mind. There was something unsettling about the way his eyes hooded, lingering on him like he had some claim over Adam that refused to be relinquished.

Adam’s fingers curled into fists in his lap. He refused to let Lucifer’s presence ruin the moment—ruin what could be a fresh start with someone who might actually care. For the first time in a long time, Adam felt a spark of hope, and he wasn’t going to let Lucifer extinguish it with his lingering, possessive gaze.

The heat of the bonfire shimmered in the air, but Adam’s thoughts were a storm, swirling between past pain and the possibility of something new. He just had to hold on until Steve returned.

“Who is he?” Lucifer asked sharply.

Adam blinked at him. “Er, his name is Steve.”

“He’s an alpha.” The blonde omega sternly said.

“He is.”

Before Adam could say more, Lucifer’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“Steve, huh?” His words dripped with suspicion, and Adam could feel the cold weight of Lucifer’s gaze bearing down on them both. “And who does Steve belong to? Josh’s pack?”

Adam’s face heated with awkwardness. He glanced at Steve, who raised an eyebrow but remained quiet, waiting for Adam’s response.

“I... um, yes. He’s from Josh’s pack." The words came out more hesitant than Adam had meant.

Lucifer’s blue eyes narrowed, his tone cold and sharp. “How long have you known him? Do you even know anything about him? What’s his rank? Does he have a reputation for running through Omegas?”

Each question came like a dart aimed at Adam’s nerves. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling his irritation rise with every sharp word.

“We... we’ve just met,” he answered, his voice tightening. “But he seems... nice.”

Lucifer pressed further, his eyes burning with a familiar intensity. “Seems nice? Is that all it takes now, Adam? Have you even thought this through? You don’t know the first thing about him.”

Adam’s patience wore thin, his irritation flaring into anger. He shot a glare at Lucifer, his fingers gripping the bottle tightly.

“Why do you care, Lucifer?” he snapped, his voice rising. “Why is any of this your business?”

For a moment, Lucifer was silent, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered with something close to regret.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Adam," he said, his voice softer, but the weight of his words still pressed down hard.

Adam scoffed, his anger spilling over. "Oh, like you did last time? Or the time before that? Or how about the time before that?"

Each word came out like venom, and Lucifer visibly flinched at the accusation, his frown deepening.

"Adam..." Lucifer started, but Adam didn’t let him finish.

"No," Adam bit out, standing his ground, his gaze sharp with years of pent-up frustration. "You need to butt out, Lucifer. Stop trying to interfere, because I don’t need your help, and I sure as hell don’t want it."

Lucifer’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening, but he remained silent, his usual snark and quick retorts gone.

"I can’t wait to mate an Alpha," Adam continued, his voice low and bitter. "So I can finally leave this place and never have to see your face again."

For a split second, something flickered in Lucifer’s eyes—hurt, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a cold, distant glare. He didn’t say anything, just stared back at Adam, his silence louder than words.

Adam felt the tension settle heavily between them, but he refused to back down. Lucifer had meddled too many times before, and this was where it ended.

“Is something wrong?” Steve asked, his voice gentle as he noticed Adam rising from his seat. The alpha glanced around, holding the new bottle of apple cider, his expression filled with concern.

Adam shook his head and took the bottle from Steve, grateful for the distraction.

“Nothing’s wrong. Let’s go somewhere else,” he said, his voice steady but laced with frustration that lingered from his confrontation with Lucifer.

Steve didn’t question him further, his easygoing nature kicking in.

“Ah, okay, I’m good with that,” he replied, taking a hearty swig of his own drink before standing to follow Adam. But as they started to walk away, Steve glanced back, meeting Lucifer’s gaze.

Lucifer’s face darkened for a moment, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. The Omega’s sharp eyes flickered with something almost predatory. But when he saw Steve looking at him, Lucifer’s expression shifted in an instant. A suggestive smirk curled across his lips, and his bright blue eyes gleamed as he batted his lashes in mock flirtation.

Steve’s face flushed a deep red, but instead of being thrown off, he returned the smirk, his own expression mischievous. Adam didn’t catch the silent exchange, too wrapped up in his own thoughts, but Lucifer did—and the twisted satisfaction that bloomed within him was undeniable.

This might be easier than I expected, Lucifer thought, his smirk growing as he watched Steve’s reaction. A dangerous game was unfolding, and Lucifer was more than ready to play it.

~#~

The endless blue and yellow hues of the moon hung like a melancholy painting in the starry sky, rising higher as the bonfire ritual of mating reached its midpoint. Its pale glow illuminated the sea of intertwined couples, their laughter and whispers echoing in the air, but Adam drifted aimlessly among them, feeling more isolated with every step. His eyes, glassy with unshed tears and anger, scanned the alphas, betas, and omegas, all lost in one another’s embrace. He had left Steve for only a moment, needing to relight his spirits. Steve had promised he’d wait.

But when Adam returned, his heart sank. Steve was gone.

Surely the alpha wouldn’t have gone too far? Adam told himself, his breath catching in his throat. He clutched at the coat still draped over his shoulders, hoping it meant Steve would come back. But deep down, a familiar dread gnawed at him, that sinking feeling that always crept in when hope seemed too close to grasp.

Biting down on his trembling bottom lip, Adam wandered through the trees, his heart pounding louder with every step. The crackling pink and purple flames of the bonfire flickered in the distance, casting an ethereal light as blue steam danced upward, swirling through the night. For a brief moment, he let himself be hypnotized by the sight, following the puffy clouds of smoke until he saw a couple ahead, walking hand-in-hand, their eyes soft and full of love.

And then, Adam’s world shattered.

There, not far away, stood Steve—his Steve—arms wrapped around another Omega. Adam froze, his breath catching in his throat as disbelief and heartbreak washed over him like a tidal wave. His green eyes widened, his chest tightened, and pain surged through him so fiercely he felt as though his heart was being ripped apart.

It… it wasn’t far, he thought in numb shock. Steve was right there, lips pressed against someone else’s, his promises forgotten as if Adam had never mattered.

Not just any omega but…

Adam blinked hard, his vision blurring as tears welled up, hot and stinging. He wiped at his eyes anxiously, but the hurt was too much, too raw. He turned away from the scene, a sob threatening to escape as he ripped the flower and apple crown from his head. It felt meaningless now, the bright petals and ripe apples mocking him. He let it fall to the ground, stepping over it without a second glance.

It just wasn’t meant to be… it never was.

His hand clenched into a fist as he fought to swallow the lump in his throat. The townsfolk could judge him later. He didn’t care about their disapproval, their whispers about tradition and the “right” way of doing things. They could suck it. Right now, all Adam wanted was to escape, to disappear from this cruel ritual that had once filled him with such hope.

As Adam walked away, his heart in pieces, sharp blue eyes watched him from a distance. Lucifer barely paid attention to Steve, who was fumbling awkwardly through a kiss that lacked any real emotion. Lucifer wasn’t interested in Steve at all—his gaze was fixed solely on Adam, ensuring that Adam saw them together, ensuring that his plan worked.

When he finally pulled away, Lucifer pushed a hand against Steve’s chest, his eyes still on Adam’s retreating figure.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered hastily, his voice void of any real gratitude.

He didn’t even bother to look at Steve as he stepped past him, brushing him aside like he was nothing.

Steve tried to say something—confusion flickered in his amber eyes—but Lucifer didn’t listen. He didn’t care. He had done what he needed to do. He had won, just like he always did.

Lucifer’s steps slowed as he reached the spot where Adam had discarded his crown. Crouching down, he picked it up gently, his fingers tracing the soft petals and the vibrant apples still clinging to it. The apples glowed under the moonlight, a deep, ruby red—just like the apples Lucifer had once grown in his own garden, for someone he thought he’d never lose.

A strange heaviness settled in Lucifer’s chest as he held the crown, his fingers caressing its edges as if it were something fragile, something precious. Adam had never let it go before. Not until tonight. Lucifer frowned deeply, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—tugging at his heart.

But he pushed it aside. It didn’t matter. He had made sure Adam saw what he wanted him to see, made sure Adam understood that no one would ever be truly loyal to him. That no one would ever care the way Lucifer does.

“Ah, wait,” Steve called after him, his voice laced with confusion as he reached out, his fingertips brushing the air just short of Lucifer’s arm. His eyes were glazed over, his face still flushed from the heat of the moment. “I don’t even know your name?”

Lucifer didn’t bother to turn around. He sidestepped Steve’s outstretched hand with the grace of someone used to slipping away unnoticed, his fingers tightening around the flower and apple crown. The petals felt delicate against his skin, but the weight of it pressed heavily into his chest, like a painful reminder of something he’d never admit.

"Don’t worry about it," Lucifer murmured over his shoulder, his voice distant, almost hollow. "This probably won’t happen again."

The words sounded final, as though they carried more than just the end of a fleeting encounter—they carried the weight of years, of something Lucifer had hoped to bury deep but couldn’t quite forget.

Steve stood there, helpless, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had just happened. He opened his mouth to call out again, but Lucifer was already slipping away, his pace quickening, leaving the confused alpha behind without so much as a second glance.

At first, Lucifer walked with an air of calm, his steps measured and slow. But as the scent of Adam grew stronger, the crisp notes of cedar and crushed flowers cutting through the cool night air, something shifted inside him. His heart thudded unevenly in his chest, and before he realized it, he was sprinting, the night rushing past him as he followed the familiar scent.

~#~

Lucifer had always been a strange, delicate boy. Small, fragile, with golden hair like spun silk, wide blue eyes that seemed far too large for his face, and cheeks that flushed an embarrassed pink at the slightest provocation. He was mousey, almost ghostly pale, with limbs that seemed too slender to carry him through the world. His oversized clothes hung loosely from his bony shoulders, as if he’d borrowed them from a brother who didn’t exist.

He didn’t belong.

His first week in kindergarten had been a disaster. The bigger kids, the ones who already had sturdy frames and confidence in their strides, had taken to pushing him around. They’d laugh at how doll-like he looked, shoving him to the ground, calling him names that made his heart shrivel. His mama called him an eyesore; his papa, a disappointment.

"You better not present as an Omega," his father had warned darkly. “We need an Alpha heir."

But Lucifer had always been different, always too delicate, too quiet, and far too lonely.

On the worst of those days, he hid. He tucked himself away in a corner of the room, hunched over one of the tiny desks, his head bowed so low his chin nearly touched his chest. His small hands fidgeted in his lap, tracing the frayed edges of his sleeve. He wished he could disappear.

And then, a voice.

"Hello! Heeellloooo?"

Lucifer blinked, startled out of his thoughts. A pudgy hand waved in front of his face, and slowly, he raised his head. His wide blue eyes met the sight of a boy standing before him, the most radiant boy he had ever seen. The boy had messy brown and red hair, his cheeks round and rosy, and when he smiled, it was gap-toothed and earnest.

"Hi!" The boy grinned, eyes twinkling with joy, as if the world had nothing but sunshine to offer. "Can I sit here?"

Lucifer was stunned, frozen by the simplicity of the question. No one had asked to sit with him before. He glanced at the empty stool beside him, his heart pounding wildly in his tiny chest. Was this boy really talking to him? The air seemed thick, heavy, and yet all he could do was nod, wide-eyed, in awe.

The boy beamed even brighter, plopping down onto the stool as if he had known Lucifer all his life. Almost instantly, he began unloading crayons onto the table, scattering them like a rainbow.

"Wanna draw with me? I love to draw! What do you like to draw?"

Lucifer just stared, his throat tight and his heart thudding. Did he… really want to draw with him? No one had ever asked him such a simple thing before. He watched as the boy reached for two crayons—yellow and orange—and slid them toward him.

"Here!" The boy chirped, his enthusiasm uncontainable. "I'll show ya how to draw a ducky! They’re the most funnest thing to draw!"

Lucifer’s blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the kindness, the excitement. His hands trembled as he reached out, hesitating before finally curling his small fingers around the crayons. The warmth of the gesture seeped into him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt something inside him loosen.

"My name’s Adam!" The boy declared proudly, his smile wide and confident. "But my Mama and Papa call me Addie!"

He giggled, swinging his legs beneath the stool, eyes never leaving Lucifer’s face. "What’s your name?"

Lucifer’s breath hitched. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His name. Everyone hated his name. It was the reason they teased him, the reason they thought he was strange. His own father had cursed him with it—Lucifer. Named after the devil himself, a name meant to force strength upon him, to twist him into an Alpha that his parents could be proud of. But that wasn’t him.

What if Adam hated it too?

His lips trembled, and his tongue felt far too big for his mouth as he tried to speak. He could feel the anxiousness crawling up his spine, tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to lose the only friend he might ever have.

"I-I’m L-Lucifer…" he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if saying it too loudly would break the fragile moment.

Adam blinked at him, then grinned even wider, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Lucifer?" he repeated, as though tasting the name, rolling it around his mouth like candy. "Cool name! You’re like the angel who fell from heaven, huh?"

Lucifer’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t expected that. No one had ever said anything like that before. They always called him the devil, the bad one, the one who wasn’t good enough. But Adam… Adam said it like it was something beautiful.

"Y-Yeah," Lucifer whispered, his heart swelling in his chest.

Adam leaned closer, nudging his shoulder against Lucifer’s, his face glowing with enthusiasm.

“Well, Luci," he said, his voice bubbling with laughter, "let’s make the best ducky ever!"

And for the first time, Lucifer smiled—a real, soft smile that lit up his face, and together, they began to draw.

From that moment on, the two of them became inseparable. Adam and Lucifer went through middle school and high school side by side, their bond a quiet but steady comfort against the chaos of the world around them.

One afternoon after school, Adam noticed something off in Lucifer’s usual bright demeanor. His green eyes flickered with concern as they walked home together, their hands brushing occasionally—a casual closeness that had grown natural over the years.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, his brow furrowing as he glanced at Lucifer. His lips twisted into a crooked smile, trying to coax something out of his friend. “You’ve been off all day. Sad, even.”

Lucifer sighed, his eyes darting away to avoid Adam’s gaze. He scratched at his cheek, the familiar nervous gesture betraying his unease.

“Adam, what do you think you’ll present as?” he murmured quietly.

Adam’s face softened in thought as he rubbed his chin. “Present as? Hmm, I haven’t really thought about it much.”

Lucifer’s heart raced. His fingers twitched nervously by his side as he waited for Adam’s answer. Their connection had grown so deep, they held hands often, and Lucifer had grown to rely on Adam in ways he could never admit out loud.

Home was a place of constant turmoil for Lucifer—a cold, bare room where his parents’ shouting filled the air like a storm that never ended. It was at Adam’s house where he felt safe, where the warmth he craved seemed to surround him.

Lucifer’s voice dropped to a soft, almost broken whisper. “What would you do if you presented as an Omega?”

Adam blinked, then without hesitation, he reached out and took Lucifer’s trembling hand in his own, his touch warm and grounding. Lucifer couldn’t help but look up at him, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I don’t think I’d care,” Adam said with a grin. “Omegas get pampered, don’t they? Think of all the ice cream and chocolate! And the gifts from everyone! It sounds like a pretty sweet deal.”

A small, sheepish laugh escaped Lucifer, but it quickly turned into a quiet, sad whimper. "Right... Omegas are loved, aren't they?"

“Luci?” Adam tilted his head, his green eyes softening with concern as he caught Lucifer’s gaze. “Have you presented already?”

Lucifer’s throat tightened. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “I…”

“It’s okay if you have,” Adam reassured him, his thumb gently brushing circles on the back of Lucifer’s hand. “You know you can tell me anything. Have you become an Omega?”

Lucifer shook his head so quickly it was almost frantic, his voice trembling as he forced out the words.

“No! No, of course not! I’m not an Omega!” His laugh was high-pitched, strained, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “I’m going to be an Alpha… just like Papa wants… just like I’m supposed to…”

Adam’s expression softened further, his heart aching for his friend. Gently, he squeezed Lucifer’s hand, pulling him a little closer. “Luci… I’m here for you, no matter what.”

A month later, on a warm evening as the sun set, Adam strolled along the street, humming softly to himself as he made his way to the shop to pick up dinner for his mama. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange, and everything seemed peaceful. But his thoughts turned to Lucifer. He hadn’t seen his best friend in days, and Lucifer’s absence weighed heavily on him.

As he rounded a corner, something caught his eye by the dumpsters. A familiar figure, crouched low, huddled in on itself. Adam’s heart stopped.

“Lucifer!” he called out, rushing to the small figure.

Lucifer was curled up, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, his face hidden as if trying to disappear into himself. His frail form looked even smaller in the dimming light, his entire body trembling.

“Lucifer!” Adam cried again, falling to his knees in front of him. His hands hovered anxiously over Lucifer’s shoulders, unsure if he should touch him or not. “What’s wrong? Why are you out here? You’re freezing!”

Lucifer’s body shuddered under Adam’s worried gaze, his form too cold, too fragile. Without thinking, Adam pulled off his coat and draped it over Lucifer’s small shoulders, trying to warm him up.

“I…” Lucifer’s voice was barely a whisper, his breath hitching as his body trembled harder.

“What did you say?” Adam asked, leaning in closer, his heart pounding with concern.

Suddenly, Lucifer looked up, his blue eyes wide and filled with anguish, tears streaming down his flushed face.

“I presented as an Omega!” he sobbed, his voice breaking with the weight of the confession.

Without a second thought, Adam pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him close as Lucifer buried his face in Adam’s chest, sobbing harder. Adam didn’t fully understand what it all meant, but he knew Lucifer was in pain, and that was enough. He held him close, his arms wrapped protectively around his trembling friend, trying to shield him from the world.

Lucifer stayed with Adam more often after that, curling up in Adam’s bed on nights when the loneliness was too much to bear. Adam’s mama took care of Lucifer like he was one of her own, and Adam noticed how much Lucifer had latched onto her. But it was with Adam that Lucifer clung the tightest, though Adam never fully understood just how deep those feelings ran.

Six months later, Lucifer stood outside Adam’s bedroom, rocking nervously on the balls of his feet. His fingers fidgeted with the loose threads of Adam’s sweater, a garment he had grown fond of wearing. His heart was in his throat as he waited for any sign of what was happening inside.

When the door finally opened, Adam’s mama stepped out, her face warm and comforting. She brushed Lucifer’s golden hair out of his face and cupped his cheek gently.

“Everything’s alright, baby,” she whispered softly, making Lucifer relax, though the anxiety in his chest didn’t fully subside.

“Did he present?” Lucifer asked, his voice barely audible, filled with nervous anticipation. “Is he… an Omega?”

She nodded with a tender smile. “He is.”

Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. “And… he’s okay?”

Adam’s mama leaned down and kissed his forehead softly, her hand still cradling his face. “He’s fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

Lucifer took a deep breath, the relief washing over him. Adam wasn’t like his parents—Adam would be fine. Not everyone had to face what he did.

“That’s good,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.

“You can go in and see him,” she offered with a sweet smile.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I-I can?”

“Of course,” she chuckled softly. “I think Addie would love to see you.”

Lucifer’s heart fluttered in his chest, and with a deep breath, he stepped toward the door. The familiar scent of mint and apples filled the air, and a small smile tugged at his lips. They both had apple pheromones.

With one last glance at Adam’s mama, Lucifer stepped into the room, his blue eyes squinting as they adjusted to the soft light. His heart raced with every step closer to his best friend.

Lucifer stepped into Adam’s room, immediately enveloped by the warm, soothing scent of mint, apples, and something faintly floral. It was intoxicating, calming, and mingled so beautifully with his own pheromones that it made his heart swell. He preened under the comfort of it, the familiar blend making him feel as though he belonged here, in this very space where Adam lived and breathed.

But the room itself was unlike its usual neatness. Blankets, cushions, quilts, and scattered clothes were thrown haphazardly across the bed, forming a makeshift nest that looked both chaotic and inviting. It was a proper Omega's nest, something Lucifer couldn’t make himself, no matter how much he wanted to. Seeing Adam’s cozy refuge stirred a deep ache inside him, a longing so intense it nearly brought him to tears. He wanted to crawl into that nest, to curl up beside Adam and never leave.

His hands twisted together nervously as he shuffled closer to the bed. Adam lay in the center, his face pale, his green eyes rimmed with red as if he had cried or hadn't slept in days. He looked feverish, his skin glistening with sweat, but as soon as he saw Lucifer, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Luci,” Adam murmured, his voice rough and thick with exhaustion. “I’m okay… you don’t need to worry so much.”

Lucifer’s heart clenched at the sight of his friend in such a vulnerable state. He couldn’t help the anxious flutter in his chest.

“I just… I just care about you,” he whispered, his voice barely steady.

Adam’s smile softened, a warmth in his eyes that melted the tension from Lucifer’s body. He reached out, his hand resting limply on the edge of the bed. “Come lay down with me?”

Lucifer froze, uncertain for a moment. He’d never been this close to Adam during such an intimate time, during a vulnerable moment like this. His throat tightened with hesitation, but when he looked into Adam’s eyes, all he saw was trust, safety… and something deeper that made his heart skip. Slowly, he nodded and crawled into the nest beside Adam.

As he lay down, the blankets soft beneath him, Lucifer’s eyes never left Adam’s face. He watched as Adam sighed deeply, his entire body relaxing as though Lucifer’s presence alone brought him comfort. Adam’s eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evening out as if he were on the verge of sleep.

Lucifer’s hand hovered uncertainly over the blankets before he gently placed it on top of Adam’s. The warmth of Adam’s skin sent a jolt through him, and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. Adam’s lips curved into a soft smile, his fingers curling around Lucifer’s, their hands threading together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They lay there, hands intertwined, smiles small and tender as the quiet enveloped them. But inside Lucifer, something profound shifted. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, his stomach flipping with a feeling he couldn’t ignore anymore.

He liked Adam.

He liked him a lot.

It was a realization so strong, it nearly knocked the breath from him. It was more than friendship, more than the comforting bond they had shared for years. It was something deeper, something that made his heart race and his soul yearn to be closer to Adam, to hold him, to protect him, to love him. The weight of that feeling settled heavily in his chest, terrifying in its intensity, but beautiful all the same.

He squeezed Adam’s hand just a little tighter, a silent confession blooming in his heart, though his lips remained closed. Adam shifted beside him, still smiling, and for a brief, heart-wrenching moment, Lucifer wondered if Adam felt the same.

But that thought, that hope, was fragile—something Lucifer was too scared to confront, at least not yet. For now, it was enough to lie beside him, to feel Adam’s hand in his, and to hold onto this quiet moment, even if it was fleeting.

“Don’t worry Luci, we’ll always be together.” Adam whispered sleepily.

Lucifer let out a soft breath of relief and smiled shyly. He wiggled closer, nuzzling his face against Adam’s.

Lucifer realised then…it was more than like. He was falling for Adam. He was falling in love with Adam.

A few years later, the panic that once gripped Lucifer had subsided, replaced by a quiet acceptance of his feelings. He no longer questioned his emotions or tried to suppress them—he loved Adam. He adored him with every fiber of his being. Adam had become the center of Lucifer’s world, the reason he smiled, the reason he felt safe in a world that often felt so uncertain. Being with Adam, by his side, had become his purpose.

Lucifer had always known, deep down, that his feelings were intense, perhaps more so than they should have been. He didn’t just love Adam as a friend. He wanted more, yearned for more. He wanted to mate with him, to spend his life wrapped in Adam’s warmth, building something beautiful between them. It felt wrong sometimes, a desperate, aching wrongness that clawed at him because he knew their town would never accept it. Their town was bound by tradition, by rules that suffocated the heart.

Every year, the bonfire ritual was held—a grand ceremony where the young were supposed to find their mates, the person they were destined to start a family with. Omegas, Alphas, Betas—all followed their assigned roles, all obeyed the unwritten rules that defined their futures. When the time came, you were adorned with a flower and fruit crown, symbols of who you were and who you were meant to be with. Lucifer had been so relieved, so overjoyed when he saw Adam’s crown, filled with apples and carnations, the same as his own. It felt like a sign from the universe, a secret whisper that perhaps, just perhaps, their love wasn’t as impossible as it seemed.

But those were foolish hopes. Lucifer had always known that. He knew it was wrong, that two omegas couldn’t be together, not in the way he wanted. But he couldn’t help it. His heart was stubborn, blind to reason, longing only for Adam and no one else. His love was so pure, so deeply ingrained in him, that he couldn’t even imagine loving anyone else.

That is, until the day his world fell apart.

They were nestled together in Adam’s bed—or their nest, as Lucifer had long ago come to think of it. He had claimed it as his own, curling into it every chance he got, drawn to the comfort and warmth that only Adam could provide. They lay side by side, fingers intertwined, their scents mingling in the air like a quiet confession of their bond. It was intimate in a way that no one else would understand. This was their sanctuary, their place of solace.

“Hey, Luci…” Adam’s voice was soft, almost fragile.

Lucifer hummed in acknowledgment, rolling over to press his face against Adam’s throat, inhaling the familiar scent of apples and mint. He nuzzled into Adam’s neck with a smile, content in the moment, feeling safe in the knowledge that Adam was his, at least here, in this nest. Adam giggled softly at the touch, the sound filling Lucifer’s heart with warmth.

“Can you keep a secret?” Adam asked, his voice suddenly quieter, more vulnerable.

Lucifer batted his long lashes, looking up at him with a playful smirk. “Of course I can. You know I’d never betray you.”

Adam was silent for a moment, the kind of silence that weighed heavy, thick with something unspoken. His cheeks flushed, a shy, nervous look crossing his face that Lucifer had never seen before. Something inside Lucifer twisted, a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right.

“You know Lilith?” Adam finally asked, his voice hesitant.

Lucifer froze, his body tensing as the name slipped into the air like a poison.

"Lilith Leonheart?" he echoed, his heart beginning to pound painfully in his chest.

The blonde Alpha who had recently partnered with Adam for their science project. Lucifer’s mind raced, the sinking sensation deepening into something darker, something more terrifying.

"The Alpha who presented a while back? You’ve been spending time with her, haven’t you?"

Adam nodded, his face flushing an even deeper red.

“I think…I like her, Luci," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I think I really like her."

"Oh." The single word left Lucifer’s lips like a broken whisper, so soft, so fragile that it barely made a sound.

His heart splintered, shattering into pieces as the world crumbled around him.

Adam liked her. An Alpha. Someone he could be with, someone he was supposed to be with. Lucifer’s chest ached, a sharp, unbearable pain blooming inside him as if someone had reached in and torn out his heart. His hand, still entwined with Adam’s, went cold, his fingers trembling. He wanted to pull away, to curl up into himself and disappear. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave, not when Adam was looking at him with those soft, trusting eyes.

“She’s so nice and smart. Oh, Luci. She’s so smart. I don’t think I’ve ever meet somebody as intelligent as Lilith before. She’s amazing.” Adam rambled without thinking.

How could he have been so foolish? So blind? All this time, he had believed that Adam would one day look at him the way he wanted, the way he needed. He had hoped for something that was never possible.

Lucifer tried to smile, tried to push down the tidal wave of hurt threatening to drown him.

“That’s… that’s great, Adam,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I’m happy for you.”

“Luci, do you think she’ll like me too?” Adam whisper shyly. “I might not be good enough for somebody like her.”

“Of course you’ll be enough for her Addie. You’d be enough for anyone. I don’t think you realise how…amazing you really are.” Lucifer said with a warm smile.

Adam gasped. “Oh Luci. You’re so sweet. I’m so lucky to have you has my best friend.”

But Adam didn’t seem to notice the way Lucifer’s voice cracked, the way his eyes filled with unshed tears. He was too wrapped up in his own feelings, too caught in the excitement of something new, something real. And Lucifer, as much as it tore him apart, couldn’t bear to take that away from him.

Because he loved Adam.

And if loving Adam meant letting him go, then Lucifer would. Even if it broke him. Even if it destroyed him from the inside out.

He would love Adam, silently, painfully, forever.

The following weeks were nothing short of torment for Lucifer. Agony gripped his heart every time he watched Adam and Lilith interact, a constant reminder that his once unshakable bond with Adam was slowly unraveling. It was unbearable. Adam’s attention had shifted so dramatically that it felt like a cruel betrayal. They had been inseparable, desk buddies since kindergarten, and now, without warning, Adam had traded him for Lilith Leonheart.

Every stolen glance, every whispered conversation between Adam and Lilith felt like a knife twisting deeper into Lucifer's chest. He watched in silent agony as they exchanged shy smiles, their touches lingering just a second too long for Lucifer's comfort. How many classes did they share? It felt as though every time Lucifer turned his head, there they were—laughing together, Lilith’s melodious voice cutting through the air like a bell, drawing Adam in further. And all Lucifer could do was sit there, helpless and sidelined, no longer Adam's first thought, no longer his constant companion.

The longer Lucifer endured this, the more the rage festered within him. He tried to hide it, to swallow it down, but every time he saw Lilith dare to touch Adam’s arm, saw her laugh at one of his sweet jokes, it burned. His nails dug into his palms beneath the table as he hunched over, glaring at them from a distance. How could Adam not see what was happening? In Adam’s eyes, they were just friends, but to Lucifer, it felt like a slow, torturous death. Adam was slipping through his fingers, and Lucifer didn’t know how to stop it.

He buried his face in his arms, his sharp blue eyes narrowing to slits as they peered out in a harsh glare. Of course, he could see why Adam liked her. Lilith was beautiful—irritatingly so. She was the kind of Alpha that turned heads, with her long, silken blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight and those ice-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through anyone she looked at. Her smile, perfect and warm, had a way of lighting up the room, and Lucifer could almost understand why Adam would be drawn to her. If he wasn’t madly, hopelessly in love with Adam, he might have admired her too.

But that didn’t make it any less painful. That didn’t stop the jealousy from clawing its way through his chest like a wildfire, burning everything in its path. It wasn’t fair. Why was it never fair?

Lucifer’s lips twisted into a sneer as he watched them from the corner of his eye. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs, every beat a reminder that Adam was no longer his alone. It hurt—God, it hurt so much that he wanted to scream. He could feel it building inside of him, this tidal wave of bitterness, of anger, of resentment that he couldn’t hold back. Adam was supposed to be his. His mate. His everything.

But Lilith… Lilith had stolen that from him. Without even trying.

Lucifer huffed quietly, burying his face deeper into his arms to hide the tears threatening to spill over. His chest was tight, his throat aching as he fought against the sobs rising inside him. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to be weak. But it was too much—watching the person he loved, the person he had always wanted to be with, slipping away right in front of him. And for what? For a perfect, golden Alpha like Lilith, who could give Adam everything that Lucifer couldn’t.

His heart twisted painfully, and he pressed his hands against his chest as if trying to hold it together. He had never felt so helpless. So bitterly jealous.

It was suffocating.

Every part of him screamed to fight for Adam, to claw his way back into Adam’s life and make him see, make him feelwhat Lucifer was too terrified to say out loud. But what could he do? What could he possibly say that would change things? Adam was too kind, too sweet, too loyal to hurt Lilith—and Lucifer hated that he loved those things about him. He hated how much he loved Adam, how much he needed him.

A part of him wanted to storm up to Lilith and tear her away from Adam, to scream that Adam belonged to him. But he knew it would never work. He couldn’t change the rules of the world, couldn’t make Adam feel what he did.

So Lucifer stayed where he was, face buried in his arms, the storm of jealousy and heartbreak raging inside him as he slowly, painfully, realized something: maybe he was losing Adam for good.

At lunch, Adam had smiled brightly as he extended the invitation for Lilith to join them. Lucifer's heart sank, but he forced a tight smile, determined to be sweet, to mask the bitterness that clung to his insides. He told himself it was for Adam's sake. He’d do anything for Adam, even if it meant sitting through this agonizing lunch with Lilith—an alpha whose angelic voice grated on Lucifer’s every nerve. There was something too perfect about her, something that made Lucifer's skin itch with unease. Still, he sat quietly, biting back every sarcastic retort that rose like bile in his throat.

Lilith was all gentleness, her soft-spoken words weaving through the conversation like silk. She was the picture of grace, and it made Lucifer's blood boil. He tried to be nice, he really did, but a few snide remarks slipped out despite his best efforts. Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, his face a mask of confusion as he glanced between the two of them. Sensing the tension, Lilith excused herself with that same gentle smile, saying she’d just pop to the bathroom and be back soon. Adam nodded, flashing her a grateful grin before turning to Lucifer.

“Are you feeling alright, Luci?” Adam’s brow furrowed in concern, his green eyes searching Lucifer’s face.

Lucifer snorted, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, though his tone was sharper than he intended.

Adam wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? You… don’t seem to like Lilith very much.”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he considered telling Adam the truth. Telling him how much he hated this, how much it hurt to watch Lilith slowly take his place. But instead, he forced a smile and said, “I like Lilith just fine.”

Adam frowned, his voice softer now. “Then what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Lucifer snapped a bit too quickly.

He could feel the tension rising in his chest, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. But before Adam could press further, Lilith returned, her smile as radiant as ever.

Lucifer decided to switch tactics. He plastered on his most charming smile, turning his attention fully to Lilith.

“Oh, welcome back, Lilith,” he cooed, his voice sickly sweet.

He was extra nice now, laying it on thick, but he couldn’t help letting his sly side slip through the cracks. His compliments were laced with barbs, his smiles never quite reaching his eyes. He watched for a reaction, waiting for Lilith to take offense, but then… he noticed something in her gaze—a flicker, a twinkle, like a mirror to his own cunning nature.

It intrigued him. There was something in her eyes that wasn’t innocence. It was something darker, something playful. A likeness to his own mischievous tendencies. Slowly, a realization dawned on Lucifer—Lilith liked it. She found his sharpness endearing. She wasn’t repelled by his snide remarks; she was drawn in.

Lucifer’s interest piqued, a wicked curiosity unfurling in his chest. He didn’t like Lilith, not even a little, but now he was intrigued. How far would she go if an omega tangled themselves in front of her, testing the limits? How easy would it be to capture her attention?

And it was easy—too easy. He barely had to try. Within minutes, Lilith’s focus shifted entirely to him. She brushed Adam off without a second thought, her icy blue eyes fixated on Lucifer as if he were the only person in the room. Lucifer felt a twisted satisfaction bloom inside him, his heart thumping as he watched Adam’s face fall.

Serves you right, Lucifer thought bitterly. You ignored me, replaced me with her. Now you can feel what I’ve felt.

But the satisfaction didn’t last. Guilt crept in as he saw the sadness cloud Adam’s eyes, his smile faltering as he realized he was being left out. Lucifer’s heart ached, the jealousy and anger melting away. This wasn’t what he wanted. Not really. He didn’t want to hurt Adam.

Lucifer shifted the conversation, steering it back toward Adam, and as soon as Adam’s smile returned, so did Lucifer’s peace. Lilith rejoined the conversation, but Lucifer noticed how her eyes kept flicking back to him, how she watched him with growing interest. A plan started to form in his mind, one so wickedly perfect that he couldn’t help but smirk to himself.

I’ll show Adam what Lilith’s really like. He thought, I’ll prove she’s not a good alpha for him.

Without a second thought, Lucifer reached forward under the table, brushing his ankle against Lilith’s. He watched her closely, his eyes dark with anticipation. Lilith’s icy blue eyes brightened instantly, her smile widening as she perked up at the contact.

Oh, the game is on.

Lucifer felt a surge of confidence wash over him. He would win. He had to. Lilith wasn’t good enough for Adam, and Lucifer would make sure Adam saw that. He would prove that no one could love Adam the way he did, that no one else deserved to be by his side.

Lilith wasn’t right for his Addie.

And Lucifer would do whatever it took to show Adam the truth.

“Would you like to go out with me on a date?” Lilith asked tenderly.

Lilith’s question hung in the air, delicate but heavy with unspoken meaning. For a brief moment, Lucifer hesitated, his heart teetering on the edge. Adam liked Lilith, after all. He had been trying for weeks, his eyes lighting up with hope every time she spoke to him. But here she was, asking Lucifer on a date. It had barely been a couple of days since Lucifer had set his plan in motion, and already Lilith was tripping over herself for him. She hadn’t once asked Adam out, hadn’t even noticed him like that, despite his sweet attempts to get her attention.

Lucifer's eyes flicked past Lilith to where Adam stood a few paces behind her, waiting. His expression was hard to read, a soft smile on his lips, but his green eyes—usually so full of warmth—seemed dim. Lucifer hardly went home anymore; Adam’s house had become his sanctuary. They were always together, walking side by side, sharing the weight of each other’s presence. Lucifer ached to push past Lilith, to take Adam’s hand in his, to swing their arms and steal his attention with a gleeful smile, as they had always done. But this was important.

If Lucifer wanted to show Adam the truth, if he wanted to protect him from the heartbreak he knew Lilith would cause, he had to play this game carefully. So, Lucifer put on his sweetest smile, eyes twinkling as he gazed up at Lilith. With a flirtatious wink and a suggestive grin, he nodded.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, his voice laced with a subtle charm. “I’d love to go out with you.”

Lilith’s face lit up, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink blush. She beamed at him, clearly pleased with his answer.

“That’s great,” she murmured, her voice soft as silk. “Friday night?”

Lucifer’s grin widened, and he nodded. “Friday sounds perfect.”

Lilith hesitated for a moment, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of Adam.

“I was supposed to meet up with Adam to work on our science project, but…” She trailed off, her fingers brushing lightly against Lucifer’s arm.

Lucifer’s grin sharpened, though his voice remained light.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “Adam will understand.”

Lilith smiled, her fingers lingering for just a moment before she nodded.

“You’re right. He’s your best friend—he’ll get it.” With one last smile, she waved and turned to leave.

As soon as she was out of sight, Lucifer’s grin faded, and a knot twisted in his chest. He spun around, eager to skip back to Adam’s side, to be close to him, to bask in the comfort of his presence. But as he approached, his heart sank. Adam wasn’t smiling. His eyes were downcast, his usual brightness dimmed. He looked… small. Hurt. Lucifer’s chest tightened painfully.

“What were you and Lilith talking about?” Adam asked softly, not meeting Lucifer’s eyes.

Lucifer smirked, though it felt forced now. He shrugged, trying to keep his voice light. “She asked me out. We’re going out this Friday.”

Adam pressed his lips together, his gaze dropping further. His voice was barely above a whisper as he muttered, “Oh.”

Lucifer’s heart ached at the sound, a sharp pang of guilt cutting through him. He reached out, grabbing Adam’s hand and squeezing it tightly, desperate to feel that familiar warmth between them.

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “Lilith knows you guys were supposed to work on your project, but she’ll rain check with you. You understand, right?”

Adam nodded slowly, his voice hollow. “Yeah… sure. I get it.”

Lucifer beamed up at him, but Adam didn’t look back. His hand, though still held in Lucifer’s, felt limp, lifeless. The knot in Lucifer’s chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. He wanted to protect Adam, to show him that Lilith wasn’t the right alpha for him, but now… now he wasn’t so sure.

Lucifer had never felt so torn. The plan was working—Lilith was falling for him, and Adam was beginning to see her in a different light. But it wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. It wasn’t supposed to feel like his heart was being ripped in two.

As they walked together, Adam was quieter than usual, his eyes focused on the ground. Lucifer tried to break the silence, but his attempts fell flat. The usual spark between them felt dull, and every time he looked at Adam, that ache in his chest deepened.

Friday came faster than Lucifer expected. The date loomed ahead of him like a shadow, and the closer it got, the more he dreaded it. He didn’t want to go out with Lilith. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. What he wanted was to grab Adam, pull him close, and tell him the truth—that it wasn’t Lilith he cared about, that it had never been her. It was him. It had always been Adam.

But he couldn’t say that. Not yet. Instead, he stood there, forcing another smile as Lilith approached, her golden hair catching the light, her perfect smile making him feel hollow inside.

The following weeks passed like a slow, agonizing dream. Lilith and Lucifer grew closer with each day, their laughter mingling over lunch and conversations about everything except the one thing that mattered most. Adam, meanwhile, seemed to drift further and further away, his absence a silent weight that gnawed at Lucifer’s heart. He couldn’t understand why Adam was pulling back—not from Lilith, that part made sense—but from him. That hurt in a way Lucifer hadn’t expected. The growing distance between them was like a splinter buried deep in his chest, constantly aching.

Every lunch felt wrong. What used to be a sacred ritual shared between him and Adam had now become something hollow and joyless. It wasn’t supposed to be just him and Lilith. It was supposed to be him and Adam, laughing over silly jokes and stealing glances like they always had. The plan had been simple: prove to Adam that Lilith wasn’t the perfect alpha he thought she was. But instead, all he seemed to be doing was pushing Adam further away, straining their friendship in a way Lucifer hadn’t anticipated.

Lilith’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts one afternoon.

“Lucifer,” she asked softly, her golden hair catching the sun, “are you alright? You’ve seemed... a little down lately.”

Lucifer blinked, forcing himself back into the moment. He plastered on a smile, the same charming mask he always wore.

“Everything’s perfectly fine,” he said, his voice light and easy.

But Lilith wasn’t convinced. Her eyes narrowed with concern, and she leaned in slightly. “Is it about Adam?”

Lucifer’s heart stuttered at the sound of Adam’s name, his eyes widening in surprise. For a split second, he even looked around, half-expecting Adam to be standing somewhere nearby. But of course, he wasn’t. Adam wasn’t there anymore. He rarely was.

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the sudden quickening of his heartbeat.

Lilith sighed, glancing down for a moment as if considering her words carefully.

“I’ve noticed he’s been... distant. From both of us.” She paused, her eyes softening with sympathy. “You two were so close. Everyone knew it. Best friends since forever, practically joined at the hip. I can understand why you’re feeling a little down with him pulling away like this. But he’ll come around. He just needs time to... heal.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed, his stomach twisting in confusion.

“Heal?” The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong in the same sentence as Adam. “What do you mean? Heal from what?”

Lilith offered him a weak, uncomfortable smile, her gaze falling to her lap.

“I think Adam’s... hurting. He has feelings for me, Lucifer. It’s obvious. And I... well, I didn’t mean to give him the wrong impression, but he’s probably heartbroken, seeing me with someone else.”

Lucifer’s heart clenched painfully. Adam, heartbroken? He’d known Adam liked Lilith, but he hadn’t thought—hadn’t realized how deep those feelings might have gone. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Of course, this would hurt Adam. He’d been too focused on his plan, on showing Adam that Lilith wasn’t right for him, to think about how much it might be tearing Adam apart to watch them together.

His jaw tightened, guilt weaving its way through his chest. He felt... stupid. Selfish. Of course, Adam was hurting. And for what? Lucifer’s plan? To make Adam see something that might not even matter anymore?

“Were you never interested in Adam?” Lucifer asked, his voice coming out smaller than he intended. He needed to know, to understand.

Lilith shook her head, her smile apologetic. “No, I wasn’t. Adam’s... he’s sweet. Kind. But he’s too soft for me. Too delicate. I want someone who can challenge me, someone who can bite back.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. Adam wasn’t delicate—he wasn’t—but he knew what she meant. Adam’s gentleness was part of what made him so easy to love. So how could someone not see that as a strength?

Lilith’s hand reached out, her fingers brushing softly against his. “Lucifer, I really like you. I’m sorry if I’ve caused problems between you and Adam. It was never my intention to hurt anyone.”

Lucifer stared down at her hand, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He felt... torn. Confused. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He didn’t want this, not really. But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he was so close.

Lilith’s voice broke through his thoughts again.

“Would you... come with me to the bonfire ritual?” she asked, her voice soft, almost hopeful. “It would mean a lot.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to reply, but the words got stuck in his throat. This was it. His moment. He could take her to the bonfire, in front of everyone—in front of Adam—and show, once and for all, that Lilith wasn’t the alpha Adam thought she was. It was the perfect opportunity to make his point. To prove that she wasn’t worthy of Adam’s love.

But as he hesitated, his mind flickered back to Adam—the way his eyes had looked so empty the last time they’d spoken, the way his hand had felt cold and limp in his grasp. Was this really worth it? Hurting Adam like this, just to prove a point?

“I...” Lucifer’s voice faltered, his heart twisting painfully in his chest.

He wanted to win. He wanted to show Lilith wasn’t the one for Adam. But more than that, he wanted things to go back to the way they were—before all of this. When it was just him and Adam, walking side by side, laughing and sharing their quiet moments.

Lilith waited, her hand still resting on his, her smile hopeful. But Lucifer’s heart wasn’t in it anymore. He wasn’t sure it ever had been.

“Sure. I’d love to go with you.”

Once Lucifer had agreed to go to the bonfire ritual with Lilith, everything seemed to shift. He had thought the game would be over by the night’s end—Adam was supposed to see them together, realize that Lilith wasn’t the alpha for him, and move on. Then, Lucifer would return to Adam’s side, and life would fall back into place, just like before. But the reality was far more complicated, and the bonfire ritual didn’t unfold the way he imagined. Instead of a simple resolution, it was a night of growing frustration.

Lucifer kept his distance from Lilith, his eyes scanning the crowd for Adam, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him. But Adam never appeared, and that absence ate away at Lucifer’s heart. He had anticipated Adam’s presence, expecting him to witness what was happening and understand, but without Adam there, Lucifer’s entire plan felt pointless. The flickering firelight cast eerie shadows on Lilith’s face as she tried to kiss him more than once, attempting to initiate the mating ritual with tender touches. But Lucifer rebuffed her, keeping a polite yet firm distance. He had no intention of mating with her—not that night, not ever.

It was when Lilith brought up his heats that Lucifer felt the true weight of the situation. The question caught him entirely off guard, his body tensing instinctively. Omegas’ heats were a private matter, something deeply personal, never openly discussed unless an intimate bond had already been formed. Yet here Lilith was, asking if his had begun.

Adam hasn’t even asked him about his heats and Adam was supposed to be the first person to ask!

“Have you started yet?” Lilith’s voice was curious, but there was an edge to it, a possessive tone that made Lucifer’s skin prickle.

Lucifer stared at her, his expression hardening, unsure how to respond. The audacity of the question rattled him.

“It’s expected,” she continued casually, “for the omega to invite their chosen mate to share their heat with them.”

Lucifer let out a sharp, incredulous snort before he could stop himself. Her assumption, her sense of entitlement, made his blood boil. Lilith stared him down, her eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“So, are you planning on inviting me when it happens?” she asked, her voice quieter but more insistent.

“No,” Lucifer bit back, his tone cold and unyielding. That single word hung in the air between them like a lead weight.

Lilith seemed to come to her own conclusion then, a look of frustrated understanding crossing her face. She nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“I see. It seems we’d be better off as friends, then.” Her voice was calm, but there was a hint of hurt behind it, something Lucifer chose to ignore for his own sake.

Lucifer saw this as his way out, his chance to escape the tangled web he had spun around her.

“Maybe,” he said, offering her a charming smile and a squeeze of the hand. It was his way of softening the blow, but it felt hollow.

Lilith smiled weakly and touched his cheek. “I’ll still be here, you know. When you’re ready.”

She kissed him on the cheek and walked away, leaving Lucifer standing alone by the fire, his chest tightening with guilt and confusion. He had gotten what he wanted—he was free of her—but the emptiness lingered.

The bonfire’s glow faded into the night as Lucifer made his way back to Adam’s house, his thoughts spinning. When he opened the door, the warmth of the home hit him like a wave, making him realize how cold he had been all night. Adam hadn’t been himself lately—distant, quiet, yet still allowing Lucifer to stay in his room, to share his bed. But the closeness they once had was missing. Adam no longer hugged him or reached for his hand like he used to, and the absence of that comfort gnawed at Lucifer’s heart.

As he entered Adam’s room, the sight that greeted him made his chest tighten painfully. Adam was curled up in his nest, a book in his lap, his face calm but distant. Lucifer’s heart sank. The realization hit him like a blow—Adam hadn’t gone to the bonfire. He had stayed home, alone. They had promised, hadn’t they? Promised to attend their first coming-of-age bonfire night together. And Lucifer had completely forgotten.

Tears welled up in Lucifer’s eyes before he could stop them, and before he knew it, he was sobbing. The weight of everything—the broken promise, the distance between them, the confusion in his own heart—came crashing down all at once.

Adam looked up, startled, and quickly set his book aside.

“Lucifer?” he called softly, concern filling his voice as he scrambled to his feet. Within seconds, he was at Lucifer’s side, his hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him into a warm embrace.

“What happened? Why are you crying?”

Lucifer clung to him, his body shaking with sobs.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to hurt you... with Lilith.”

Adam’s gentle hum soothed him as he hugged Lucifer tighter, his hand stroking through Lucifer’s hair in the way that always calmed him down.

“It’s okay,” Adam whispered softly, his omega pheromones flooding the room with the familiar scent of apple blossoms, comforting and safe. “I’m not mad at you.”

Lucifer sobbed harder at that, his heart twisting with guilt. “Then why... why were you pushing me away?”

Adam pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Lucifer’s tear-filled eyes. He took Lucifer’s hand, leading him to the nest, guiding him gently to sit.

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” Adam said quietly, his voice filled with warmth and patience. “I just... I needed some space. I needed time to deal with my own feelings.”

Lucifer looked at him, confused. “Feelings?”

Adam nodded, sighing softly. “I liked Lilith. But I saw that you liked her too. And she liked you back. I wanted you to be happy, Lucifer. So I tried to stay out of the way... to let you two figure things out. I thought that was best.”

Lucifer’s heart shattered at those words. He cried harder, the weight of Adam’s kindness crushing him.

Adam was too good for him. How could he have been so blind, so selfish?

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer repeated, his voice broken as the tears flowed freely. “I’m so sorry.”

Adam just smiled softly and pulled him closer, holding him tight. “It’s okay, Luci. I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

Later that night, after the tears had dried, Lucifer confessed everything about the bonfire, about Lilith’s promises. Adam simply smiled, brushing his fingers through Lucifer’s hair.

“There’s no rush,” Adam whispered. “Lilith will wait until you’re ready.”

Lucifer nodded, but deep down, he knew the truth he couldn’t say out loud. He didn’t want Lilith. He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Adam. He wanted to be with him.

As Adam stroked his hair and held him close, Lucifer snuggled deeper into the warmth of his embrace, purring softly. Everything seemed to fall back into place after that night. Adam held his hand again, their laughter returned, and they sat together in lessons and at lunch, just like before. It was as if nothing had changed, and Lucifer sighed in relief.

Occasionally, Lilith would smile at him from across the room, a knowing look in her eyes, as if silently reminding him that she was still waiting. Lucifer would smile back, but it was always sheepish, a fleeting gesture. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth—that she would be waiting forever. He would never want her. He only ever wanted Adam.

In the end, it didn’t matter. His plan had worked. He had gotten rid of the alpha that threatened to take Adam away, and now he had Adam all to himself. That was a victory in his book, even if it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

It was just the two of them again, as it had always been, as it was always meant to be. After everything—Lilith, the bonfire, the distance—things had returned to their quiet rhythm. They graduated from school and moved on to college together, side by side, just like they had always promised. But something lingered in the air between them, an unspoken truth that neither could quite bring themselves to say aloud. For Lucifer, it was both comforting and painful, this quiet intimacy, because every glance, every touch, only made him yearn for Adam more.

Lucifer never forgot the first thing Adam had ever taught him—how to draw a duck. It was such a simple thing, yet it had sparked something deep inside him, a fascination with ducks that never left him. It had become their little joke, a tender reminder of the start of everything. So, when Lucifer announced what he intended to study in college, the expression on Adam’s face was priceless, and Lucifer wished more than anything that he had a camera to capture the moment.

“Really, Luci?” Adam asked, his voice dripping with disbelief, though there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes. “Are you playing with me again?”

Lucifer couldn’t help but grin wide, his sharp teeth flashing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There was a playful light in his gaze, the one that always seemed to make Adam’s heart stutter, though Lucifer never noticed.

“Nope,” Lucifer confirmed, his grin growing impossibly larger. “I’m serious. I’m going into businesses studies. All for the foundation of... wait for it... rubber ducks.”

Adam’s mouth fell open in astonishment, his brows furrowed as if trying to decipher whether Lucifer was joking or not.

“Rubber ducks?” he repeated slowly, as though the words themselves were foreign on his tongue.

Lucifer nodded enthusiastically, his eyes gleaming with pride.

“Yup! I’m going to open my very own rubber duck shop. I just need to learn how to run it without going bankrupt first.” He laughed, but there was a sincerity in his voice, a determination that Adam had always admired.

Adam blinked a few times, still processing. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmured, his eyes softening as he gazed at Lucifer. There was something tender in the way he looked at him, something unspoken but so deeply felt.

“But you know,” Adam continued thoughtfully, “you don’t have to limit yourself to rubber ducks. You could do a whole duck-themed shop. Duck clothes, towels, blankets, ornaments—you could even sell duck-themed snacks.”

Lucifer’s heart swelled with affection. He wanted to kiss Adam right then and there, wanted to close the gap between them and let all the words he could never say spill into that one moment. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Instead, he gave a soft laugh, his eyes lingering on Adam’s face, memorizing every detail, every freckle, every line that crinkled when he smiled.

“You always know how to make everything better, Adam.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away, shy under Lucifer’s gaze.

“I just want you to succeed,” he mumbled, though there was a hint of something more in his voice, something deeper.

Lucifer’s heart ached in the most bittersweet way. The longing gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, as he always did. He would settle for this—for the closeness, for the laughter, for the way Adam always seemed to make everything brighter, even when he didn’t realize it.

The days stretched on, turning into weeks, then months. They studied together, lived together, and every moment was laced with the same quiet yearning that Lucifer kept hidden away. He told himself it was enough. Being by Adam’s side was enough, even if he could never have more. But late at night, when the world was quiet and Adam was asleep beside him, Lucifer’s heart would whisper truths he couldn’t bear to voice.

He wanted more. He wanted everything.

He wanted Adam, not as a friend, not as a companion, but as something more, something deeper. But fear held him back. What if confessing changed everything? What if Adam pulled away? What if Lucifer lost the only person who had ever truly known him, who had been there from the very beginning?

One night, as they lay in their shared bed, Adam turned toward him, his voice soft and drowsy in the darkness.

“Lucifer?”

“Yeah?”

Adam hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice almost a whisper. “Are you happy? I mean... with everything?”

Lucifer swallowed, his throat tightening as he fought back the emotions threatening to spill over. He turned to look at Adam, his heart pounding in his chest.

“I am,” he said, though the words felt heavy, incomplete. “I’m happy as long as I’m with you.”

Adam’s eyes met his, and for a brief moment, something flickered between them, something raw and vulnerable. But before Lucifer could grasp it, Adam smiled softly and closed his eyes again, settling back into the comfort of their shared space.

Lucifer lay awake long after that, staring up at the ceiling, his heart aching with the weight of all the things left unsaid. He wanted to tell Adam the truth—that he wasn’t just happy because they were together as friends. He was happy because Adam was his world, because every day spent with him was a day he cherished more than anything else. Because Adam saved him and lucifer wouldn’t be here otherwise.

But he couldn’t say it. Not yet.

So, he let the silence fall between them again, just as he always had, and waited for the courage that might one day come. Until then, he would stay by Adam’s side, hoping that one day, things might change. That one day, Adam might see him the way Lucifer saw him—with love, with longing, and with the deepest part of his heart.

But for now, it was enough to be close, even if the space between them was filled with words they were too afraid to speak.

Of course his heats began the week before they were due to start college together. They had agreed on becoming roommates. Lucifers whole body flared with delicious heat and between his soft thighs an ache for Adam grow.

Adam was kind. Adams mama (his adopted mama he supposed) was understanding. Having learnt about heats and the cycle of being an omega, it really shouldn’t have been that surprising. But it was nice to have two omegas that understood and helped him.

Lucifer debated going back to his family house while his heat rampaged through him. The thought that Adam might over hear him and his desire for him was too much. Adam, bless his heart, tried to get Lucifer to stay but Lucifer couldn’t. They were both omegas and he didn’t want to see the disgust in Adams face if he accidentally heard Lucifer moaning for him. Besides Lucifer didn’t trust himself not to jump Adam.

The real problems began after his heat. His body was more awake. More aware. During college he was surrounded by Adam. Adams touch, Adam pheromones, his clothes, his boxers, his everything.

More than once Lucifer had waited patiently for Adam to leave for a class, grabbed Adams boxers, locked himself in the bathroom and dropped his pants. His fingers slipped between his soft thighs and Lucifer would spend the next few hours pumping his aching cunt with his fingers while holding Adams boxers to his mouth. He knew it might be considered a little much but he couldn’t help it. He’d lick and suck the fabric, finding the wet patch of Adams own omega core and suck on it, tasting Adams fluids with desire.

“Shit.” He groaned loudly, pushing his soaked fingers harder into his drippy wet cunt. Lucifer shifted on the toilet set, spreading his thighs more and curling his toes. “Fuck. Fuck me Addie. It feels so good.”

Lucifers body trembled from pleasure. He grabbed Adams most recent boxer shorts, a cute blue and white pair that he had seen Adam hastily kicked off this morning. Lucifer had waited until Adam wasn’t looking before swiping them from the ground.

“Mine! Mine! You’re mine Addie! Mine!”

He mouth watered as he sucked on the inside area of the crotch. Lucifer could taste the omega body fluids that were soaked into the fabric and it made him squirt with want. His pussy quivered around his fingers, Lucifer arched them and thrusted even harder.

Lucifers eyes were half shut as he enjoyed the fantasy. “Ah, ah, ohhhhh~ harder Addie. Come on baby. Ride my pussy harder, you can do it~”

Clenching the fabric between his teeth, Lucifers other hand yanked his shirt up and began to rub his breast. His fingers playing with his nipples and making his head fall all the way back, lightly hitting the wall behind the toilet.

“Fuck! Shit!” He moaned, arch his hips and trembling when he heard the loud squishing sound of his body fluids. “Holy shit! Adam! Just like that! More, fuck me more! Ohh! I’m yours Addie! My body belongs to you! Nobody else is allowed to touch me like this, Addie!”

Lucifers body tensed up as he came hard. So hard his eyes rolled back and all he saw was stars. Lucifer panted heavily, his body drenched in sweat and his omega pussy quivering to the point his toes curled inward.

“Shit.” He whispered, licking the wet patch on Adam boxers. His face grow pink as he held them between his hands. “I’m such a creepy. But I just love him so much. I can’t help how I feel.”

With a sigh, Lucifer moved off the toilet. His feet trembling and legs buckling. Ever since he has begun his heats, everything was in overdrive and well…it was so hard sometimes.

Lucifer was touching himself practically on a daily basis. Which was normal for a healthy Omega, he learned. It’s a wonder he hasn’t begun to steal Adam clothes away…the ones he does have, Adam had given him. With another sigh, Lucifer looked at Adam’s boxer shorts and groaned, he had to wash them before Adam comes home…

His pussy began to ache again. Lucifer swallowed thickly and pushed the boxers onto his hand, stretching them out so Adam’s wet patch was face up. Lucifer shifted, lifting his leg and begging to rub the area against his dripping cunt. His head tilted backward and jaw became slack with pleasure.

His body could never settle for long. He’d be fucking himself for another hour or so..

A week later, Adam came bursting into their shared dorm, the door slamming so hard into the wall that Lucifer nearly jumped out of his skin. His heart raced in his chest as he clutched his book to steady his nerves. But before he could even scold Adam for his dramatic entrance, he saw the way Adam's eyes were blazing with excitement, bright and full of life, and Lucifer couldn’t help but grin. Adam was glowing, his joy contagious, and as much as Lucifer's stomach twisted with something darker, he still thought Adam looked adorable, practically vibrating with energy.

“Luci! Luci!” Adam chanted, his voice filled with the kind of excitement that made Lucifer's heart ache and swell all at once. Without warning, Adam leaped at him, knocking the smaller Omega off balance, clutching onto him like he couldn’t wait to share whatever had him so worked up.

“Look! Look at this!”

Lucifer chuckled softly, trying to steady himself under the weight of Adam's enthusiasm.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” he said, his voice full of affection, even though there was a nervous knot forming in the pit of his stomach. He reached for the flyer Adam was waving in his face, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “A music concert?”

“Yeah! Let’s go tonight!” Adam gasped, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a child waiting for Christmas morning.

Lucifer's eyes darkened with confusion.

“But you’ve never really been into music before,” he said, his tone gentle but cautious. His bright blue eyes searched Adam's face, brimming with emotions that he couldn’t quite name, though the familiar sting of jealousy was already starting to claw at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

Adam’s grin widened, so much so that he looked like the Cheshire Cat, his face lighting up in a way that made Lucifer’s heart clench.

“The bass player is so cool! You have no idea! She’s awesome! We’re in the same course, and I started talking to her this morning. She invited me to her show!”

Lucifer felt his stomach drop, the warmth in Adam’s smile suddenly feeling like a knife to the chest. His insides twisted uncomfortably, but he forced a smile to his lips.

“Who?” he asked, his voice tight despite his best efforts to keep it light.

“Her name’s Lute,” Adam replied, practically glowing as he rushed around their dorm, gathering his things in a whirlwind of excitement. “She’s such a cool Alpha. We’ve got so much in common!”

Lucifer froze, his fingers tightening around the edges of the yellow flyer, his nails biting into the paper. “Oh?” he asked, the word slipping out sharper than he intended. “Like what, exactly?”

Adam didn’t seem to notice the change in Lucifer’s tone, too caught up in his excitement. “Well, for one, we both love punk rock! And we both want to leave this town someday, maybe move to a big city like New York! Can you imagine? We both like apple cider and cheesy chips, and she’s into this designer called Pumpkin Skull! You’d love her, Luci!”

Lucifer listened, his heart sinking with every word, his face darkening as Adam continued to ramble on. The flyer in his hand was starting to tear at the edges under his grip, the vibrant yellow paper crinkling in protest. Adam’s eyes were glowing, that beautiful green of his irises shining with every word, with every mention of Lute, with every detail that Lucifer felt like he could have shared too if only Adam had ever asked.

“Don’t do that, Luci!” Adam gasped, his hand reaching out to grab the flyer as Lucifer absentmindedly tore at it, his fingers ripping through the edges without even realizing it. Adam lunged to take it back, but Lucifer ducked under his outstretched hands, his body twisting away with a sharpness that mirrored the ache in his chest.

Lucifer’s thoughts were spinning. So, this Alpha liked apple cider and cheesy chips? Big deal. Lucifer liked those too. He would have left this town in a heartbeat if Adam had ever said he wanted to go. Hell, he would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth. And punk rock? Sure, Lucifer didn’t know the first thing about it, but if that’s what Adam liked, he’d learn. For Adam, he’d learn anything.

But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, he let Adam’s excitement continue to stab at him, word by word. He watched the way Adam’s face lit up when he talked about her—about Lute—and it made his chest feel hollow, like everything between them was slipping away without Adam even realizing it.

Lucifer finally let the crumpled flyer fall from his hands. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost flat.

His eyes lingered on Adam, searching for something—anything—that would tell him that maybe, just maybe, he was still the most important person in Adam’s life. But all he saw was that damn glowing excitement, and it was like a punch to the gut.

Adam blinked, pausing for a moment as if finally sensing the change in Lucifer’s mood. “Luci... you’ll come with me, right?” he asked, his voice softening, concern flickering in his eyes.

Lucifer wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Adam that he didn’t want to go, that he didn’t care about some Alpha with a bass guitar, that all he wanted was to spend the evening wrapped up in the quiet warmth of their dorm, just the two of them. But the words stuck in his throat, choked by the fear of driving Adam away even more.

Instead, he forced a smile, small and brittle.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice tight, betraying the ache in his chest. “I’ll come.”

Adam grinned again, all traces of hesitation vanishing as he rushed to gather his things, talking about how great the concert would be and how cool Lute was. But Lucifer couldn’t hear him anymore. The words washed over him, muffled by the sound of his own heartbeat, the thudding in his chest a painful reminder of all the things he wished he could say but never would.

That night, Lucifer stood beside Adam at the concert, watching as the lights flickered over the stage, the music blaring through the speakers. But his eyes weren’t on the stage. They were on Adam. Watching him. Watching the way he looked at her—Lute—as she played, as if she were the most incredible thing in the world.

And for the first time in his life, Lucifer felt like he was truly losing Adam.

The thought ripped through him, sharp and unforgiving, and as he stood there, surrounded by the noise and the crowd, Lucifer realized that no matter how hard he tried to hold on, Adam was already slipping away from him. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He bit his lip, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. He would smile, he would stand by Adam’s side, just like always. But inside, he was breaking, his heart fracturing with every beat. And Adam, sweet and oblivious, had no idea.

Lucifer wanted to scream, but all he could do was smile.

Eventually, Lute’s band wrapped up, and the stage lights dimmed as she and her bandmates exited to a wave of cheers and clapping. In the low glow of the club, her cool, sharp eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Adam. When she found him, her lips curled into a confident smirk as she made a beeline in their direction. Lucifer trailed behind Adam, the familiar ache in his chest deepening with every step.

Lute was beautiful in a way that was utterly different from Lilith. Where Lilith was all soft curves and dark allure, Lute exuded a raw, unapologetic edge. Her short, choppy hair was a mix of steel gray and white, framing her angular face, and her large brown eyes shone with a sharpness that suggested she saw more than she let on. Her olive skin, warm and smooth, gave Lucifer the impression that she might have Italian roots. She carried herself with an air of careless rebellion, like someone who lived entirely on her own terms. And that made Lucifer’s stomach twist with jealousy all over again.

As soon as Lute reached Adam, he grinned and high-fived her, showering her with compliments about the show, his eyes bright and full of admiration. Lute smirked back, basking in his praise.

"Thanks for coming to support me, Adam," she said, her voice low and velvety, dripping with gratitude.

"Of course I would," Adam replied, and Lucifer could see the faint blush that tinged his cheeks.

He frowned, unable to stop the ugly feeling gnawing at him. He didn’t like the way Lute was looking at Adam, didn’t like the way her presence seemed to pull Adam further and further away from him. It was the same sick feeling he’d felt with Lilith, the same fear that someone else could swoop in and steal Adam from him.

Adam nudged Lucifer, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. He blinked and realized that both Adam and Lute were now looking at him, waiting for a response.

"Luci, this is Lute," Adam said, his voice hesitating slightly. "Lute, this is Lucifer... my best friend."

Lucifer tried to smile, but it felt forced, brittle. He didn’t miss the way Adam had faltered on that last word—friend. Something about it burned more than it should have. And when Lute smiled back at him, friendly but distant, he had to fight the urge to frown. He knew that smile. Knew what it meant. Soon enough, her attention was back on Adam, her laughter easy and familiar, like they’d known each other for years. And Lucifer, standing on the outskirts, felt that old familiar pang of dread.

He knew this game. He’d played it before, with Lilith, and now here it was again—another Alpha trying to steal what was his.

When Adam eventually wandered off to grab drinks—three apple ciders, Lucifer noted bitterly—Lucifer’s jealousy flared again. Apple cider had always been their thing. It felt like a betrayal, however small, and the unfairness of it all churned inside him. Now, alone with Lute, Lucifer prepared to charm her, to weave the same spell that had worked on Lilith, but before he could even begin, Lute’s eyes narrowed.

"You don’t like me, do you?" she said, cutting straight to the point. Her voice was sharp but not unkind, more amused than anything. Lucifer blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

"What?" he tried to deny it, but Lute’s eyes were relentless, pinning him in place like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"I can read people, you know," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms. "I can always tell when someone doesn’t like me or when they don’t want to be somewhere. And you? You’re screaming it, dude."

Lucifer stiffened, realizing there was no point in pretending. He tilted his head, sizing her up in return, before deciding to take a different approach. This wasn’t like with Lilith. Lute wasn’t easily charmed, but she was competitive. Good. He could work with that.

He exhaled softly. "You’re right. I don’t trust Alphas." It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely.

Lute's expression shifted slightly, her tough exterior softening just a touch.

“Bad experiences?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more understanding.

Lucifer nodded, his mind flashing back to those memories—Alphas who had only wanted to possess, to control, to dominate.

“Yeah," he admitted, his voice low. “Really bad ones."

Lute looked at him for a long moment, something thoughtful passing through her eyes. "Well, for what it’s worth, I’m not here to hurt Adam," she said carefully.

Lucifer’s blood boiled at the very idea, his jealousy igniting like a wildfire.

“How do you know that?" he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. "How can you promise you won’t hurt him?"

Lute seemed taken aback by his intensity, but then her expression softened again.

“You’re a good friend," she said after a pause, her eyes warmer now, almost admiring. "I can see how much you care about him. It’s... it’s actually kind of sweet."

Lucifer forced himself to remain composed, hiding the smug satisfaction that spread through him. She’s buying it.

He leaned into the role, making himself appear smaller, more vulnerable. "I just... I don’t want to see him get hurt," he whispered, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "He means the world to me."

Lute’s gaze softened even more, and she took a small step closer, her hand brushing against his arm.

“I promise," she said, her voice firm but kind. "I’m not like those other Alphas. I won’t hurt him. Or you."

Lucifer bit his lip, feigning uncertainty before finally nodding, as if he were cautiously accepting her promise.

“You promise?" he asked again, his voice small.

"I swear," she said, her grip tightening briefly on his shoulder.

By the time Adam returned with the drinks, Lute’s attention had shifted from him to Lucifer, her hand resting on his arm more often than not, her eyes softer whenever she glanced his way. Adam smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He watched them closely, his brow furrowing slightly, his lips twitching as if trying to suppress something. His green eyes darted between Lucifer and Lute, filled with a flicker of uncertainty that Lucifer didn’t notice.

But Adam noticed. He saw the subtle shifts, the closeness between them, and something in his chest tightened painfully. As the night went on, he found himself smiling less and less, his laughter feeling hollow, and for the first time, a strange, gnawing feeling of loss began to creep into his heart.

Lute exchanged numbers with Lucifer that night, and soon enough, she was texting him constantly. Twice a day turned into casual conversations at all hours. It was effortless, really—easier than Lucifer had anticipated. He thought breaking her down would take more effort, that she would be more of a challenge. But no, she was just like all the others. And with each text, each exchange, Lucifer felt a small victory growing inside him.

That night, Lucifer sat curled up with Adam in the dim light of their dorm's living room. A movie flickered on the screen, but neither of them was really paying attention. It was the night of the bonfire ritual, a tradition they usually never missed, but tonight, they both silently agreed that staying in was the better choice. Old Berry would scold them for skipping, but Lucifer didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be—tucked against Adam’s side, his head resting on Adam’s shoulder, the warmth between them like it always had been. Like it was supposed to be.

Lucifer hardly ever slept in his own bed anymore. Even after all these years, he still slipped into Adam’s room at night, just like when they were kids. Adam never pushed him away, never told him no. His room had always been a sanctuary for Lucifer, the one place he could let his guard down, where everything felt safe. But lately, Adam had been different. Stiffer, more distant. Lucifer could feel it in the way Adam’s body didn’t relax against his anymore, in the way his responses had grown shorter, more clipped.

The soft chime of a message interrupted the quiet. Lucifer groaned, stretching lazily to grab his phone from the coffee table. The screen lit up with a text from Lute.

"Is that Lute?" Adam asked, his voice quieter than usual, a hint of something unspoken threading through his words.

Lucifer didn’t think much of it, answering absentmindedly, "Yeah, it’s her."

There was a pause, a brief silence that felt heavier than it should have. "I didn’t know you two exchanged numbers," Adam murmured, his voice dropping lower.

Lucifer shrugged, barely looking up from his phone. "We did at the concert. It’s not a big deal." He glanced at Adam, but his best friend’s face was hard to read, his green eyes focused on the television. Lucifer brushed it off and went back to his phone as another message from Lute came in.

"She wants to hang out Saturday night," Lucifer muttered, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. He was irritated that Lute was interrupting his time with Adam. This was supposed to be their night, and now it felt tainted.

Adam bit his lip, hesitating before speaking, his voice softer than before. "She hasn’t been responding to my texts lately."

Lucifer stilled. For a moment, his own jealousy evaporated, replaced by curiosity. "How long has she been ignoring you?"

Adam’s eyes flickered with something sadder, more vulnerable. He glanced away, the glow of the TV casting shadows across his face. "About a week now," he admitted quietly. "I asked her if she wanted to come to the bonfire tonight, but she left me on read."

Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight the smirk threatening to spread across his lips. It was working. Slowly but surely, Lute was slipping away from Adam. He should have been more focused on Adam’s sadness, should have cared about the hurt in his voice, but all Lucifer could think about was how close he was to winning. Soon, Lute would be out of their lives, and things would go back to normal. Just him and Adam. Like it had always been.

But Adam's next question caught him off guard. "Do you like her?" Adam asked, his voice suddenly serious, his eyes searching Lucifer’s face for something he wasn’t ready to give.

Lucifer blinked, confused. "Why are you asking me that?"

Adam was quiet for a long moment, his brow furrowing before he finally spoke. "What about Lilith?"

The name made Lucifer bristle instantly. He hated hearing it. Lilith didn’t matter anymore, hadn’t mattered for a long time. Why was Adam even bringing her up?

"What about her?" Lucifer snapped, clicking his tongue in frustration. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

Adam blinked, his expression tightening. "I thought you and her had... something."

Lucifer rolled his eyes, irritation prickling at his skin. "We don’t. Not really." He paused, adding quickly, "Lilith doesn’t even like any Omegas in town, Addie. You know that. She’s always been... complicated."

Adam flinched, catching the subtle undertone in Lucifer’s words.

“You know I wouldn’t ever considered something with her," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "Not after what happened between the two of you."

Lucifer smiled, pleased with the way Adam seemed to fold under his explanation. He snuggled closer, pressing his head against Adam’s chest, feeling the familiar comfort in the way they fit together.

“I know," he murmured, his voice soft, soothing. But Adam didn’t relax. His body was still tense, rigid, like something was wrong.

Lucifer frowned, sensing the change. "Are you feeling stiff?" he asked, his tone gentle. "I can give you a back massage if you want."

Before Adam could respond, Lucifer’s phone chimed again. This time, Adam’s voice was sharper, more pointed. "Is that Lute again?"

Lucifer’s patience snapped. "So what if it is?" he snapped, the frustration bubbling over. "What I have going on with Lute has nothing to do with you."

The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Adam’s face fell, the hurt so clear in his eyes it made Lucifer’s heart twist. Adam flinched as if he’d been struck, pulling away from Lucifer’s embrace, his warmth disappearing like a candle snuffed out.

"I guess you’re right, Lucifer," Adam said quietly, standing up. "It’s got nothing to do with me if you're... moving on."

Lucifer froze. Moving on?

He stared up at Adam, shocked and confused, until the weight of Adam’s words hit him. Adam had called him Lucifer—not Luci, not the familiar nickname he’d always used. Something between them had shifted, cracked, and Lucifer didn’t know how to fix it.

"Addie, wait—" Lucifer reached out, trying to grab his arm, to pull him back into the safety of their closeness. But Adam pulled away, his eyes hardening.

"Don’t come into my room tonight," Adam said firmly, his voice colder than Lucifer had ever heard it. "Or the next few nights. I need space."

Lucifer gawked, his chest tightening painfully.

“Space? Space from what?" His voice grew sharper, more defensive. "Because Lute likes me better? Is that it? You’re mad because she’s talking to me and not you? You’re being so childish, Adam!"

Adam’s face twisted with frustration, his lips parting in an angry retort.

“I don’t want you in my room until I say you can come back!" he snapped, his green eyes blazing with a hurt that made Lucifer’s heart squeeze.

Lucifer growled in frustration, baring his teeth as the heat of the argument rose between them. "What do you want from me, Adam? Should I stop talking to Lute? Would that make you feel better?"

Adam flinched at the question, the pain in his eyes intensifying.

“No," he whispered, shaking his head. "I don’t want that."

Before Lucifer could say anything else, before he could figure out how to fix the growing distance between them, Adam turned and walked into his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The finality of the sound echoed through the room like a death knell, but what broke Lucifer was the sharp, unmistakable click of the lock turning.

For a moment, Lucifer just stood there, staring at the closed door, his heart aching. His phone buzzed again in his hand, pulling him from his thoughts. It was Lute.

Hey, you free tonight? I wanted to ask you something.

Lucifer stared at the message, his mind racing. He could feel everything slipping through his fingers—Adam’s warmth, their closeness, the safety he had always taken for granted. And now, Lute, ready to pull him away even further.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he finally texted back, The bonfire ritual is tonight. Wanna come?

Lute’s response was instant: Fuck yeah!

[enigmaticexplorer]

Let Me Love You - Part I

Masterlist | Next Part

General Summary. An opportunity to expand your grandmother’s business brings you to Coruscant and a chance-encounter with Commander Fox. Friendship is your intent. But feelings grow, and with them, renewed fears. 

Pairing. Commander Fox x female!reader

General Warnings. Self-esteem issues; intimacy issues; trust issues; explicit sexual content. 

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Word Count. 2.4K

A/N. Happy Kinktober! My kink is the hyper-independent FMC who’s convinced she’s incapable of being loved, and the confidently-patient MMC resolved to prove her wrong.

Also, this story wouldn't exist without @/dystopicjumpsuit's In the Matter of Marshal Commander Fox vs. the Stocking Kink, the Court Finds the Defendant Filthy. There is zero correlation between the two, but DJ's one-shot reminded me how much I love Fox. And thus, this story was born.

A Like without a Reblog will result in an automatic block.

9 Yelona, Zhellday

Autumn on Coruscant elapsed like the other seasons of the year—controlled temperature, heavy traffic, and malodorously polluted air. The environment was a stark contrast to your home planet, Lefaepa. 

With its fields of amber, and its hills of autumnal red, and its valleys speckled with clumps of asters and sunflowers, Lefaepa was the planet to visit for the annual Harvest Festival. 

It was a tradition that dated back ten thousand years. Month-long festivities concluded on the 35th when everyone gathered in their local towns and shared the reaping of their harvest. 

The communal and unevolved technological aspects of Lefaepan culture set it and its neighboring systems apart from the rest of the galaxy. “Backwater,” they were called. “Archaic.” 

But the Lefaepans didn’t care. They were so far removed from galactic societal expectations and dictations that the opinions of those located billions of kilometers away hardly mattered. What do the people who live in cages know? they laughed among themselves.

You missed it—your home, the silence at night, the fresh air with its honeysuckle breeze. 

Since you first arrived on Coruscant two years ago, you’ve returned home twice for the Harvest Festival. Your parents appreciated the extra help on the farm, and you enjoyed the pitchers of apple cider, the twangy music, and the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables. 

This year, however, you were missing the festivities. An argument with your mother left you too raw to visit home. No matter how much your heart longed for the stars and your soul yearned for the quiet of those red hills, your pride kept you away. Your mother had gone too far this time. 

Her constant pressure to settle for the first man who gave you attention—her constant remarks that you weren’t “getting younger”—had coalesced into a resentment unbreakable. Even now, three weeks after your argument, a bitter taste filled your mouth. Ire clenched in your jaw. 

Was it not enough that you had performed well in university? 

Was it not enough that you had expanded your grandmother’s business?

Were you not enough on your own?

Conflicting thoughts clashed within your mind, a war raging. 

Swords clanging—an adamant acceptance of your independence. 

Cannons blasting—a defiant roar against your mother’s comments and interferences. 

Arrows piercing armor—a desperate, silent plea for someone to see you, to believe you were enough to be loved.

Over time, many battles were fought. 

For weeks, the armies fell quiet, re-strategizing, allowing you a moment of peace. And then they surged forth, a surprise attack spurred by your mother or your insecurities or—

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

The voice plucked you from your spinning thoughts and you recoiled, looking up from the thin coin you were cleaning. Weaving his way through the glass cases of artifacts strolled a man in red armor: helmet tucked beneath an arm, curly hair close-cropped, groomed stubble faintly shadowing his jaw.

A member of the Corrie Guard. You were familiar with them. 

After the Clone War ended two years ago, the Jedi uncovering and preventing a massive scheme to destroy the Republic, the Grand Army of the Republic was restructured. A tentative peace encompassed the galaxy. There was no longer a need for full battalions of soldiers. 

Pension plans passed, many soldiers retired. Some remained, though. Some, like the Corrie Guard, who were organized into an internal defensive bureau—the Department of Security—dedicated to protecting the New Republic from terrorist cells. Cells that were keen for chaos and anarchy.

So, the Guard’s random visit to your gallery was surprising.

“Can I help you?”

The Guard approached your counter—where you conducted all final transactions—with an aplomb that clued you into the seriousness of the situation.

“Are you the owner of the gallery?” At your nod, the Guard extended a gloved hand. “I’m Commander Fox.” The handshake was firm and brief. Matter-of-fact, just like the commander’s tone. “Yesterday, two Weequays were spotted on a public cam just outside this gallery. They were wearing black cowls and dressed in dark clothing. Do you know anything about them?”

The description, while slightly vague, was familiar. Your eyes narrowed. “They came inside and looked around a bit.”

The commander maintained eye contact with a calculation that made you tense. “For how long?” 

“Maybe five minutes.” You rounded the counter and motioned for the commander to follow you. A couple paces led you toward an unseemly case in a corner near the locked door that led to the backroom. “They spent most of that time looking at this: the Sword of Skander.”

Commander Fox peered into the case, eyeing the ancient sword inside. “What’s its story?”

“The sword belonged to Emperor Skander of the Meso civilization that existed ten thousand years ago,” you said with a cool, blasé inflection born from years working in this field. “When he assumed emperorship, his empire was close to collapse. To fight off his greatest enemy, he went to a sorcerer-type people and begged for an undefeatable weapon. They gave him this sword.”

“Undefeatable?” The commander raised his gaze to yours. A white scar cut across his chin. “It’s a sword.”

You offered him a bland smile. “The metal of the blade is unique. It no longer exists. It’s either been depleted so much it’s undiscoverable or it’s been hidden.” 

Commander Fox observed the sword with an unreadable expression. “And yet the metal in the sword remains.”

“The sword is protected by both cultural heritage laws and general artifact preservation laws,” you explained. “It was given to my grandmother forty years ago by a local community with ties to the Meso empire. One of their children was playing in a random cave when she found the sword. The locals recognized it from their legend. They wanted to protect it. So they asked my grandmother to safeguard it from those who would test the metal and replicate it.”

The commander ran a thumb along his lower lip. “Did the Weequay ask you any questions about it?”

“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “When I asked if I could help them, they left.”

“What’s so special about a rare metal?” Commander Fox mused aloud. At your silence, he pinned you with a hard look. “You know something.”

You hesitated. When you inherited the gallery, you had promised your grandmother to protect the sword’s secret capability. A capability that would earn the interest of different parties, including terrorists. 

“Very few people know this,” you said quietly. The commander shifted forward. “The sword’s blade can cut through any material. Including beskar.” His eyes widened. “And its blade is imbibed with a quick-acting poison. One little scratch and you’ll be dead within a minute.”

“That makes it a dangerous weapon,” Commander Fox murmured. He surveyed the front windows. Stained glass. An assortment of colors. They shielded visitors from Coruscant’s environment, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of ancient times, transplanting visitors from the modern world into history. “In the wrong hands—”

“That’s why only a handful of people know the truth.” You gestured to the case’s peeling wood and scratches. “And why its appearance is so modest.”

The commander released a contemplative sound.

Unease pricked the back of your neck. “You think the Weequays may suspect its true origins.”

His demeanor was impassive. “If I asked you to move the sword to your backroom, would you?”

“Only if you answer my question.”

“You haven’t asked me a question.” The corner of his mouth curved at your annoyed eye roll. “But…I believe there’s merit to your suspicions.”

You gave a sharp nod. “There are cases in the back with strong security systems. I’ll move it into one of those.”

“Thank you.” Commander Fox adjusted the helmet beneath his elbow. “Do you have private cams set up?”

“I do.” You extended your head to the one behind him, well-hidden among lacy drapes. 

“Good.” He scanned the gallery, most likely searching for the others. “Can I get a copy of the last week’s footage?”

“The last week?” His nod was perfunctory. You pursed your lips. “I don’t have time right now—”

“I’ll return to tomorrow.” He glanced once more at the sword. “If that works with your schedule.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Commander Fox offered his hand and you accepted it. Again. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

10 Yelona, Benduday

“Commander Fox.” You greeted the man with a close-mouthed smile. “Give me a minute.”

The commander, with his helmet cradled in the crook of his arm, nodded. The patient apathy on his face hid his true thoughts as he appraised a glass case housing five clay tablets inscribed with an indecipherable language. Your radiocarbon tests dated them nearly one-hundred thousand years old.

“As promised,” you said to the elderly man opposite your counter. Removing the lid from the large, nondescript box, you beckoned the man to peer inside. Joy played on his withered mouth.  

“Your payment,” he said, brandishing a bank card, “as promised.”

A swipe of his card deposited the credits into your account. It would take no more than thirteen hours for the transfer to complete its process. 

With a wave at the elderly man, you turned your attention to Commander Fox. 

“As promised for you.” You slid a datafile across the counter. “The five days preceding the Weequays’ visit, and the day of.”

Commander Fox rested a hand atop the ‘file. Like yesterday, red armor accentuated by a white chest plate covered his body. A black kama encircled his waist; a white utility belt sat snuggly on his hips. He set his helmet atop the counter.

“You must make a lot of money to afford these pieces.”

“I don’t sell the artifacts,” you said. The commander straightened slightly at your terse tone. “A majority of them were gifted to me by my grandmother. The rest are on loan from museums or private collections.” Your arms crossed your chest. “Artifacts are meant to be admired, studied, and respected. I’m not in this trade to buy and sell rarities just for the ego of having lots of money.”

If he was bothered by your sharp response, he didn’t show it. “Then how do you make money?”

“Through appraisals and consulting, mostly.” You rested a hip against the counter. “Preserving certain artifacts is expensive. If you don’t know what you’re doing, it can be either dangerous or ruinous. Lots of people will pay a good amount of money for an expert to preserve their family heirlooms or treasures they’ve accumulated. And they’ll pay even more to store their collections. I also document and organize assets for clients.”

Commander Fox dipped his chin toward the front door. “And that man—what did you do for him?”

“A cleaning.” You shrugged at his bemused frown. “Inside that box was a stack of plates that have been in his family for eight generations. Each plate is painted with a unique decoration. The paint is hundreds of years old and frail. A regular cleaning wouldn’t suffice, so I handled it.”

“That’s a lot of work for…” The commander cut himself off.

“Junk?” you surmised. He offered an apologetic grimace. “It may be junk to you. But artifacts mean different things to different people. Not only are they a way to study history and cultural nuances, they also connect you with people you might have nothing in common with. They offer a new perspective.”

You gestured to an ornamental warrior’s mask hanging on the wall behind you. “This mask belongs to my oldest client. She’s lost mobility in her hands and her eyesight is waning. She asked me to store the mask for her granddaughter, who will inherit the heirloom on her twentieth birthday. It’s been in their family for nearly two thousand years.”

Commander Fox whistled lowly.

“That’s a lot of history stored within a single, material item.” You scanned his face. “But it’s not just about preserving that family’s history. The mask is symbolic—it represents the family’s drive and resilience in times of turmoil. It’s survived horrific times, and so can they.”

For several seconds, Commander Fox scrutinized the green-blue mask. 

“I…don’t have anything like that,” he said slowly, almost as if to himself. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “I’ve never been one for history. I prefer a quantitative approach to my work.” 

“Different methods of thinking,” you said. “But equally important to society.”

He levelled a shrewd look at you. “What does it mean to you?”

“I told you—”

“I don’t want a practiced answer.” He arched a brow. “Why do you care about this stuff?”

“It’s history.” Your eyes drifted across the gallery, perusing a set of dry scrolls, a painting of unfamiliar constellations, a set of vases detailing a primitive form of hunting. “Being around these things—holding them…it reminds me that my life is short and insignificant. History won’t remember me, so I might as well live my life how I want.”

For someone like you—someone who experienced the heavy, debilitating pressure of responsibility when making even the smallest of decisions—it was comforting. 

Commander Fox braced an elbow on the counter. “You don’t think you’ll be remembered?” 

“I’d rather be known than remembered.”

“A contradictory sentiment for someone in your industry.”

You conceded his point with a small smile. “There are people who leave a lasting impression on others. I’m not one of those people.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You left an impression on me.” 

A doubtful eyebrow quirked. “Is that so.” 

“You shared a secret with me.” The beginnings of a smirk ghosted his mouth. “One that only a handful of people in the galaxy know.”

A quiet laugh escaped, and you shook your head, amused. “I hope I don’t regret that decision.”

Commander Fox tapped a slow rhythm against the countertop. “Nah. You won’t.”

“I gave it some thought,” you said, while Commander Fox pocketed the datafile. His silence demanded an explanation. “A Guard investigating something is serious. I mean, you jurisdiction is terrorism.” Whatever vestiges of humor remained vanished. “Tell me, Commander, will my gallery be safe?”

“You’re concerned with the gallery?” At the incredulity in his voice, your eyes squinted in confusion. He searched your face. “Not your life?”

Your blank blink earned you a displeased frown. 

“They’re after the sword,” you said plainly. “If I don’t get in their way, I doubt anything will happen to me.”

Displeasure remained present in the scoured lines of his forehead but the commander didn’t press. Instead, he grabbed his helmet and gave you a final onceover. “I’ll be visiting every day for the foreseeable future. To keep tabs on things and to sweep the area.” 

Dark brown eyes—like the blackest of caf with just a dash of milk—held yours. He waited for your nod of acknowledgement and then turned on his heel.

“ ‘Til tomorrow,” he said in farewell.

Masterlist | Part II

A/N: This story exists because I wanted to see someone like me fall in love, and be loved. I wanted to know it’s a possibility for me.

[popcornforone]

Teacher Teaser

A Mr Ben Fan Fic

I always say to myself stop writing Mr Ben, but then i get an idea & bang there is no stopping me. So here we are again, with some naughty Mr Ben. Insipired by the gif I was sent below

Synopsis:- It the hottest day of the year & its to hot to do a thing… except Mr Ben has other ideas.

Word Count:-2200

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex (both) 69, teasing, swearing, alluding to other sex in the past & still to come. Established relationship. Use of Sir & slight dom vibes at points but Ben isn’t your teacher.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome, I hope you enjoy.

Yea that’s the gif that inspired it that I was sent.

It’s too hot to go outside today. You had to run to the shop to get some bits earlier, but by the time you got back to your apartment after a 30 minute trip you were sweeting buckets. So after you’ve but everything in the fridge you go & change into your white floral sundress. Your boobs are sweating too so you decide to remove your bra as well. The aircon hits you as you walk into the lounge. A nice breeze which makes you glad you have this. When your partner joked about buying an apartment that had this, you did think it wasn’t worth it. But now here in the blistering heat, you’re glad he insisted on it. He’s got the aircon on in the second bedroom which you’ve turned into an office as he marks some exams for the end of term. You slowly saunter through to the kitchen & get a long cold iced tea with plenty of ice & an apple to munch on & you make your way back to the lounge. Any chair is at your disposal, but the idea of lying across the sofa seems to be gripping your mind.

You grab your book from the side that you have to pack for when you both go on vacation in a few weeks. It’s too hot to do anything else, a few chapters of this while you wait for Ben to finish his work will be fine. You lie across 3 of the 4 seats on the sofa, your ice tea on the coffee table along with the apple & you see how long the first couple of chapters are.

“Yea I can do this” you say softly to yourself & start to read. You don’t put any music on you can hear some soft pop coming from Bens office which you like, it’s your playlist he’s actually got on, so you sit & read for a little while.

You’re really engrossed in the book that you don’t hear the door to the office open & Ben just stop & stare at you for a few minutes. He’s looking at your silky smooth legs, your knees rubbing as you read. He softly smiles & sighs looking at you being so carefree & relaxed. Your freshly painted blue toes shining on the grey sofa. He’s always loved to rub your feet. He always takes his time talking off your heels after a night out, kissing all the way up every time from your tip toes to your sex. Mumbling how soft your skin is as he goes. It makes you feel so good. He’s looking at the bottom of your feet unable to control himself. He slowly walks to the side of the sofa, kneels on the floor & slowly starts to rub & massage the balls of your feet. You gasp as the sensation & then your eyes widen as you look past your book.

“Ooooh ben”

“Total relaxation baby” he says as he works out the knots in your feet that you didn’t know were there. You bite your bottom lip looking at your man down the other end of the sofa. He’s smiling smugly. Those big brown eyes looking soft & seductive at the same time. “What you reading baby girl” he asks softly, your ankles now receiving a nice caress. When you tore your Achilles a few years ago Ben took extra care of your ankles at that point, that’s how this slow seduction from top to bottom started.

“Sharp Objects” you say, your voice already being effected by him as it turns breathy.

“Weren’t you saving that for our holiday?”

“Yea I was but it’s too hot to do anything at all today, so I thought I’d read a couple of chapters”

“& when you finish it on our trip?” He asks, his large hands now trailing up your shins.

“I’ll read one of the books you’ve got to read for term next year that you always take away with you to read but never get round to”

“I do read them”

“Well you start” you interrupt & pick up your iced tea. A few drops of condensation fall from the glass & hiss on your chest, evaporating in the heat even with the air con. He licks his own lips looking at how hot you are physically & how hot you are to him as you gulp your drink away. “But you never get it finished”

“How can I when you’re lying on a sun lounger next to me in a tiny bikini?” He says as he moves up the sofa. His hands now trail up your thighs. You shiver at such a sensual touch.

“Ben you need to stop”

“Make me” he’s blunt as his hand finds the Lace material of your thong. His eyes full of mischief as he pushes his thumb into the material & then your clit. You moan & almost drop the book, dampening your underwear instantly.

“Fuck ben”

“We will get there beautiful” & he slips a few finger inside your underwear. His precision with his small circles & motions have your thighs shaking, he only does it for about 30seconds but it’s all it takes for your hips to start moving & your legs to start going all unnecessary.

“Ohoooooohhhh”

“You like that beautiful?” You nod in reply then his hands go into your waist band & he peels the thong from your sex. The lace tracing down your thighs & legs. Your body wanting him. It’s not hard to want Ben, he is yours but right now the idea of sensual love making to occupy your afternoon on this hot summers day has you dampening even more. He doesn’t sniff your thong, he gently places on the coffee table next to the apple.

“An apple for your favourite teacher? “ he questions as he takes off his crisp white tshirt. His firm hairy chest makes your legs part instantly. You both know what’s coming. He tuts as he sees your entrance glistening. “Well I may not be your teacher, but I can always…” he hovers over your after he’s crawled onto the sofa.”… give you a lesson…” he then softly plants a kiss on your lips”…in oral” you suddenly feel two fingers slip inside your entrance.

“Fuck Ben”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sir”

“That’s more like it” he starts to pulse them, the friction against you has your thighs pushing together. He smirks before he gives you a much deeper kiss. One that is reserved for intimate moments, his lips taste of coffee & yours are so cold from the iced tea it has him hissing.

“Oooh beautiful” he slides back down towards your entrance & drops his head down. His prize all ready for him. “So ready” his nose rubs against your clit & the book that was in your hand is now dropped to the floor, no bookmark, you’ll have to start from the beginning again a when you get on holiday, not that you care at all right now.

“Mmmmmm” you moan & then pant as his talented tongue licks its first strip. His hands gripping your hips, your own hands want to push him down further but you know if you make it too intense now you’ll be cumming in seconds, & you’ve not worked out if this is just for your pleasure or if this is going to be an entire afternoon on sensual exploits.”yes Ben ooh yes” he then sucks a little too hard & you flinch. “Sorry oooh yes sir”

“Love it when you call me that” he says before he full on burrows his head in your thighs, greedily flicking his tongue in & out of you. His hand grip more & your own lift up your dress so that your hand can get underneath it grasping at your own tender sensitive breasts, desperate for this moment to never stop.

“Fuck, more Ben” you whine, your perfectly manicured nails teasing your nipples make you rhyth more as he gets to work. Ben then looks up & looks at the state of you.

“Fucking beautiful” he moans before going back to his tasting. One hand makes its way to your clit & that’s all it takes for you to move your own hands into his own crazy mop of hair. Pushing him down more. Making him moan with each suck of your succulents. The more he does that the more you move, squeezing his head between your thighs. It’s a never ending circle of pleasure between you both & it’s unlikely to stop.

“Fuck Ben I’m gonna cum” you just about manage to speak between the noises you’ve been making. Your blinking up at the ceiling before you groan his name, your world shattering as you explode in desire. He keeps licking, getting every drop on his mouth, your his sweetest honey.

“Fuck baby” he moans as he lifts his head up & wipes his chin. “That’s always a pleasure to drink from”

“Hmmm” you hum. “Do I get to taste you”

“Depends” he replies, a smug look on his face as he unzips his shorts. “Do you want to the ultimate taste sensation or do you just want some pleasure?” You know what this means. He wants to know if your up for an afternoon of love making which will start off with a very intimate & sensual 69 or if you are to hot & therefore he will just quickly fuck you to get his own release. He can see your eyes contemplating all the scenarios.

“Well Ben… I’ve got nowhere else to be today… or tomorrow” you lick your lips & wink. He smirks & the shorts & boxers come down in one motion as your sit up & slip your dress off. He crawls onto the sofa & shimmys so his head is looking up between your legs, looking up at the mess his mouth just made. He sighs before giving you a slight spank.

“Then let’s make the most of our time, sexy” you respond to his reply & you shimmy down him already moaning as he spreads your cheeks & starts to feast once again on your pussy. Pre cum around his angry head, dripping already as you spit in his length ready to endulge in his own delights.

“Take your time Ben this is going to be a long hot summers afternoon” you lick the tip & swallow what’s already been collected your hands working the shaft. A few more licks before you engulf all of his girth. He always says you have a big mouth with it comes to talking but for oral it has him whingeing at how he just about fits inside.

“Fuck sweetie” he groans before going back to his own tasty delights.

There your two bodies are. Linked together in passion. Every time you come up for air you groan. Your cunt fluttering away as he lick every inch of it inside & out. Your head bobs down to his balls, covering his penis in your saliva. He every now & then when he’s not squeezing or parting your arse cheeks sticks a finger or two inside either hole he desires & it has you spluttering all over him. Your body tensing up grinding your pussy down onto his face. You’re moving at a rhythm you would do for standard sex & you both pant.

“Fuck” Ben growls as he is unexpectedly covered from your climax. You just couldn’t hold on or give him a warning, he was also so lost in the haze of you hunkering down on him. Your licks become rapid. “I’m gonna cum baby I’m gonna fucking cum, shittt” he screamers. He gave you a few seconds of heads up & you were almost at the tip when hot ropes of his sees spill into your mouth. You choke & gag on it & his penis, as his hips judder beneath you. “Fuck baby oooh fuck” he whines as he calms down & you make sure you swallow every last drop of him.

After a few minutes when you both more relaxed you carefully get off the sofa & then get back on him as he is still laying down. You sit just above his lap, on his tummy, looking flustered but in a glow as you look down at Ben. He’s got a smile of mischief on his face.You reach your hand back behind you & start to stroke his length.

“Jesus, baby, I’m not a machine, especially not in this hot weather”

“It’s okay Ben, I just like to feel it all”

“Ooh I know you do” he sits up & pouts. You lean towards him to give him a tender kiss, your hand letting go of his length.

“It is maybe a bit too hot to have a drawn out session”

“Not it we do it properly” Ben replies & you raise an eyebrow. “I think we need to cool off” he says & then nods in the direction of the shower & starts to rub your inner thighs. “Do you want to join me sweetie”

“Hmmm, yea I guess I could do with a nice long shower with no interruptions”

“Baby the only thing that will stop us will be if we run out of water”

[atwoodsfemalefantasy]

master list of female bands/musicians that write + sing about feminism!

(i've been cutting the vast majority of male musicians out of my listening habits bc i want to support, uplift, and center women in my life. these are some great bands + artists if you're also looking to do that)

-Bikini Kill: Riot Grrrl band, frontwoman is Kathleen Hannah aka the love of my life. very angry, messy, garage girl punk. openly man hating.

-Banshee: banshee described her music as fairy metal. she does that heavy metal whisper-screaming on top of these fairy-like mystical melodies and instrumentals. has some very manhating songs, amazing female rage

-Beach Bunny: doesn't focus as much on feminism, but has a lot of feminist songs. hard to describe the genre, but kinda garage-punk/pop? highly recommend

-Bratmobile: another Riot Grrrl band! i love them!

-Delilah Bon: metal, scream-y, female rage. very good for releasing anger, very angry at men, so so powerful. my favorite song is Dead Men Don't Rape

-Dreamcatcher: this one is a bit different, it's my favorite Kpop group, but they're technically Krock. i like other Kpop groups, they have a lot of freedom. no one controls what they wear or sing or say, which a lot of popular Kpop groups are victims of. they speak out for what they believe in, queer rights mostly, and they also spoke up after George Floyd. they're big advocates against the fan hate female idols receive, and their latest releases have all been concept albums about fighting for equality against a corrupt government

-Fiona Apple: most people know about my girl Fiona, but she's amazing, and obviously needs to be included. songs about her rape, against male violence. very girlhood, like if you took all my girlhood emotions and put it into music

-Halsey: ik what you're thinking, i'm not talking about cursive singing Halsey. i'm talking her last two albums, If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power, and The Great Impersonator. specifically The Great Impersonator. Lonely is the Muse, Life of the Spider, Dog Years, Letter to God (1974), Arsonist, and I Believe in Magic are so fucking good it makes me scream.

-Kesha: (not Ke$ha, i'm saying Kesha after she got away from her rapist at her label). she has a lot of songs about her rapist, angry songs, healing songs, etc. honestly, she's one of the strongest female celebrities i know, the way she bounced back, found herself, and healed.

-Le Tigre: another Kathleen Hannah band, more upbeat than Bikini Kill, still angry, but more upbeat. takes stands for feminism + black rights.

-Maggie Lindemann: not as feminist, but a strong woman with a strong voice singing powerful songs about her mental health, healing, and finding herself

-Marina: used to be Marina and the Diamonds, her old stuff is sooo good, and her new stuff is very outspoken and feminist. i love her.

-Mitski: strong female voice + strong female words. angry, sad, everything. i adore her.

-Scene Queen: metal/scene genre. her goal as an artist is to make spaces in scene where women are safe and centered and prioritized because scene is a pretty misogynistic culture right now. she sings about hating men, not feeling safe, amazing female rage. also very very gay.

-Sofia Isella: very powerful female vocalist, sings about feminism, fantastic female rage songs. very creepy sound as well

obviously there's a million more i'm forgetting, but here's a start, a pretty decent list

[your-nanas-house]

Thanks to photography

◇ Pairing: Greg Nolan X model!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, grinding, game, blowjob, photos, bad writing

◇ Summary: Greg goes carried away during a photoshoot.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is for my dear @sissylittlefeather 🙇🏼‍♀️❤️

Y/n's action left Greg breathless again as she sat down on his lower tummy, her ass nearly brushing against his pelvis getting a reaction out of the man.

It was clear the way he looked at her... full of admiration and with a playful touch given by the tiny smirk glued to his handsome face.

A smile that caused Y/n's body to warm up, even if she wasn't such a shy person because of her job... it happened to her more than once to pose naked for photographers but it was the first time she felt something between them.

A chemistry and a tension that shouldn't have been touched.

"Anything else?" Her soft voice asked as her eyes roamed all over his body, stopping again at his face while she waited patiently... smirking slightly as soon as he replied.

Greg shook his head softly as his stunned self didn't allowed him to speak or register immediately what she was asking. Making him only stare at her to drink in every little part of what she was offering him.

It was perfect... the moment was perfect, her body as well. And the only thing that he wanted to change was the position that they were in. So with that he finally broke the silence with his low voice

"How about changing a little position?" He asked her as his thumbs rubbed soft circles on her hips, making her bite eagerly her lower lip and reply with a simple quick nod.

Greg looked Y/n in the eyes with a bit of hesitation as he gathered the courage he need to finally speak, hiding his arousal with a poker face

"How about you lay down on top of me?" He suggested casually as he played a bit with his camera, gulping as soon as the young woman lay slowly on top of him just like he craved.

The simple action instantly setting a fire inside of the photographer, his Adam's apple bobbing again, as he looked at her in that new position.

He could feel the way her body pressed down against his and it felt so damn good that he nearly stuttered out his words "Now can you pose and sway in your seductive moves, the way you did before?" He required.

Y/n started to slowly sway her hips back and forth just like she did when he asked her earlier to dance sensually for a couple of pictures he had to take.

It felt stupid as she did it, simply dancing without music or anything... just a camera pointed at her. But now it made her aroused, her hips were swaying the same way... this time leaded by the soft music of his heavy breaths.

He even had to swallow a moan since he found it extremely hard to take his eyes off her.

The way her body kept moving in each direction was very seductive and slow, and even if she wasn't doing anything extremely provocative it still looked very appealing to him... making his thoughts run wild.

Her body fitted very well on top of his, he thought as he allowed his hand to help her lower half press harder against his.

As Greg got lost in his lust just like his body which started to move on its own— meeting the soft sways with his own to create some kind of innocent friction his aching boner craved— Y/n's voice made him come back to reality.

"No photo?" She asked teasingly, not doing anything to stop his actions, enjoying herself every moment of it... opting to mock him lovingly since they should have taken care of the photoshoot instead of that.

Greg chuckled at her tone and slowly but gently whispered back his reply while controlling as best as he could his breath and groans

"I want to enjoy this moment a little bit more... I want to drink in your beauty before I take the next photos" the handsome man murmured against the skin of her cheek as he enjoyed every minute.

At the feeling of the little smile on her skin Y/n giggled back, her eyes fluttering shut as she met his thrusts less casually... her head nodding softly as she hummed back an answer

"You are the artist— I follow your wind" And with that she unlocked his racing thoughts again, making the man tilt his head up when he pressed harder his erection against her hips.

"Then you don't mind if I make another request, right?" Greg asked breathless, smiling at the teasing tone she used earlier while his hands traveled down to her waist to keep a hold on them. Pulling her in a little closer to him.

"Can you just sway those hips of yours a little bit faster? Maybe this time, it can be a little bit too provocative for the eyes to handle" he joked while doing a serious request, biting his plumpy bottom lip when she obeyed, taking the lead.

"Fuck— Bit faster, please" Greg cursed softly, taking a handful of her ass in a poor attempt to make her increase the speed of the grinding.

His heart raced, beating in his ears as his body began to sweat because of the feelings and actions.

"So damn good, Darling" the man added breathless, cursing softly as his back arched while Y/n's skilful and rough movements nearly leaded him to his peak.

"I start to think this isn't for the photoshoot anymore" the young woman joked, her heart racing at the view of him under her... her cheeks flushed due to the heat that had created between their bodies.

Greg knew that it was true but he was actually enjoying this moment as well... reaching his climax slowly as she kept swaying her hips in such a sublime way

"Yeah... It's not for the photos but still.. can you just sway those hips a little bit more?— Maybe you can do more than just swaying your hips" he whispered before biting hard on his bottom lip again, jolts of pleasure invading his body till she stopped abruptly, moving away from that lying position.

His light eyes fluttered open but quickly closed shut as a groan left his throat at the new sensation caused by her hands on his now bare cock.

When he agreed to that job he wasn't expecting to end in such a situation, being now deep throated by a beautiful and hot model that wasn't just good at her job but also at using her hands and mouth.

Her tongue swirled around his tip as her hands worked on his balls, switching after a while so that her hand was on his hard length... pumping it in a delicious pace while her lips wrapped around his testicle, sucking and licking softly.

Greg could feel his orgasm approach, just like her.. due to his loud groans and spasms of his body.

"Fuck, sweetheart" he cursed sweetly, his hand grabbed her head so that he could lead the tempo and fuck her face till he emptied his balls inside of her warm mouth.

Watching her swallow his seed before cleaning her mouth and reach for his camera to take a photo of him with an amused smile.

"Bet you would be an awesome model as well".

[mmyrrhh]

Eyes on the road

Summary: A car ride with your favourite lieutenant.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 648

Notes:

Fluff

Mr. Riley strikes me as the kind of person who will listen to country music while driving and tapping the steering wheel rhythmically in the process.

My sideblog got shadowbanned so I’ll be posting my fics here until the issue gets resolved (if it gets resolved).

————————————————————————

You’ve been driving for two hours straight, and the silence between you grows longer as the miles pass. Despite your efforts to engage him in conversation, he appears content to remain silent, responding only with brief, cryptic remarks.

“Where are we going?”

“That’s confidential information.”

“How long until we arrive?”

“We’ll get there when we get there.”

Touché.

He was deep in thought, with his right hand steady on the steering wheel and his left arm resting casually on the open window. He had an air of confidence about him, seemingly able to take control of anything that life may throw his way; missions, injuries, cars, you. Oh boy, the power he has over you.

Every time he had to shift gears, he did with such poise and grace, releasing the wheel but securing it with his thigh so it wouldn’t drift away. You watched him every time he did that, anticipating the moment he’d place his hand on you instead.

His mask obscures his face, but you know there is concealed road rage lurking beneath. Now and then, a reckless driver would surpass you, and he would mutter a curse under his breath as his gaze followed the car. Other times, he would instinctively put his hand in front of you, inches away from your chest, acting as a human seatbelt.

Inches away...

The scenery is, well, nothing: an endless expanse of dirt, as far as the eye can see. And with the quiet between you, the boredom begins to set in. You figured a little music would lighten up the mood, maybe even spark a discussion of some sorts. You turn on the radio, shuffling through the stations until you find one that works. You turn up the volume and turn your attention back on the road. Ghost doesn’t comment on your action but has a lot to say about your taste in music.

“It’s shite,” he mutters under his mask.

“It’s the only one that works,” you comment back.

“It’s still sh*t,” he repeats.

“We don’t have any other option, Lieutenant.”

“There’s always another option, soldier,” he explains. “In this case, you could always turn it off.”

Is this an order or a suggestion? Better go with the safe option. You move your hand towards the radio button, but he catches it mid-air, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Don’t; let it play if you like it,” he whispers, his eyes still focused on the road, “my preferences should never dictate yours.”

In that moment of unexpected kindness, you turn to look at him.

You become immediately drawn to his profile and begin to examine any characteristic you can distinguish beneath his balaclava.

His brows appear sparse and washed out; is that genetic or permanent damage from a fire? His dark brown eyes are half-closed, emitting a sense of melancholy; that, or he’s tired from all the driving. He suddenly lets out an audible sigh. Your eyes travel to his lips; you can distinguish a faint outline through the stretched fabric. His Adam’s apple moves with vigour every time he swallows. His collarbone, chest, arms, abd-

“Eyes on the road,” he commands. Shit; caught red-handed once again.

You lightly cough in embarrassment and obey. Neither of you speaks.

As you continue driving down the road, he suddenly takes his hand off the wheel and goes straight for the volume button, turning it up.

You turn to look at him in confusion.

“It’s Johnny Cash,” he explains, shrugging.

“Johnny Cash, huh? Any relation to… John Price?” you quip, trying to lighten the mood.

“You and your fucking jokes,” he says with a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

And with that, the silence between you settles once more. But this time, it’s no longer oppressive, no longer boring. It’s a comfortable silence, with Johnny Cash speaking volumes about you and your lieutenant’s silent bond.

————————————————————————