#I just wish i knew what to do to make it better

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

[amaramizuki666]

I have been pulled from the depths of my hibernation by this post. And now y'all should know my drill. I'm making this DP x DC baby.

Anyway

_________

Tim opened his door to see what looked to be a underweight preteen. The boy looked to be the personification of a wet cat. "Do you need something kid?" Tim's asks and leans aginst the door frame. Tim raked his eyes across the kid, he had ice blue eyes and black hair 'he looks like adoption bait'.

"I know what you are" the kid says. Tim raises a brow 'is this kid with the paparazzi or something?'. Tim tilts his head and tired smile on his lips "oh, Do you now?".

The kid with an all to serious expression lifts up a photo... of him.... as Red Robin climbing into his apartments window 'well fuck'.

Tim grabbed the kid by the wrist and pulled him into his apartment "so what do you want?" Tim asks cearfully, grabbing his coffee mug and nursing it as he stared the kid down.

Tim dosnt want to come off as threatening, but he won't just let the bratt expose him. "So you are Red Robin?" The kid says, not in a way that makes him seem unsure of himself, but like in the way he wants to hear it from Tim's lips.

"You can't prove it" Tim says calmly sipping his coffee. Tim knows he basically just conformed it, but he could tell the kid already knew.

The little shit gave Tim a wide smirk and pulled a manila folder, out of... somewhere? And hands it to him. Tim takes it, sets down his coffee, and opens it. Inside are a few dozen pictures of Tim, some were his mask is off while he is still in suite.

"Ok you got me, so what do you want?" Tim says slightly impressed, he is getting flashbacks to his younger years of chasing Batman and Robin with his camera.

"I'm going to be your sidekick" The kid says firmly. Tim's jaw drops. It feels like he is blue-screening. 'Is this how Bruce felt?' "Ok" The word left Tim's lips before he even relized.

The kid stuck out his hand "it's a pleasure doing business with you, I'm danny". 'You know what fuck it, this is my kid now' Tim smirked tiredly, taking Danny's hand (his ice cold hand) in a firmly grip "Guess we need to pick out a name for your then".

Danny's grin grows showing too many teeth "i already have one, is go by Phantom"

--------------------

I also think this would be hilarious if danny is actually older than Tim but is stuck as a sad meow meow because he stopped aging after he died, and ge saw Red Robin, practically on his own and most of the support he was receiving was from other teens, and deciding, no, no kid should be without adult support.

Danny wished he had someone to watch his Back besides his freinds and sister, sure they helped a lot, but he feels he would have been better off with an adult mentor (shut up vald you were never his mentor, just a creepy fruitloop).

And if Red Robin thinks he's a kid, all the better, it should make him less reckless if he thinks he has a kid to watch out for.

[midnightmah07]

"A celebration? Really? Why, aren't you so kind. Thank you, I'll make sure to enjoy myself today."

Voice lines under the cut! • template (warning: I edited a few parts to make it look like my character's RSA dorm)

📚: well, birthday or not there's still a ton of work to do! ... although I guess it wouldn't hurt to relax a tiny bit. Just for today.

📚: my most prized possession? Well, those'd be my books! See, lately I've been reading this wonderful one about a bean stock and an ogre and— ah! S-sorry, I'm rambling too much...

📚: Leona actually gave me something besides a simple "happy birthday" message this year, can you believe it? It's a crochet book cover, he said he got it online... It is really beautiful.

📚: Did you know? Me and my mom used to share a birthday. She used to say I was her birthday gift haha! Oh, how I miss her.

📚: birthdays back home were a mix of emotions to say the least... My sisters and I were never too close so that was always awkward... But my dad always made everything better.

📚: is that— no way, you got a big pudding instead of a cake? Ahahah, why thank you! That's actually really funny, but very creative!

📚: Adeline gave me a really beautiful bouquet of flowers, I'm sure my room will smell even nicer in no time!

📚: I usually like to keep my hair in a bun when I go to sleep. Once I tried using some curlers but it looked weird... My hair is more wavy than curly so... It looked a tad bit strange.

📚: my nightgown? Ah, do you like it? I love sleeping in it, it's rather comfortable! Most women in my country tend to sleep in similar nightgowns.

📚: *yawn* ...hm? Sorry, what was that? I'm still a bit out of it, I slept too late last night... Ah, i-it totally has nothing to do with the new book I've got!!

📚: skincare? Hm... I would like to try it sometime but for now I just use a moisturizer. I care about my appearance, yes, but I've never really paid much mind to my skin in this way.

📚: Poppy gave me a crochet lion plushie... With a scar on his eye. *Sigh* is this to make fun of me or something?

📚: "If you poke Isabelle's dimples you'll have luck for 10 years...?" What sort of rumour is that? Hahah! Oh, goodness... Well, if you want to try, you're welcome to.

📚: what's this old looking note...? Oh, it's from Malleus! It's a happy birthday wish, how thoughtful. I had no idea he knew my birthday though... Is this Adeline's doing?

📚: what a delightful day this has been, and all thanks to everyone here. Thank you very much.

Duo magic:

Isabelle: Thanks for the party, Adeline.

Adeline: Happy birthday, housewarden!

[cosmicdahlias]

Monthly Chivalry

Ford Pines x Reader

MINORS DNI

Your time of the month has hit you like a truck. Ford proposes an idea to alleviate your pain.

tags: blood, praise kink, period oral, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, period sex, p in v, creampie

i asked if y’all wanted a period sex fic and got an overwhelming yes of 44 notes. i’ve always been into the concept of period sex and i had no idea so many of y’all are too. we really all freaks up in this bitch.

You lay in bed with your boyfriend and research partner, Ford, his bare chest pressed against your back and his arm wrapped around you. You scrolled on your phone with a heating pad on your stomach, unable to sleep. You were once again struck with the monthly “gift” from mother nature.

Ever since you first started having periods you were always afflicted with cramps that left you in unbearable pain. Ibuprofen helped somewhat, but the discomfort was still significant. You curled in a fetal position as you felt a cramp throb in your stomach.

“Oh dear, is it getting bad again?” Ford asked.

You nodded and he slipped a six fingered hand under your heating pad to your stomach.

“I hate seeing you like this every month. Is there anything I can do to help? I could make a pot of herbal tea if you’d like.” He offered.

“No, it’s okay. If the heating pad is barely doing anything, I doubt tea will do me much good.”

“My poor stardust, I just wish I could take away your pain someho-“

He stopped, an idea forming. You rolled over and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Well, there is… something we could try. I’ve read that sex during menstruation can actually be quite beneficial. The contractions from an orgasm cause the uterus to relax, which is incredibly effective at alleviating cramps. Furthermore, increased circulation causes clitoral and vaginal sensitivity during this time of the month which can intensify orgasms. Would you be willing to give it a shot?”

You had to admit, your period did always dramatically increase your sex drive and something about him being open to try what most men would never even consider doing was incredibly arousing. That and with your pain you were more than on board. You put a hand to his chest.

“Let’s do it.” You said enthusiastically.

“Very good. Let me go fetch a towel.”

Ford left the room and returned with a towel, setting it on the bedside table. He got on top of you, kissing you and lifting your shirt, taking in the sight of your chest.

“Goodness, I love how your breasts get larger during your cycle.”

He took one in his hand and stroked your nipple with his thumb, making you moan softly.

“They also get more sensitive.” You purred.

“Mmm, I can tell.” He whispered.

Ford lifted your hips, placing the towel underneath you, and slipping your pajama pants and panties off of you. He lowered himself down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and edging dangerously close to your pussy.

“Oh Ford, you’re not gonna-“

“Do you not want me to?”

“N- no I don’t mind it in theory, I just… don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I appreciate your concern, but have you considered that I want to do this? To taste you? May I?”

You turned deep scarlet, suddenly remembering Ford’s journal entry on giant vampire bats. Him craving blood “more than usual” after being bitten by one, which when his nephew shone a blacklight on the entry revealed it to be nothing more than a fruit bat, a detail Ford curiously left out of his story when he recounted it before you two became a couple. There was also the scratched out phrase “human blood tastes better”. You knew Ford had some kinks that were… out there to say the least, so this really shouldn’t have been a surprise to you.

You nodded.

“Good girl.” He said.

He dragged his tongue up your pussy to your clit.

“My god, you taste so good like this.” He moaned against you.

“Do I really?”

“Yes, it’s intoxicating.”

Ford sucked your clit, rolling it with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. He slipped his fingers in your pussy, curling them at your g-spot. The increased sensitivity was definitely a thing, it wouldn’t take much longer for him to make you cum. You bucked yourself against him, tightening around is fingers, you were close.

“That’s it, let yourself cum on my tongue.” Ford cooed.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, cumming on his face with a loud moan. He didn’t let up, keeping at the same pace of both fingers and tongue. He coaxed a second orgasm, then a third. He finally stopped at six, leaving you an overwhelmed, shaking mess.

“Ohhhhhhh goddddd, Ford. You’re gonna kill meeeee.” You groaned.

“Sorry, stardust. The whole point of this was to relieve your pain and I just wanted to be thorough.”

He pulled out his fingers, licking them, then looked up at you. Blood covered the bottom half of his face.

You gave a weak laugh. “Ford, your face.”

“What? Oh!”

Ford wiped his mouth and chin clean with the edge of the towel. He moved himself to sit next to you, taking your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“How do you feel now? Better?” He whispered.

He leaned down to kiss you and you gave yourself a second to assess your pain. It was still there, but you had to admit he’d made a difference.

“I think so.”

“Good. Now, I could stop here, but do you want to continue?”

“I think such chivalry deserves to be rewarded.”

“Good girl. I’ve wanted to know for so long what being inside you during your time of the month feels like.”

Ford got off the bed and slipped his flannel pajama pants and boxers down his legs. He was already so hard for you, his cock twitching and leaking more precum than you’d ever seen from him before. You made a mental note to probe him for more of his kinks in the future if it meant working him up like this.

He returned to the bed, getting on top of you and angling his cock at your entrance. He slowly slipped inside you, immediately giving an insanely loud moan.

“D- dear Moses. You’re always so wet for me, but this is incredible. You feel so perfect.”

Ford began to thrust into you. Christ, he felt even better than usual.

“Holy fuuuuck, you weren’t kidding about the increased sensitivity.” You whimpered.

“I’m glad this is as pleasurable for you as it is for me, princess.”

You moved your hips back on him.

“Oh god, I swear you’re tighter. You’re practically constricting me.” Ford moaned.

“Sounds like we need to do this more often.”

“That we do.”

Ford picked up his pace, the wet sounds of your pussy increasing in volume.

“Oh my GOD, do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are like this?” Ford asked.

He pulled out momentarily, sitting up on his knees and dragging you by your hips onto the tip of his cock. He threw your legs over his shoulders, slamming every inch inside you as you cried out in a deafening moan.

“God, I know you love this position, the way it allows me to go even- mmn, fuck- deeper. I’m not making your cramps worse am I?” Ford asked.

“No.”

“No? How does it feel then? And make sure to use your words, stardust.”

He slipped his fingers between your thighs, stroking your already beyond sensitive clit and moving his hips at a breakneck speed. He did this with the intention of overstimulating you, a game he played often to watch you struggle to answer him coherently.

“Nnnhh, I- I c- can’t. N- not f- fair.” You whimpered.

Ford smirked.

“I know, I’m the worst. I just love seeing you writhe underneath me.” He teased.

His breathing became heavy, his fast pace turning sloppy.

“I’m close, where do you want it, stardust?” He asked.

“I- In me, p- please.” You begged.

“God, you’re so good for me. Are you going to cum with me?”

You nodded.

“That’s my girl.”

Ford managed a few more thrusts before you came undone on his cock. The sensation of you pulsing around him caused him to give a moan and dig his nails into your calf, burying his entire length and cumming hot thick ropes deep inside you.

Words failed him for a moment, the only sounds being heavy breathing from the two of you before he finally spoke.

“H- how are you feeling? Good?” He panted, still attempting to catch his breath.

You nodded, incredibly overstimulated and unable to form a real sentence.

“I’m glad.” He said.

Ford pulled out and the both of you looked down. Blood coated not only his cock, but his and your thighs. Thankfully the towel prevented anything from staining the sheets. Ford gave a chuckle.

“Looks like we made more of a more of a mess than I had anticipated. How about I run hot bath to clean us up?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“Stanford Pines, a gentleman as always. Sounds perfect.”

[ghsface]

Not sure if you are taking request but can we get an angst with Matt where like reader and him are dating for years but recently comments have been getting to her or people have been following her home and eventually she decideds to break up with Matt but Matt takes things to in his hands where he’s tells ppl to stop and they get back together?(Lol sorry if it didn’t make sense but thank you)

𝜗𝜚 new messege .ᐟ.ᐟ

Hey gorgeous, I really liked this idea, I hope you like it too.

You are the only thing I want - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You and Matt had a secret relationship and when you decide to make it public everything goes wrong...

Warnings: angst hate messages towards reader, this is just angst with a happy ending

A/n: Leave me ideas to write in my inbox because I'm running out of ideas. I'm sorry if something is misspelled or not understood. My first language is not English. By the way, what do you think of my new theme, in my opinion, it's very cute like the baby pink and light brown. 🩷🧸

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It had been exactly fourteen months since the first time you and Matt kissed. You hadn't imagined then how important he would become in your life, nor that being with him would be so complicated. Because, although you adored each other and the bond between you grew every day, that relationship had to be kept secret. It was a mutual decision, made for practical reasons. At first, the thrill of secrecy made everything more exciting. But now, you both felt exhausted.

You had spent too many nights talking secretly in the car, dates arranged down to the last detail so as not to be seen, or moments of solitude where, instead of shouting to the world how much you loved each other, you had to hide it like a forbidden secret. The situation was starting to weigh on you.

That night, you were on the couch at Matt's house. He was holding you, and your head was resting on his shoulder while you felt his fingers playing with the strands of your hair.

"Aren't you tired of this?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him, searching his eyes for what he really wanted to say.

"What are you talking about?"

"About having to hide… about not being able to tell anyone how amazing you are." Matt smiled, but his eyes reflected a sadness that you shared.

"Of course I'm tired. Sometimes I wish we could be a normal couple".

"Then let's do it", he suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. "Let's make it public. I don't care what others say. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."

The idea made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The love you had for Matt was bigger than any fear, and the fact that he was willing to share your relationship with his fans made you feel special. You decided to announce it on social media.

When Matt uploaded the first photo of the two of you together, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The image showed an intimate moment, a selfie of the two smiling on the beach, with the sunset in the background. The caption was simple but powerful: “Over a year together, and we’re just getting started.”

For the first few hours, the response was overwhelmingly positive. There were comments from fans congratulating and supporting them: “They look beautiful together,” “Finally someone makes Matt happy as he deserves,�� “What a great couple they make!”

But over time, other types of messages began to appear. “Her? Is he really with her?”, “She’s not enough for him,” “She’s only with him for fame, I’m sure she’ll use him to become famous,” “Poor Matt, he deserves someone better.”

At first, you tried not to take them seriously. But every time you checked your phone, more of those comments appeared. There were people criticizing your appearance: “She’s too basic for someone like him,” “She’s not even pretty, how dare she date Matt?”, “Matt deserves someone more attractive.”

The words cut you deeply. You knew you shouldn’t let those comments affect you, but you couldn’t stop the doubts from starting to poison your mind. Every time you looked in the mirror, you started to see those flaws that others mentioned. Insecurity began to invade you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

Matt tried to comfort you whenever he noticed you looking down. Sometimes, during the night, he would catch you reading the comments on your phone, and he would simply take the phone away from you and hold you, whispering that he loved you and that was all that mattered.

“You don’t need to listen to those people, babe,” he said, looking at you with a sincere expression. “They don’t know anything about you, they don’t know how amazing you are.”

The comments didn’t stop, though. Every day they became crueler and crueler. Rumors began to circulate suggesting that you were only with Matt to gain followers, or that you were using his fame to make yourself known. People commented on every aspect of your life, from how you dressed to how you looked without makeup. There were those who said things like, “It’s obvious that she dresses like that to get attention, can’t she dress up better?” or “She should thank Matt for giving her a chance, she’s just an ordinary girl.”

At some point, comments were no longer the only thing. People started following you home, taking photos of you without your permission, and even trying to get close to you to ask you invasive questions. You felt watched and judged at every turn, and little by little, you started to believe that you weren't enough, that maybe all those people were right.

The pressure began to be unbearable. Your self-esteem plummeted, and every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who, according to the world, wasn’t enough. Matt tried to cheer you up, to remind you how much he loved you, but you couldn’t stand it anymore.

One night, after one of your most difficult conversations, you asked him to meet you. Matt came over to your house, and as soon as you saw him, he knew something was wrong. He stared at you in silence as you searched for the words to say to him.

“Matt… I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“What are you saying?” he asked, frowning, clearly worried.

“I can’t be in this relationship anymore. The pressure, the comments… they’re tearing me apart. I can’t take it anymore.

Matt looked at you, unable to process what you were saying. He was trying to understand, but the pain in your eyes made it clear to him that you were really hurt.

“But… I love you, and I don’t care what other people think. They don’t understand what we have.”

“I know, Matt. I know you love me, but I can’t go on like this. I’m losing myself in all of this.” It's getting harder and harder to get up and pretend everything is okay.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your tears. “Matt… I can’t keep going like this. I can’t handle the pressure, the comments, the people following me everywhere. I feel like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to drag you into this. I think… I think it’s best that we break up.”

The goodbye was hard and heartbreaking for both of us. In the days that followed, Matt stayed away from social media, not mentioning anything about what had happened. He isolated himself, trying to understand how the love of his life had to walk away because of the cruelty of others.

Weeks went by as you tried to get over the situation, even though you felt empty. However, one afternoon, while you were checking your social media, you noticed a post from Matt that surprised you.

It was a photo of you and him that Nick had taken, and the message was clear and direct: “I don't give a shit what others say about my girlfriend. I'm with her because I love her, and that's never going to change.”

Matt's public statement was not only a message to his fans, but a promise that he was willing to stand up for what they had. Feeling a torrent of emotions, you decided to call him. When he answered, his voice trembled with emotion.

"I can't go on without you" he said quietly, while you tried to hold back your tears.

"Me neither, Matt… I love you."

That night, they met again, and between tears and hugs, they knew that this time there would be nothing and no one that could separate.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

⤷ Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo

[the-lying-heavens]

"Pick One Moment"

[Spencer Reid x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: A rough case in Dayton, Ohio brings unexpected emotions to the surface for you, forcing you to confront feelings you'd been hiding for years—feelings for Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, moment of awkwardness

Word Count: 2.0k words

A/N: just based on the lyric 'And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you...I love you' from the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra because it's been stuck in my head. I've been planning to write Spence for a while but I've been intimidated.

Staying professional in Dayton, Ohio proved to be a challenge.

It had been a rough case, but what case wasn't, right? Just have to wrap this one up and you can go back to your house and dog.

Okay, fine, this wasn't like most cases at all, not to you anyway. This one had hit particularly close to home. And you didn't like that one bit.

This made you more short-tempered than usual, even snapping at a witness. After a lengthy lecture from Hotch, I mean from the look on his face you would think you had insulted him, he had 'benched' you by having you go through old files that might be related to the UnSub.

Hey, at least you got to do it with Spencer.

After working with him for so many years, you grew quite fond of him. Too fond maybe.

You stared at him going through files with a speed that should not have been human. 20,000 words at a minute, and you thought you were a fast reader.

"Got anything yet, Boy Genius?" you asked, flipping the page of your own file.

He looked up at you. God those eyes...

"No. This one isn't even related to it." he dropped the file on the table.

"Didn't you read the entire thing?"

"Yes," he replied, "It was interesting."

"You find everything interesting."

"Not true," he protested.

You rubbed your eyes, sighing. "Sure, Spence."

He tilted his head at you, a look of concern on his face. Adorable.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You considered lying, you had been doing that the entire time you had arrived in Dayton after all, but decided against it. "Not really."

"Is it about your family? I thought this case might bring up some bad memories."

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he had gotten it. "Yeah, something like that."

"Can I help?"

"Can you make memories go poof?"

He actually seemed to ponder it. "No. I'm not sure why you would want to."

"You never wish that you could just forget the bad stuff?" You knew what he had been through, you had seen quite a bit of it.

His brows furrowed. "I don't like the idea of forgetting anything. I mean, Mom forgets enough so I remember for her too."

You realized your mistake and winced. "Spence... God, sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you. "You're remembering a dark time in your life, it can be overwhelming. Also explains you snapping at the witness, with your nerves on edge."

"Yeah?" You grinned. "It was going to be Morgan but the asshole left before I could. So collateral damage."

He laughed. "He's outside if you want to insult him now. I don't want to be collateral damage too."

"You? Never."

"Never?"

"Never," you repeated.

Oh, how you loved his lopsided grins. "Thank you."

"Always." If you could pick one moment to live in forever, it probably would've been that one.

Minus JJ coming through the door right then. "We got something."

You wanted to throw a file at her. Instead, you get up with a heavy sigh. The sooner you get this done the better, you had to remember that.

~~~

The BAU was heading back to Washington tomorrow, so you could leave this far far behind. Finally. This case taking up two weeks of your life was enough.

You sat at a cafe next to the hotel where you were staying. It was a cozy little place with a mostly brown interior and warm lighting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air.

You sipped your drink, feeling the cup's warmth in your hands. You had been coming here for the past few days and you had to admit, you would miss this place.

Just then, the door opened, and in walked someone you recognized, glancing around the room before spotting you. With a smile, Spencer made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

You smiled back, gesturing to the seat. "Not at all."

He sat down and looked around. "So this is where you disappear to?"

You hummed in confirmation. "it's a nice place to think."

He stared at you for a while before nodding thoughtfully.

"What?" you sipped your coffee.

"Just... Are you feeling better?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, UnSubs behind bars. What more could I want?"

"Closure," he replied quietly.

You pressed your lips together tightly. "It's fine Spence. I'm alright with it."

"I don't think you are."

"Spencer," you said, a hint of warning in your voice, "You want to help, I get it. But not with this. Okay?"

It was an unspoken thing, the way Spencer always seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed someone to push just a little. He respected your boundaries, but there were moments—like this one—when his concern slipped through the cracks.

He sat across from you in that quiet cafe, watching you. You couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to speak or if he was just giving you the time to process, as he always did.

It had been a rough case, yes, but that wasn’t why you were still here, staring into your coffee like it held all the answers.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. He was still staring at you, quietly, as if he could see past your walls.

"Spence," you said, your voice quieter than you intended, "I’m fine. Really."

He didn’t respond immediately. His hand rested on the edge of the table, and you could see him fiddling with his fingers. That subtle nervousness he only ever seemed to show when he wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to say something.

"I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve seen you too many times to believe that everything’s okay, especially when it’s not. You’ve been holding it in, and I know that—"

"Spencer—" you started, but you were too late. He was already talking over you, his voice getting faster.

"Please. I just want to make sure you're alright, okay?" He sighed, his eyes briefly darting away before looking back at you. “I just... I care about you."

Everything felt very... loud. Too loud.

He looked at you expectantly, almost uncertain. Maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to make the first move.

You cleared your throat. God, you really hated moments like this, when everything inside you seemed to tremble at the prospect of just being honest.

His hand shifted on the table, and before you could stop it, you had reached out to touch his fingers. It was the smallest of gestures—barely noticeable—but it was enough.

For a long moment, you simply looked at each other, the conversation hanging in the air. There was so much unspoken between you, so much left unsaid. Maybe that was the problem.

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out of you, quicker than you could catch them. "I love you."

Spencer's face went completely still, his eyes wide as he processed your confession.

You had not meant to say that. You didn’t. It was an accident. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to put that kind of pressure on this, on him, on whatever this was.

But the words had slipped out anyway. You stared at him, feeling the heat rise in your face, hoping the ground would swallow you up.

"Sorry-God, I'm sorry," you quickly got up and rushed out of the cafe.

He just sits there. Frozen.

If you could pick one moment to rewind, it would be this one.

Oh, you fucked up big time.

~~~

You had never been more ready to get home, but unfortunately, there was an hour and thirty minutes on the private plane. With him.

Usually, you would spend an entire flight, after a case well done, talking to Spence. But after yesterday? But not this time. Maybe not ever.

You could feel Spencer’s presence beside you, but he was quiet. So quiet. Not the usual playful banter, no sudden bursts of random trivia or observations. It was almost like he was giving you space... or maybe he was just too uncomfortable to say anything.

Your eyes flickered to him once, twice, each time hoping for some indication of what he was thinking. He was staring out the window, a far-off look in his eyes, his fingers curled loosely around a book in his lap. For a moment, you almost felt the pull to apologize again, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel obligated to comfort you. You had put your foot in it already. Now, it was time to ride this out and pray it didn't become permanently awkward.

But Spencer, as always, was unpredictable.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice quiet, but it still carried across the cabin, cutting through the engine's hum.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your lap. Had you been that obvious?

"I wasn’t going to," you said, a little too defensively.

He didn’t respond right away. You could feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze making you want to curl into yourself.

“You know I care about you, right?” He said it so gently, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to take it.

You felt your chest tighten. Care about you. Those words. He was still speaking, still looking at you, but it was hard to focus on his words because everything was spinning around that one sentence.

"I do," you replied. You had to stop yourself from saying more—there was more you wanted to say, needed to say—but you couldn’t. Not yet. Not until you figured out where your head was at, where you both were at.

Spencer shifted in his seat. He didn’t look hurt, but there was something in the way he held himself. Maybe he was just holding back, afraid to push too hard, afraid of what that push might break.

You finally took a breath and turned to face him. He was still watching you, his expression a mix of concern and... something else. It was the something else that had you questioning everything.

"You don’t have to say anything," you added quickly, "I just...said something stupid. I didn’t mean to make things weird."

Spencer didn’t break his gaze, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Not his usual goofy grin, but something softer. More real. Something... intimate.

"It’s not weird," he said, his voice still quiet, "You’re not the only one who gets nervous around here, you know."

You blinked at him, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

His smile flickered, a small laugh escaping him before he adjusted his posture and leaned back in his seat. He seemed less tense, more at ease, "I’m just saying... I’ve had my own share of... feelings. I just didn’t know how to... deal with them."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had feelings? For you?

The question hovered between you like an unspoken truth, but it seemed too risky to ask outright. Instead, you glanced down at your hands, the heat rising in your face.

And then, finally, you said something else, the words coming out quieter than you intended: "Do you think... we can just... forget it happened?"

You almost expected him to shrug it off, to offer a playful remark about how awkward it was or how maybe you'd both laugh about it someday. But he didn’t do that.

"No," he said softly. "I think maybe... we should talk about it. When we’re ready."

Your heart fluttered. Was this... was this him telling you he was ready? That maybe he wanted to figure it out too? Or was this Spencer, as usual, just giving you a window to process everything at your own pace?

You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure of anything. But you couldn’t deny the weight of his words, the connection that had always been there and that seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together.

"I’m not great at talking about feelings," you admitted, looking over at him sheepishly.

Spencer chuckled softly, a breath of amusement. "Yeah, I’ve noticed."

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips twitching into a reluctant grin. “Smartass.”

"Hey, you started it," he teased, finally breaking the tension just a little. "And I’ll finish it. But not right now. I think... we both need time to think."

You nodded slowly. He was right. You both needed time. The last thing either of you needed was to make rash decisions while emotions were still running high.

"You’re not mad?" You asked it before you could stop yourself, the doubt creeping in.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Spencer’s face was open and sincere.

"I don’t know. I just..." You didn’t finish your sentence. What was there to say? How could you explain the mess of emotions you were still trying to sort out?

He reached out across the seat, almost as if he was testing the waters, and placed a hand gently on yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a spark of warmth through you.

"I’m not mad," he said again, more firmly this time. "Not for that."

You were both quiet for the rest of the flight, but the silence between you felt different—more like an understanding, like a promise that when the time was right, you’d figure it out together.

It wasn't the one moment you would pick to stay in forever, but it was a moment you didn't mind being in for the rest of the flight.

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

***FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE FANFIC THAT INVOLVES REAL PEOPLE***

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

First Encounter

Life had a funny way of happening sometimes. One moment you're crying in your best friend's arms, the next his lips are on yours and you're kissing him back like your life depends on it. And then everything comes to a standstill, and a week later neither of you can even look at each other. Over a stupid kiss. And your roommates and friends can feel the tension. See it. So much so that they all have mentioned it.

Quinn sighed, reaching across her bed for her phone. A week of sleeping, or rather not, in her own bed. Just a solid week of staring at the ceiling every night for hours on end. One week of Noah hiding in his room, not answering the door for her. Seven days of his bedroom door staying locked. Of hearing it creak open as she lay in her bed, wide awake, listening as he crept downstairs. An entire week of him avoiding her at all costs. Unanswered texts. Calls going straight to voicemail. No answering her knock on his door. Nobody joining her in the bathroom while she showered. He was just gone. And how was that fair? He had kissed her!

Her text from four hours ago had been read. No response. Just read. All that talk about how she deserved better and one stupid fucking kiss had him completely ghosting her? While she actively lived with him?! The fucking bastard.

Everything in her went cold. Leaving her phone on her bed she carefully climbed out of bed, avoiding the spots on her floor that creaked. He wanted to be a dick? Well, he could deal with the consequences instead of hiding.

With bated breath she tiptoed out of her room and across the hall. Slowly, carefully, she pressed her ear against his bedroom door, listening for signs of life. The faint sound of a movie starting reached her ears and she smiled. Caught him. With no hesitation she knocked, calling his name softly. No answer.

Frustrated she knocked and called his name louder. Still no answer. She knew it would be locked but she had to try anyway. The knob didn't turn. She wished she could blame rage for what she was about to do, but it was just hurt. He was the one person who never left. Never abandoned her. Always reminded her that life was worth living. And now he was acting like she didn't exist? After something he had initiated? That hurt more than anything.

"Noah!" She yelled, banging on his door. "I can fucking hear you! Answer me or I'm kicking the goddamn door down! You don't get to do this, too!"

Nicholas's door creaked open at the end of the hall, followed quickly by Noah yanking his bedroom door open and hauling her inside before he slammed it closed and locked it again. One look at him and she felt somewhat guilty. He looked like he'd barely slept, if at all.

"What the fuck, Quinn?!"

"You're seriously acting like I'm wrong here?! YOU kissed ME. And yes, I kissed you back! What the fuck of it?! It was a kiss, Noah!"

His large hand covered her mouth as he drug her over to his bed. Why in the fuck was he acting so paranoid? Quinn pushed him away, making a show of keeping her mouth shut as she sat on the edge of his bed. He wanted to play? She could play.

"Quinn. People are fucking sleeping. What the fuck?"

Noah dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading with her. For what she didn't know. But she watched as he repeatedly started to reach for her, then draw back. Noah had never been scared of touching her before. This was weird. Even for him.

"Seriously, Noah? You kiss me and then act like I don't exist? After telling me I deserve better? And then you go and act just like them? The fucking audacity!" She was yelling again. She didn't care.

Quinn watched as he drug his on hand down his face, rubbing his mouth. He was frustrated. Good. He deserved to be frustrated after this shit. Who did this over a stupid kiss? It wasn't like it had gone any further and crossed major friendship lines. Was she that fucked up that even a kiss was too much?

"Noah," she begged, her resolve breaking. "You're my best friend. It was just a fucking kiss. Please." Her voice shook, breath coming in short spurts. "I'm sorry I kissed you back? I'm sorry for whatever I did that made you this mad at me. I'm fucking sorry, Noah."

She completely dissolved. Clearly she had done something wrong. But what the fuck had she done?

"Quinn..."

"What did I do, Noah?!"

"Exist."

And then his lips crashed into hers, desperate. Pleading. She couldn't help but respond in kind, her fingers threading through his hair. Pulling him closer and closer still. They were all desperation and teeth and tongues, fighting for dominance. Just two people finally acting on the feelings they had always known were there. Desperate to be as close as possible, yet desperate to just consume each other.

Noah fisted his hand in her hair, the other gently caressing her cheek, his thumb resting just on the corner of her lips as he tugged, tipping her head back, gaining more access as her lips parted on a soft gasp. His tongue delved into her mouth, hungry, but gentle. Tasting every part of her. Memorizing every movement that made her moan. His free hand traveled slowly south, fingertips tracing over her throat, over her collarbone, hesitating at the swell of her breast.

Quinn tore her mouth from his, frustrated. Here he was, finally touching her, and he was stopping?

"Noah. I swear to fucking God," she pleaded.

"What do you want, baby?"

His eyes locked on hers and she saw everything there. Everything he had been fighting the last week. All the things he had been avoiding. This moment here. He wanted her. And he wanted her desperately. Just as much as she wanted him.

"Touch me," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

He broke then, his mouth attacking her throat, biting and licking and sucking. And she was helpless against him. They tumbled back on the bed together, pressure already building deep within her. His free hand quickly slid down, much further down than she anticipated or needed, resting on her bare inner thigh. His fingertips danced across her skin, tracing lazy patterns.

"Noah," she begged, pressing her body against his, feeling herself grow impossibly wetter by the second.

He didn't make her beg anymore. Deft fingers shoved her panties aside, a single digit rubbing lazy circles on her clit. The pressure deep inside her quickly turned into a tight band, ready to snap. She was so close already that she nearly panicked. It had never been this intense before, and he wasn't even inside her yet.

"Fuck," he groaned, slipping a single finger inside her. "You're so fucking wet. Jesus Christ, Quinn."

Everything was on fire. Her skin. Her lungs. One of those long fingers she'd admired for years was deep inside her, stroking her in just the right spot as it pumped in and out of her. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better he slipped another finger inside her, and she swore she blacked out for a second as he curled his fingers inside of her, applying more pressure to that spot deep inside her, his palm rubbing against her clit as he worked her with his fingers.

"You're close, aren't you?"

All she could do was moan desperately in response, her hips writhing against his hand. That band was growing tighter and tighter, and she was desperate for release from the pressure low in her belly. His forehead dropped to hers, holding her gaze, his pupils blown so wide with lust his eyes almost appeared black.

"Noah!" she called out his name as that band snapped, her hips stuttering as she clamped down around his fingers, her orgasm tearing through her.

"That's it, baby. There you go. That's my girl," he praised as her orgasm peaked, talking her through it, his fingers still pumping in and out of her, massaging her through it.

Dazed she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her, bringing them up to his lips. She watched, her heart leaping out of her chest as he sucked every drop of her off his fingers, eyes never leaving hers.

"Goddamn it, Quinn. You taste even better than I imagined."

Tag: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[undercoverslutt]

[repost bc it looked weird before...]

my "first" post so pls take it easy on meee

oh u can call me phantom..hi babe.

sneakingoffwithhim! simon riley gets tricked into being edged lmfao

tags: [ur a oral slut] giving simon a sloppy blowjob (barely lol) more like edging his cock with your mouth and he just hassss to take it from his good girl. [you tell him what to do] [he’s your toy] [for your pleasure lowkey] getting lost on his cock [dumb for his cockk], tit fuck mention, spit kink !!!!!! pain kink maybe ( just thoughts off making ur ass hurt from spanking) fuck i love writing you like this, it’s like you’re my slut too. enjoyy ;)

okay so i was thinking of simon sitting in a foldable chair, somewhere in the base. an empty room that's echoey and gray, a greenish tint. the both of you just playing with his cock as almost a form of punishment. he has to be quiet, and you get to do whatever you want with him just bc!!!!

(idk how time works in an army base, let's just forget abt logistics)

maybe...you had rushed in here, away from the rest of the guys, you could feel simon's bulge rubbing up into you. you were sitting on his lap, softly grinding down into it on purpose. his hold on your bicep getting harder and harder, whispering for you to slow down or else he was going to fuck you in front of everyone. that low taunting thing he does with his voice, you wanted it, yes. and he thought that would make you stop. but no. it made you grind harder, especially knowing he was never the type to give up what's his. and def not in public. he knew better. and you did too. that was so disrespectful to say to ur girlfriend simonnn, how dare you…

oh yea…what happened earlier? how eager was your lieutenant to leave with you?

VERYY EAGERR WOOF WOOOF. you just sound so demanding, and sultry against his ear. his eyes lock on you when you stand up, and he knows he can't sit for long because his boys will see the filthy weight in his pants. you tricked him ofc.....

oh, he wanted to fuck you in front of everyone? he wasn't going to at all. so now here he was, both of u playing with his cock in an empty room, hearing the occasional footsteps pass by.

simon’s legs are spread so fucking widely in front of your kneeling form. your body right in between them, and your hands pushing against his knees. he's got his pants pushed down his hips just enough for his cock to be teased and gagged on, by you. just how you like.

his bottom lip is curling into his wet mouth, suckling softly at the skin. his mask was lifted above his mouth from when you kissed him moments ago, sucking his tongue into your mouth, and asking him to spit into it. he did it without a second guess. such a good boy he was being right now for you. his eyebrows furrow in concentration as he looks down at you.

you told him to be quiet, or else you weren't going to let him fuck your wet cunt like he wants to. that's all he can think about. so he's definitely shutting the fuck up. lmao.

one of his hands is on your face.

it’s honestly the most you let him touch you, at least on your head. you weren’t going to let him have his way not when you know he easily can if he wanted to.

your eyelashes brush against your eyebrows when you blink up at him, just precious. his cock completely disappeared into yourrrr mouth, you look so fucking needy too. wow you can really take it huh? ur spit is absolutely soaking the edges of his pants and boxers….maybe? yea.

your own hands have moved to his hips so he can't fuck into your mouth. you're in complete control of him, and his cock. fuck you loveeee simons cock. feeling it throb in your mouth, the heaviness of it on your tongue. you want that, don’t you? you love every inch of your man and never cease to worship it all...fucking slut. you lowkey wish he could be in your mouth every second of the day. fucking your face like he does to your pussy. whenever he gets the chance, he does!!! that made you happy didn't it? this hulk of a man, knows you're a depraved orally fixated slut when you haven't had his cock down your throat in a while. he’ll easily push you down onto your knees when y’all are alone, hike one foot up to rest on your shoulder, almost like he’s using u as a step stool. LOL. he’ll just fuck into your face and make you tear up, holding your hair in two bunches on either side of your head, completely using ur head like a fleshlight. you always look so happy when you see him unzipping his pants.

his eyes leave yours for a second, shutting almost furiously as he grunts out. shut up, simon. cmon be a good boy for ur girl. do you think he can do it?

ur a demon for wanting to drain him for all he's worth, you know? how could you fucking not be. he has such a pretty cock, it's rude, and angry. the tip drooling as you rub it against your swollen mouth. it’s almost like you’ve forgotten about him. and it’s just you and his cock in this room, alone. his moans don’t go unnoticed though.

"quiet, lieutenant.” you whisper a throaty chuckle, stuffing him back in your mouth like a greedy bitch in heat. and you are, aren’t you? reading this, wanting to throat simons cock so badly? tehe.

he was always so perfect and thick for you, and simon makes the prettiest sounds imaginable. so low, and guttural. but now his groans are echoing in that room, and you take his cock out. :((( simon, behave!! you giggle against him though, seeing his eyes shut again. he was pissed, in a way that you only know. frustrated and curious as to what you were going to do to him next.

simons bulky form twists in his chair, hunching over your head now, where it bobs in his lap again. you sound so disgusting underneath his form. gagging and throat fucking yourself for fun. his arms are up against his head, if anyone walked by, they would just think he’s catching a nap with his hands on his head. the window on the door is so tiny, a little square that barely anyone peaks through. he can degrade you all he wants, it just makes you sloppier on his cock. he’s whispering incoherently, and then coherently to you.

simon’s eyes narrow down your body, towards your ass, perched up like it’s ready to be taken. he wants to give your ass a punishment, wants you to whimper around his cock as he slaps your ass over and over and over again for being like this rn. simon wants you hurting for this.

you can feel the pressure of his chest against the back of your head. fuck, you loved feeling crowded by him. completely surrounded. he was so big and yours. you knew he was going to be all over you tonight. leaving his weight on you as he uses your body effortlessly. almost wrapping his entire body around you, so you have no other choice but to take it. fuck he was getting close, and his breathing immediately told you. you sink all the way down one more time, a twitch of his hips making you stop.

there you are letting go of his cock, again. you splutter around it a bit, a soft frown on your face as you take him out your mouth. this was your favorite thing in the whole world. such a slutty princess. and a little, the cutest choke/cough leaving your mouth. there was a long trail of spit connected to his tip and your mouth. he looked so cute and warn out, stiff and hard, and twitching against your hand. he listens to you moan as you gaze at it and grumbles, wanting to say something strongly at how stupiddd u looooked for his cock, but he knew his words would just make you laugh. he knows he would sound like a weak and depraved man, himself. you begin slurping at his tip, even though he was close. you just couldn’t help it. it just looked so perfect and heavy, and warm, and sticky and absolutely covered with your spit. you loved spit sm omg, especially when you can use it to work your boyfriend to his edge. and then not let him have it. what???? huh??? lol. you wanted the fun time to keep going, it’s no fun when it’s overrrr :((. you look up at him again, his eyes trained on you.

what he was going to do with you after all of this, though. fuck. this good boy act was all going to change in the next few minutes when he puts his arm around your throat, barely letting you have a moment to breath. he’s gonna bully his cock into you, relentlessly. fucking into you like you don’t mean a goddamn thing to him. but ur his world. i promise. he’s going to make sure everyone hears it too. whether it’s your moans, or the desperate sounds of your sloppy pussy getting filled to the fucking hilt, and taken over and over again. you’re just as wet as his cock is rn. you would be dripping on the floor if you didn’t still have ur cargos on.

you were going to leave a mess in this empty room regardless after this. he didn’t care if you told him to take it easy on you. you got what you wanted, and he’ll take what he wants just the same.

you were purposefully moaning and tightening your throat around him now, once your bottom lip reached the tops of his balls every time. simon wanted to put both of his hands on your head and use your throat as his personal fucking cum dump. oh, he will.

but not yet. this isn’t his fantasy, it’s urs. you take him out again, and kiss his length all the way up, and then move away from him.

he knew what you wanted as you stared up into his eyes. your mouth was a mess, and you knew he liked the view because he wouldn’t stare at anything fucking else. “mouth. open it.” it’s almost a command, but it ends with a whimper. so close simon, so close lol. he just wants to see your tongue, he wants you to drool on the floor as he fucks into his hand :(. i mean u were practically making a puddle underneath him, his balls dripping with your spit and pre-cum that continues to run down his length. he’s bouncing his knee, twitching to get off. you liked him needy. he was so stoic around everyone else. but for you, he gets so desperate so so so easily. especially with a mouth, and throat, and pussy, and tits as perfect and gorgeous as yours. fuck he wanted to ruin every part of you. now he’s thinking about your tits, and them squishing around his cock as you suck his tip so good. fuck. fuck. fuck.

you mumble a sound of disapproval. fuck, you’re so mean right now. and you’re so getting ruined later for it. one of his hands goes to his poor, weeping cock. his pace is slow, just how you like. his voice catches in his throat as he drags his wet hand up his spitty, precum coated shaft. the view causes you to clench your thighs, mouth drooling, so you spit on him again, moving forward to let it run down his cock. how was he able to get a lady like you? you're so nasty. fucking filthy and sloppy. playing with his cock like it was your toy, yours to crave,, to do what you please. he just wanted you to milk him dry. he wanted your warm, wet, and absolutely giving throat again, fucking god!!!!!!

he’s just touching all over his cock. using both of his hands to stroke his needy length. waiting and watching you like a lost puppy listening for his orders.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#WANT TO GIVE HIM HEAD SO BADDD#he’s such a puppy#humiliation kink lowkey done by meeeeeee

[fairlyabookie]

Comforting You

Author's note: What do the boys do when you're feeling down

All you need is a hug from him to help unwind whatever frustrations you had, the scent of vanilla and baked goods embracing you like a comforting hug. His body heat was perfect, enough to nuzzle your head against his chest as you just wanted some peace and quiet. 

Trey seemed to have noticed your fatigue, brushing his lips against your forehead. He asks a harmless question, in which you halfheartedly reply, the energy you had before completely depleted after a long day. That response was enough for him to know - he lets you stay as you are, drawing circles on your back as you nuzzle against him like a cat. 

“Can I ask why?” Trey asks once more, his habit of asking such questions from taking care of his younger siblings. Much to his amusement, you acted like his younger siblings, a little spoiled under his care but adorable nonetheless. He dares not to prod you further, letting silence reign in between as he adjusts your position. 

You let him manhandle you, your arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace. He didn’t have to hear you speak, as the gesture was enough to tell him: don’t leave me. Your partner lets a chuckle bubble from his lips. Without a moment’s hesitation, he retrieves a blanket and drapes it around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. You cling onto your boyfriend tightly, fathoming his physique.

He reminded you of a large teddy bear, although not as soft as a stuffed animal. Helpless as he was as you didn’t reply, Trey thought of some ways to make you talk. “[Reader], do you want a treat? I can make it if you want.” That was enough to rouse you from your stupor. “Sure.” You hum, peeling yourself from his body. “Give me time, okay? I’ll be back with your treat.” He ruffles your head affectionately, messing up your hair. You didn’t mind the gesture, watching his silhouette drift to the kitchen. 

Epel knew a thing or two about comforting his friends - although, it wasn’t much, he hoped it was enough to bring a smile to their lips: a carved apple bearing a semblance of a flower, an animal and a cup of apple juice fresh from his family farm. Though he wished he could do more, his family taught him that the basic need of food and drink was a natural subsistence - something that can make one feel better after a long day. 

He watches you earnestly as he imparts those gifts, your lips curling to a smile. “Thank you, Epel, how sweet of you.” Yet, somehow, your smile didn’t reach your eyes - the boy had to work a little harder to keep your spirits up. He had to ask: “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

Such a question roused you from your stupor, to which you gave him a smile. “I’m fine, Epel. I just need some space.” You answer politely, your voice soft enough for only him to hear. The boy lets a smile befall his lips. “Alright, let me know if you need anything, okay?” Such an offer belied the hubris Epel had with his relatives in his hometown: a helping hand. 

You accept his offer with a whispered thanks, before taking his gifts to your room. As he watched you depart, he wished he could do more than just providing a simple thing. An idea popped in mind. The boy rushes up to you, asking if you’d like to ride with him on the Magical Wheel. Not sure where he was going with the question, you had to ask him his reason. “Perhaps a ride with me would help set a change of pace! C’mon!” He takes your hand, taking you along for a ride. 

You weren’t much of a thrill seeker, but Epel was; he urges you to hold on, kicking up the engine with a burst of magic. Suddenly, you feel the rush of wind against your face, the scenery of the school blurring as you speed along in the vehicle. You can hear Epel’s laughter from his shouting, his voice lost in the chaos. You cling on, feeling the stressors of the day disperse in the wind. 

Sebek noticed something was amiss - not to say it was his intuition, he just knew something was off from you. He didn’t speculate - he thought of asking you up front what ailed you, since your feelings tend to wear on your face. “[Reader], is there something the matter?” Your classmate asks, his intense stare piercing right through you. You manage a gulp, the man facing you intimidating as ever. 

You lack the words, mustering enough courage for a meager response. “I’m fine, Sebek.” That response ticked the boy off, his features contorting to one of frustration. Knowing very well how short-tempered Sebek was, you anticipate another scolding from him - silence follows, merely a sigh from the boy. 

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Sincerity seeps into the boy’s words, his expression gentle, one that belonged to a prince at first sight. Out of the many times you’ve encountered Sebek, this was the first you’ve seen him be so collected and calm - your heart skipped a beat. 

You wished to tell him your troubles, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Yet, you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts. If this doesn’t trouble him, you thought to yourself, as your lips begin to ask “Sebek,” You watch for a change in reaction, anything that would betray any sign of annoyance, “Can you walk with me for a little bit?” 

Sebek expected a little more grandiose request, but he’ll entertain it in the meantime. “Much obliged, [Reader]. Where to?” You didn’t expect immediate compliance from Sebek, finding yourself trying to catch up to him as he began a leisurely stroll. You shyly catch up to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, as you didn’t say a destination in mind, just walking aimlessly until your temperament improved. 

[vaelynx]

This discussion is dearly missing some Uncle Karl, and I say it as someone who isn't even knee deep in theory.

The first thing is alienation. Notice how the discussion above isn't filled with say, car repairmen wishing they could repair hay carts instead, or sailors wishing they lived in the era of rotten rations and scurvy. (Although I fully admit *I* wish to go back to pre-SMD electronics :P)

If you are stuck doing the job of a servant, without even the sliver of prestige and relative prosperity serving the kind of household who could afford servants provided, of course you're not going to be seeing much bad in an era where you'd likely be a subsistence farmer, because work of that nature is inherently more satisfying to a human mind. Notice how people garden in their spare time, but nobody goes to serve rude people as a way of entertainment (except for BDSM enthusiasts)

This brings in a related point that progress as some single sloped line cutting through history is utter bullshit, and for instance, the Industrial Revolution has made most everyone's lives worse for a long while before it made anyone better off. Living in, say, a victorian poorhouse, you could absolutely honestly say that your ancestors say, three hundred years ago were better off than you.

To this also adds a missing element up above and that is freedom as known necessity. Now, I might be misinterpreting this one, so any marxists are free to correct me, but I've always understood it as this: if you run out of your house because it's on fire, that's a free decision, inasmuch as dictated by circumstance - granted, you're not going to be happy at the fire but you don't feel oppressed. Now, if someone aims a gun at you and tells you to get out, I don't think anyone would consider you "free" in this example - you're subject to the will of another. Now, however, if the person aiming their gun at you knew that there's a fire starting *and* that the propane bottles in the basement will blow if we don't get out *now* and so aimed the gun at you... it was as much of a necessity as in case #1 but what changes things is that you didn't know about it. Hence. Known necessity. How does this apply to our topic? The easiest way is that direct comparison between lifestyles with the whole "You live better than kings" is a fiasco for this reason alone. Yeah, a king didn't have a TV set or a flush toilet, but the absence of one wasn't something that entered his mind. (just like I don't spend my days bemoaning the lack of a gizmotator)

Furthermore, this plays an even bigger role for the lower classes. While the situation sucks either way, I'd say it's somewhat more bearable to be hungry because the harvest was shit, than to be hungry because some asshole in corporate decided not to up your wages despite two digit inflation. Now, as per example #3 - it's hypothetically possible that the asshole in corporate is an asshole because he couldn't balance the books otherwise, but you don't know that, and so still feel squeezed. And of course, in things like service industry, most of your misery does indeed come from shitty other people ,either directly or from ways they've actively chosen to make your life more shit (say, cashiers unable to sit in the US)

So yeah, these aspects are quite important, and then there's further issues to go with the previously mentioned positional goods.

Now, not everyone can, indeed, be a general, but the biggest question here isn't so much how many winners does a society have, as much as how many losers. Because there's societies that allow you to be relatively insolvent with dignity intact, and ones who don't, and the second kind will foment discontent and upset. People being rude to service industry workers is a symptom of this - their positional good is that there's someone underneath them yet that they can vent their bile on. But, this goes for general prestige, status etc.

On a complete different end is how some positional goods have gotten grossly devalued, and/or the "market" of them became deformed.

The easiest example here is say, music skill. Easily reproduced music and the breadth of contact networks has, in a lot of ways, killed the positional good of being an "okay" musician. On one side, those with great talent can make it really big, bigger than in a lot of time, on the other, the guy playing a piano at a cafe, or playing a harmonica at the pub has gotten a very shit end of the whole deal, never mind the many many bands whose main claim to fame was that they were local. The same goes for things like writing and relative easy of translation - it's a lot harder to succeed as a "good" (but not great) writer if the works with which you compete are not just from your country, but the whole world (although the niches of the internet have perhaps mitigated this one a little). And so on and so forth, down to how being the most eligible bachelor/bachelorette in your immediate neighbourhood isn't much of an asset in the era of Tinder.

In sum total, while simplistic calls for returning to the past, either from the "left" or the right are stupid, any claim that we're living better than ever is a fig leaf over the fact we aren't even living better than twenty years ago, for most "we"'s probably reading this message, and uncomfortable truths can be discovered by looking into the past.

I think @Earlgraytay has me blocked, though I don't specifically remember having any arguments with them, but I wanted to respond to a post of theirs which asserts that I live better than *anybody* who lived in a pre-industrial society, and I will phrase my skepticism like so:

"If Plato or Alexander the Great or Gengis Khan or William the Conqueror or Leonardo Da Vinci had the opportunity to work at a minimum wage job that they didn't really enjoy until they were too tired to do anything except go back to their apartment to drink and jerk off until they fell into a shallow, stressful sleep before waking up to do it again tomorrow they would definitely do it because that's obviously way better than how they actually lived."

I'm going to go ahead and say that I don't think this is actually obvious.

I'll even say that the more names I add to that list the more facially absurd it sounds.

I don't want to go back to the past and the people who idolize the past are often deeply confused individuals.

But the result of this is a counter-movement which, rather than attempting to figure out what *aspect* of a past society might have appeal, instead simply argues that it doesn't matter because whatever it is could not possibly be more important than Spotify.

And the problem becomes massively bigger if you actually allow people to compare themselves to "Kings" rather than the working class clods of a previous time.

Yes, I live a lot better than a medieval serf. I am really, *really* not convinced that I am living a wholly better life than Gengis Khan or Alexander the Great (Let alone Socrates, Confucious or Leonardo Da Vinci) just because I have a flush toilet.

[loveparqdise]

Summary: chris is a drug dealer and y/n’s a ballerina. you’re not happy with they way he does drugs and kills himself by doing so.

Warning: angst, cursing, drugs? yeah i think that’s all. no smut.

A/N: this is my first fan fic i don’t know if it’s nice or not but it took me a while. it’s based on the song “you by chase atlantic” (it’s a really good song) and there is a bot also on my cai acc based on this, this fic is more detailed tho. (cai is same as my username on here jf you wanna check it out.) feedback is always appreciated and tell me if you want me to do more in the future! also if you wanna be added to my tag list please comment on this post! 🤍

chris was a pretty fucked up dealer, tbh. he would sell drugs, take them, party and that was — until he met you. you changed his life. you were a ballerina, you were usually quiet and reserved. he met you at one of your shows, the show nick literally dragged him too.

despite him being a dealer, who does drugs, you couldn’t help but fall in love. you both started dating, around a few months ago. you guys were like a normal couple, if you weren’t comfortable with something, he wouldn’t force you — no, not at all. he would respect your boundaries.

you’d just wish he stopped doing drugs. he was literally killing himself, every single day and he knew that. and still he would do it. one day, you finally thought you’d break up with him, so you told him to come to the spot you and chris always went too. he arrived and saw you sitting there. he approached you and sat next to you, giving a small kiss on your cheek. “hey, ma. why’d you call me here all of a sudden?” his fingers intertwined with yours as he gently caressed your hand with his thumb.

“chris, i don’t think this is working, i mean, i really really love you but you’re killing yourself everyday because of these drugs, and i hate seeing you like this, i’m giving you time to work on yourself. we can be together after some time, chris i promise.”

he felt as if a ton of bricks hit him at once. were you really breaking up with him? he couldn’t stand this, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream at you, “are you serious? really y/n? after all we’ve been through you’re throwing it all away just because i do drugs?” anger and frustration were clear in his voice, he just couldn’t get it.

“chris, try to understand please, i do love you but i want you to work on yourself and stop doing drugs, please.” he scoffed, he couldn’t believe your words. he got up, “whatever.” he left, on the outside, it looked like he didn’t care but on the inside he was breaking, he felt as if a dagger had hit his heart.

the next few months, chris worked everyday, to be a better person for you. he didn’t deal as much as he used to. he stopped taking drugs and going to parties. instead, he found his new hobby, writing songs. He wrote songs about you, about how deep in love he was with you.

he wouldn’t release it until you forgave him, he wanted you to be there with him throughout this journey. he finally thought it was time to talk to you, tell you that he’s improving. he reached your house & knocked on your door. his heart was beating fast. what if you found another guy? what if you had a boyfriend who was way better than him? what if— his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by hearing the door open.

there you were, wearing a simple outfit but gosh you looked absolutely stunning. he handed you the flowers he bought you, your expression softened. “Hey.” he was clearly nervous, you returned a smile and told him to come in.

you both sat on the couch as he handed you a book, it was full of his songs that he wrote for you. “I wrote this song for you, I put down the drugs for you, I’m so in love with you, A thousand apologies couldn’t make up for the time that I’ve wasted. I've improved. Please give me another chance, let me show you how much I love you.”

“chris, these songs they’re—” you started off but suddenly cut off by chris’s voice, “yeah i know they’re horrible.” he chuckled, looking down and fidgeting with his fingers. “chris what? they’re literally amazing, there’s so much emotion and feelings in these lyrics, i’m so proud of you.” you held his hand, he finally looked up to see your face, you had a soft smile on your face, love was clear on your face. “you really think so?” he looked at you, “i know so.”

you smiled and cupped his face, “i think i’m ready to be together with you. i love you so much.” chris’s eyes widened, he wasn’t expecting you to forgive him so easily, he couldn’t help but just jump on you and kiss the fuck out of you. “i love you.” he said and after that he fucked you on the couch and showed you who you belong too.

tysm for reading! i hoped you liked it, it was my first one so it’s probably horrible😭 if you could reblong it would be really kind tysm <3

divided by @enchanthings

[itsrlymine]

Omgg seriously the people coming at you for being "rUde"... DO YALL NOT KNOW HOW TO READ ???

"i am gonna be so fr with y'all and give the tough love i wish i got at the beginning bc you literally have what you want as you read these words."

TOUGH LOVE. These ppl.. they be like "omg I can't do it I can't manifest 🥺🥺🥺🥺 👉👈😔" LIKE DO YOU SEE OTHER BLOGGERS WHO BABY YALL GET SO MANY SUCCESS STORIES IN ONE DAY?? I was like those people just a day ago and now I'm a whole new person (ty baby for transforming me 😍🤭🤭🫶🫶) also btw its toilet girl anon 💕💕

+ success story I manifested tapping into pure consciousness and I swear it was that easy I- 😭😭 I manifested a cute dress cuz there's a party in my school Friday (plus I manifested no school Wednesday and Thursday ❗️❗️) like omgg it's actually so adorable I wish I could put pictures as an anon 😭😭💕💕 tysm thoo

Omg hey girllll. I don't wanna give you the toilet emoji so you have to find one beside a disco so I can recognize you😭😭.

The way I can't stop cackling like??? Reading is ACTUALLY fundamental. What happened to the schools???? I'm not gonna make yall feel better bc you want to sit in not having what you want. That is not what this page is for. I only care about yall getting yall shitttttt.

ANOTHER SUCCESS STORY OMGGGGG YALL GOT IT FR!! It is soooooooo easy like almost to easy at this point. Yes girl omgg and I just KNOW you look amazing asf and I love that yall are cancelling classes and school for yourselves. I would have done that when I was younger if I knew about this.

Where is that angry anon again??

[atangledfate]

A Hero? Why did they all go to that so quickly? He never wanted to be a Hero, even now it was the furthest thing from what he wanted. He fought because he had to, he fought because he lost someone precious to him. It was never about justice, or doing the right thing. It was and has always been a very personal conflict for him. One he still battled with internally. There were things Starline didn't know and might never know. Which by proxy left Surge in the dark, as well. No he wasn't a hero, he was just a guy who decided to fight back when everyone else was running away. He was full of anger and rage, and just wanted to make Eggman pay for that. If not for Tails, and Amy he might have become a very different person.

" I'm not a hero... i wish everyone would stop giving me that label, and if you think GUN thinks of me as a Hero, you are out of your damn mind... "

He said rather bluntly to Surge as he was probably at the top of there shit list.

" GUN absolutely despises me... Because they can't control me. The first chance they got they tried to lock my ass up. Let's not pretend they hold me in high regard here. They tolerate me because folks would flip the fuck out if they made a move... Nah GUN only cares about how they can use me... and i ain't about to let them do that again..."

He crossed his arms setting the record straight, but Surge was right about one thing. Him rushing at GUN and losing his cool would only make everything worse. But deep down he knew this was going to end badly, GUN was cutting off there reinforcement and backing them into a corner. He knew tactic as he'd seen it before, and it was gun strat 101. The only thing that had not counted on was both Surge and Sonic on base and that may have been why there were stalling.

" And you think a GUN Cell is gonna make up for all the bad you did? That the idea? Cause i dun think that'll be how it works. Those cells suck by the way... the beds are the worst. "

He seemed to have calmed down at least and was focused on Surge, as he crossed his arms giving her a glance with those baby green eyes.

" They'll just want to use you... it's what they do, its there playbook... but if it's what you want whatever i guess i can't convince you otherwise... I just think this will hurt the kid alot more then it will help him..."

He sighed as he looked back toward the airship and fidgeted as he watched it getting closer. The massive shadow falling over the base as it and two other air ships came to a stop over top of HQ, as an almost imposing figure. Sonic felt the hair on his neck stand on end, as his bad feeling only intensified.

==============================================

There was alot that Kit and Surge didn't know about Sonic, and that statement proved it to Tails. But it was very hard for him to begin to explain it to Kit. Even then he doubted Kit or Surge would agree with it or even see it as a justified reason. But Death has a way of changing people, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst. He remembered what Sonic was like when they first met, and how he just never spoke to anyone. He honestly thought he was mute for a long time but of course that wasn't the case at all was it?

But at least Kit was honest with him and he could respect that honesty. He wanted him and it was probably the first big step forward. He also didn't disagree with him either, Sonic could end Eggman in a heart beat should he want to. He could have ended him so many times but he couldn't do that not without souring her memory.

" It does help... If only a little ... "

He didn't think trying to explain things to Kit would help and if anything it might agitate him. Though he wished he could make him see things the way he did.

" There, Relay is set up Restoration Coms fully restored... Lanolin should be able to contact our forces outside of Restoration now. We should get Belle Bot someplace safe till this is over, if anything happens to her, we'd lose coms and more--- Know anyplace secure? "

The horrible awful truth was, Sonic lost someone so precious to him that it nearly destroyed him. He was so full of anger and rage when he first met him. But it was her memory that kept him sane, that made him unwilling to to take a life. Her memory that made him believe that people can change. He knew neither of them knew the truth, how could they? He doubted even Eggman knew about her... or how she'd died.

But losing Sonic's mother had been the hardest thing in his life, and he still wrestled with it. If anyone had a reason to kill Eggman it was Sonic, and yet his promise to her kept him from going through with it. But he didn't think Surge or Kit would understand that kind of promise, or what it meant to Sonic. How breaking that promise would tarnish her memory in his eyes.

It was something he could never understand... his own parents abandoned him after all.

"Really? And here I thought they came all this for a fucking tea party with scones. Obviously I know GUN isn't here to just fucking talk, and I'm sure they have their own plans to be a pain in the ass. Though in case you forgot YOU'RE the hero, even to their bitch ass's. How do you think they'll react if you go off the fucking rails. At least if I do it then it'd be way easier for The Restoration to cut me off real quick." It was a blunt and harsh truth, though being such a loose cannon came in handy in a situation like this.

"What do you take me for, a fucking idiot? I'm well aware that I'll have to convince Kit NOT to fight GUN and let them arrest me, and doing that will be like pulling fucking teeth. That doesn't change the fact I trust only you to get him home and to keep your mouth shut just where it is. I'm not telling saying you can't be angry, though take it from me, you don't want it controlling you." Until today most of Surge's choices were driven by her anger.

"Look, I know you ain't happy about my choice, though believe it or not it's for me too. I got shit I need to pay for, and not everything is as easy as changing and running around helping people. Sometimes jail time is need, though I'm sure we both know some crazy threat will come up to force GUNs hand to let me loose to help which could help me get out faster." Surge main reason for doing this was clearly for Kit, though another reason was doing it for herself.

"So if you're done arguing with me then lets get to this fucking checkpoint and make sure GUN knows trying anything stupid will piss both of us off." Surge was ready to start telling GUN to pack it up and go the fuck home, if only for the fact it would get Drippy home faster. "Besides, in case you forgot we got giant Momma Wisp up there." The tenrec doubts GUN wants to fuck with a Wisp that side.

===========================================================

"Belle Bot wasn't designed programming of hacking, and it was something we put on the back burner as it was made mainly for defense purpose's. Simply put, it can't do something on this scale, though I suppose it'll work for at least jamming their communication and airships if need be. Belle Bot, run program delta nine B on all GUN communication devices and airship within range."

Belle Bot's eyes would glow green for a moment. "Executing command and calculating time until completion. Calculation complete. Command will be fully done in six minutes. Recommending to avoid conflict until process is complete." The bot would then put it's focus on completing the command.

"Why? It's not like you did this to me, and honestly I couldn't care less about your existence by this point. At this point my dislike for you is only because of how continue to let Sonic act so foolish and not convince him to end Eggman. Heroism is fine, though there's a clear line between heroism and stupidity. You and I both know if Sonic really wanted to he could end Eggman at anytime. I'm sure even you can, though you don't." For the most part Kitsunami had gotten past Starline's programming expect for a voice every now and then.

"So there's nothing to talk about as I just don't like you, though I can also admit I don't trust you either. Mainly because our points of view are so far apart and so different. If it helps I can say it's no longer personal as I apply this logic to Sonic and plenty of your friends." Kitsunami could now say he was mostly thinking for himself, even if most of his motivation was to help Surge.

[coquelicoq]

Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.

Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.

"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.

"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."

Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.

"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"

He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."

In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.

Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile was one he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.

It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.

"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.

Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.

They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.

Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.

A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.

His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.

He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them as soon as possible, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?

A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.

"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."

A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?

He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.

"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."

[fallenhunnyapple]

Hell is Forever and Heaven is a Lie

Here's Part 1 of the Sinner!Adam AU RP ⚠️Disclaimer⚠️ We started this RP in February very soon after we got into Adamsapple so our grasp of the characters then and our HCs and stuff were not what they are now, so there's gonna be some inconsistencies and maybe behaviors that we no longer attribute to them. So just something to keep in mind if things Change over the course of the posts. Lucifer and Charlie are written by Me Adam (and briefly later Niffty and Husk) are written by @fallenguitarhero

~~~~~~~~~~rp start~~~~~~~~~~~

When Charlie called him over in a panic, Lucifer was instantly there by her side. Adam. Having Adam in Hell as a sinner was, well. It was a whole disaster. It made sense? He was far from Noble and his soul was still human, though he lacked the element of free will. But it certainly didn't sit well with him. Especially since he was near his daughter. His precious little girl who he had dared to hurt before. He still wished he had taken him out back then, but now it seemed that it wouldn't have mattered since he was right there in Hell again.

Charlie, his kind caring and sweet daughter, had convinced him to help in such a drastic way. Anything to help her, and this was part of Anything. He knew she always had Hell's best interest at heart, whether they deserved it or not. But it was true that if he could have Adam under control, that would endanger her Much less than if he was allowed to exist within the Hotel without him.

With a sigh and a glance back at the one is question, Lucifer faced his daughter with a gentle smile. "Okay. I'll do it."

There was obvious relief on Charlie's expression as she hugged him. "Thanks Dad! I guess now I'll just. Have to tell him. Yeah, that'll be easy... Haha..."

Her tone was obviously nervous but she pulled away from the hug and took a few steps towards Adam before clearing her throat. "Heeeey, so. Adam. You can Stay here, we're all about second chances! But, uh. All of Hell will probably be after you and well.... We don't want that to fuck us over. Sooo there is Ooone little itty bitty condition. And! It's for your safety too! You'll be killed if you're not under some sort of... Protection. And my dad, Lucifer, has agreed toooo... Make a deal with you to keep the rest of Hell from trying to kill you and destroy the Hotel! Yaaaaaay."

---- Adam was not happy.

He'd had time to calm down from his initial panic and rage. The situation still fucking sucked but now he was actually taking stock of his surroundings and thinking through his options.

He fucking hated being ignored by Lucifer and his little bitch of a daughter but at the very least it gave him the space he needed to think things through. Adam wandered through the rebuilt lobby and poked at the decorations- ugh, why was hell so red? What a lame color. Adam liked blue better.

So. Clearly, something had been done to his wings so that he couldn't just fly up and open the portal between heaven and hell. Adam also felt disoriented and off balance, as though his center of gravity had changed.

Speaking of change...

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in a decorative mirror and went very still. His hand rose to touch one of his new horns and he winced when his claws scraped the surface and agitated the swiftly growing headache that was pounding behind his eyes. He'd assumed that the familiar weight was because of his helmet but these- Adam tugged hard, wanting to tear it out at the root, but all that happened was his headache getting worse. Yeah. That was real.

"What the fuck." Adam swiftly crossed the rest of the room and grabbed the mirror. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth as he took in the changes to his head and face; the new horns and the stupid ears and-

Adam yelped and spun around with a hand clutching his chest.

"Fuck! You scared the crap outta me, don't do that." Adam completely disregarded that Charlie had in no way snuck up on him. He still listened to her, his eyebrows climbing with each word.new

"Let me stop you right there," Adam cut her off mid 'yaaay' with a dismissive flick of his hand. "I don't need protection and I definitely don't need it from him. Are you forgetting who I am? I'm the Adam, bitch! I kill more sinners in one day than fentanyl does in a year!" Adam's voice pitched high and mocking; "Youw pwecious daddy ovew dewe," His voice dropped to its usual rough tone, "can eat a whole bag of dicks."

----

Charlie hadn't really registered what Adam was up to but she didn't expect to startle him. But of course he didn't seem to care. She knew this wouldn't be easy but she still deflated a bit. Yeah, Adam was an asshole, she knew that. And she didn't think he would be willing or accepting of the things she had to say. She took in a deep breath through her nose and tried again.

"Look, I know this isn't... ideal. For any of us. But you're here now! In Hell! And uh. I don't think yooou really get your position here. I-I know you're 'the Adam' but that paints a target on your back, you know?" Truthfully, she didn't know if Adam still retained his strength as an angel which would, admittedly make him at least partially able to handle himself, but in Hell? There would be no shortage of people aiming for him and if they worked together it would absolutely raze this place to the ground after they had just rebuilt it.

"Don't talk about my dad that way." A demonic edge laced her tone. She had low patience for Adam, but she was trying. But no one disrespected her dad.

Lucifer stepped in, placing a hand gently in front of her. "Let me handle this Char-char." He didn't like seeing Charlie agitated and he knew her kind and patient speech wasn't going to get through to a piece of shit like Adam.

"Listen here, fuckhead. I know you think you're still the same you were before you got fucking Skewered a million times. But uh, how do I put this nicely. You're fucking nothing now, Bitch. You're in my world now and none of your Angelic bullshit even works here. Go ahead and fucking try it."

"Dad!" She didn't want to encourage a fight. Maybe... Maybe this tactic would work? But she was still so worried, her stomach tied in knots. She knew her dad could handle Adam, but she didn't like to see this kind of confrontation all the same.

---

She really didn't know when to quit, huh? And here he thought that radio prick liked the sound of his own voice, sheesh!

When he'd first seen her all those months ago in the embassy, Adam had been glad that she looked nothing like Lilith. All he saw when he looked at her was Lucifer and it had made her so much easier to hate. Fun to mess with, too. She fell for all the tricks that the old cuckmaster had always been a little too wily for.

But now? He wished she was enough like her old man to know when to call it quits. This stubborness was all Lilith, definitely. Lucifer had at least known he'd lost all those years ago when he got banished.

Well, he had known. Charlie changed that, didn't she? Adam didn't know how that made him feel.

Adam rolled his eyes and scoffed. As Charlie tried to explain his 'position' (on top like always, duh!) he mocked her with nonsensical high-pitched 'blahblahblahs', his hand making yapping motions the whole time. When she finally finished, he stuck out his tongue with a 'bleh.'

Oh, wait. Things were getting fun now. Adam's eyes narrowed and his smug smirk widened into a full grin.

"Or what?" It took only the barest flicker of movement for his eyes to snap to Lucifer. "Aww, here comes daddy to the rescue-"

Adam's shocked face was priceless. It took him a bit to recapture his bravado and puff back up. His useless wings fluffed up to make him look bigger than he already was compared to the devil.

He immediately turned away, his side facing the pair so he could still watch them, and struck a pose by pointing at a piece of particularly ugly decoration.

Nothing happened.

"Uhhhh!" Adam shook his hand as if it was a broken tool. "One second, gimme one second, this has never happened before-" He peered at his finger the way an idiot like him might peer down the barrel of a gun that wasn't firing. "What the fuck did you do to me!?"

Because it had to be their fault.

----

Charlie's eyes had narrowed at the mocking but she didn't expect him to have any respect for her anyway. Still, it was frustrating to be mocked like that. It pissed her off when demons dismissed her and it did now too. But it seemed something her dad said had definitely caused Adam to drop his bravado.

She had her hand clasped on her dad's shoulder, apprehensive. She didn't doubt when Lucifer said Adam didn't have his angelic powers anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't tense up when he tried. It was a relief that nothing happened and she let out a nervous breath.

Lucifer on the other hand just stood, both hands resting on his cane with a smug and even amused expression. "Having... Trouble there?" His tone was as mocking as his expression. He wanted Adam to feel Small. Height didn't mean Shit, especially when the power gap between them had only Widened. He took a couple steps forward, and chuckled. "Oh, we didn't do anything. Guess actions have Consequences, huh? Never had to experience those, did you?"

----

Adam slowly looked back to Lucifer and Charlie. There was something different in his expression, a look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Even when he had fought Lucifer, he'd been defiant until the end- until he'd been stabbed in the back by that little gremlin.

Adam had never really been afraid before. Startled, yes. A little rattled? Of course. But there had never been a time in his life that he'd been truly frightened. Now, though, Lucifer's smile felt more like the bared fangs of a predator then the smug grin that Adam usually wanted to punch off his face.

Adam drew in a breath and got his shit together. This didn't really mean anything. He was still Adam. Heaven wouldn't abandon him like this.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection from the corner of his eye.

"FUCK!" Adam snatched something small and kitschy and threw it at the mirror. The shattered glass distorted his reflection and made him feel even worse. He hunched his back and mantled his wings around himself, full on ready to throw something somewhere between a temper tantrum and a nervous break down.

"This can't be happening. I'm the first fucking man! I've-" His voice cracked and he grabbed at his horns to confirm to himself they were still there, "I've never done anything to deserve this! I'm not some sinner piece of crap- I belong in heaven, not here. Not with you freaks!"

----

Lucifer took a step back to avoid any glass shards from the broken mirror and sighed. He knew immediately that at the very least Vaggie would come to check. Maybe that obnoxious radio asshole too. No, that wouldn't do.

"Hey, Charlie. I'm gonna take him elsewhere until the deal is done. Come up with some cover story for what happened to the Mirror and we'll be back when I got it." His tone was stern and serious and

Charlie nodded slowly. "Right...." She had been startled by it but she heard footsteps from upstairs now and it sunk in that this was actually a Bad situation to have the others see. "Right! Okay! I got it! Uhm, I can. I can figure it out... Just, be careful Dad."

"Don't worry, I can handle this." He gave Charlie a gentle smile before walking up to Adam and grabbing him by the collar. No time to be a bitch with an existential crisis.

It was not a moment too soon when Vaggie appeared at the veranda of the second floor and looked over to railing to Charlie and the glass scattered on the floor.

"Charlie! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Oh, uh. Just got a little too... Excited and ended up knocking some things over that cracked the mirror. Haha, clumsy me-!"

~~

Now they were Literally in Lucifer's house. It hadn't been properly lived in for a while, but it was clean enough to handle this mess. He unceremoniously tossed Adam at the couch in the living room and sat in the nearby matching armchair.

"Done having your fit?"

----

Adam was too consumed by his angst to notice that Lucifer was approaching. It was only when he was scruffed that he properly tuned back into the situation at hand.

"Huh?" Adam blinked dumbly. He had just enough time to register what was happening before he was thrown into a couch. Instead of trying to dodge, Adam chose to just use the remaining momentum to climb onto the couch and flop face first onto it.

"Yes." Adam answered snippily after a few seconds. "I'm now having a heart attack instead."

----

Well at least he wasn't having a tantrum. Did the sudden change of scenery knock him out of it? Hopefully. He didn't like dealing with this manchild at the best of times. Though it was gratifying knowing how pathetic and weak he was now. And Adam had seen it for himself too. "Oh, good. Let me know when you're done with that and we can..." he sighed. "Have a real conversation."

He said that but he was restless and he still didn't like Adam so instead of being an adult and having any kind of patience, he picked up a rubber duck from the nearby pile and tossed it at Adam.

----

Adam grunted. He didn't want to talk to Lucifer either. In fact, maybe if he ignored him long enough Lucifer would go away.

The duck squeaked as it bounced off of Adam and into the back of couch and then fell back on Adam's back between his wings. Why have you betrayed it like this, father?

Adam grunted.

"Bruh," Adam lifted his head and squinted at Lucifer. He looked terrible. His face was mostly unchanged from when he'd been an angel, but for the rectangular pupils and sheep-like ears. But the bags under his eyes and unkempt appearance had been joined by bloodshot eyes and red lines on his face from the couch. "Did you just throw a rubber duck at me? Have some respect for the dying, asshole."

----

Adam, the guy who's pride almost rivaled his own at times, was feeling sorry for himself as he lay on his couch. Lucifer couldn't help but find the humor in this and let out a single chuckle. He almost felt bad for the duck though. At least Adam didn't try to break it or something.

"You're already dead twice over asshole, you're not dying again. At least not so easily. You see sinners are resilient. And that's what you are now. Get it?"

----

"Mm." Adam propped himself up on his elbows. Maybe someone would have expected him to throw another fit or attack Lucifer... but he'd figured out that this wasn't the sort of situation he could brute force his way out of.

"Is it because I died in hell?" Adam looked at Lucifer with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Then, he said something that he hadn't even realized had been bothering him; "None of my girls came back. Just me."

He rolled the rubber duck off his back and into his hand with his wing. Instead of crushing it or throwing it, he just held it.

"Angels don't become sinners but," It sounded like he was pulling teeth just to admit he wasn't perfect. "I have a human soul."

So it wasn't his fault. It was the fucking... radiation or something that hell had.

"Okay. Got it. I'm a sinner for now or whatever." Adam looked at the duck instead of Lucifer. "This blows, man."

---- This was probably the calmest Lucifer had ever seen Adam. All his bravado was gone and he seemed... Small. Like Lucifer had wanted. Good. He didn't have sympathy for him, he didn't care about his problems. He crossed his legs and leaned to one side of the arm chair, propping his chin up with a hand.

"Look, I'm gonna be real with you. This is a first. Angels dying is new to us, and, well, a human soul getting a second afterlife is also new. You've done enough shit this time to get stuck down here with the rest of us and pretty sure you're not going anywhere now. So you might as well get used to it."

And he was absolutely Watching Adam's hands like a hawk. He was being gentle with the duck and that kept him from getting more on his bad side at least.

---- All Adam heard was Lucifer admitting that this had never happened before. He latched onto that one crumb of hope like it was the only thing he had because, well, it was.

"You're right!" Adam shot up with all the energy he lacked just moments before. "This is some kind of freak accident! And that means nobody knows I'm down here, they all think I'm dead!"

Adam looked to Lucifer with manic eyes.

"I have to report to the embassy. If I tell someone I'm alive then I can go back to where I belong." Trying to appeal to Lucifer, he kept ranting; "That's the best option for all of us, right? You don't want me here anymore then I do."

----

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Of course Adam was all gungho about this now. Of course, he wouldn't let that happen. Did Heaven even have a new Ambassador for Hell now that Adam was dead? Had they even bothered to figure that out? He had no faith in Heaven so he doubted it.

"You're not an Angel anymore, Adam."

The words were cold, spoken coldly. And the accompanying gaze held none of the usual jovial playfulness. He had One goal right now and if Adam thought he had any other choice, it would make it even more difficult.

----

Maybe it was the directness of the words or the cold manner in which they were spoken that did it but either way, Adam listened. His wings slumped.

The reality of the situation was finally starting to sink in. He didn't want to accept it but he wasn't so stupid he'd keep beating his head against a brick wall. Above all else, Adam was motivated by his own self-interest and his survival came first and foremost in this situation.

But first, a little bit of self-pity was called for.

"I'm fucked." Adam dropped his head into his hands. "I'm soooo fucked."

----

It seemed the seriousness of the situation was finally sinking in. Good. Lucifer stood up from his chair and strode up to Adam. His expression was still serious, but not quite as harsh as before.

"Yeah, you are. Heaven ain't taking you back and Hell, well, most of Hell would love to string you up and watch you struggle through whatever depraved shit they could come up with."

And now the more familiar playfulness was returning. "That's why you should've listened more closely to Charlie. She had a solution for you. One that would, more or less, keep Hell from ripping you to pieces over and over for Eternity."

----

Adam could have argued with that first point but he knew Lucifer was right about the rest. He would never get out of hell if he was pounced on by the first sicko with an agenda the second he left this mansion.

He… honestly wasn't too familiar with what that depraved shit could be. The most 'depraved' thing he had seen in his long life had been some of the Angel Dust porn one of his exorcists had found and brought to heaven. He'd wanted to let her keep it but Sera had gotten all tense about contraband and made him confiscate it. He'd given her the real sick shit to destroy and hid the rest under his mattress. The exorcist had been stoked when he told her.

She'd died while the shield was up. Adam wished he killed that radio prick when he had the chance.

"Yeah, I heard her." Adam sank back against the couch. "A deal with you…" His melancholy expression twisted into sardonic anger. "Because that ended real well for Eve, right? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

----

Lucifer stepped around to the back of the couch and leaned over it, chin in hand again. "Tell me, what other choice do you think you have?" Adam could protest and be pissed about his non-option, but that didn't change the fact that it was a non-option.

Charlie wanted to protect Adam, give him a chance. Lucifer loved his baby girl but she sure had some weird morals and ideas. And he had already vowed to do anything that helped her with them. His own feelings were always going to be secondary to this. And that was the only reason he had to corner Adam and force him to make the deal. Letting him out without it and at the risk of getting his ass got by any sinner or demon out there wasn't an option for him either.

----

Adam did not like Lucifer being behind him. He twisted awkwardly and painfully to make sure that he wasn't too vulnerable in front of the devil. He was a little jumpy about having his back turned to people now and especially to the most hated being in creation.

"I could die." It's obvious from his facial expression that Adam doesn't consider that an option. He chews on that for a bit. Death or Lucifer, huh? At least until he can find a way back to heaven…

"So if I make a deal with you, you'll protect me from the demons." Adam leaned back. "What do you get out of it?"

----

Lucifer hummed, knowing that Adam wasn't actually considering that. Not Adam, he was going to inflict his existence on people for as long as he possibly could. That was one thing he was sure about. But when the question came back to him he waved his hand a bit dismissively.

"Well, mostly I'm doing this for Charlie. But in terms of, I guess, formalities, it'd be… 'I lend you my protection so no one will harm you so long as you're in hell or else they'll have to deal with Me, and you know how powerful I am, and in exchange you behave for the people at the Hotel and I get your soul.' Something like that."

----

Adam blanched.

"My soul!?" Of course Heaven's poster boy wasn't taking that well. He looked like he was on the edge of deciding to try his chances in a mad dash for the embassy. He was so distressed that he only barely picked up on the implicit threat of Lucifer's power. "You want me to sell my soul to you!? You're the fucking devil!"

----

"Yeah, no shit I'm the fucking Devil. That's exactly why I'm your best bet is this shithole. No one is gonna fuck with me. Or whoever is under my care." He was getting exasperated, and his patience was already Paper thin.

"You don't know shit about this place. All your angelic powers are gone cuz you're not a fucking Angel anymore. You don't even know what you can do as a sinner yet. And that means you're more vulnerable than you've ever been in your entire existence. Your soul? It ain't going back up, that's for sure. You're already here. Hell is forever, I think Charlie told me you said. So either you spend that forever with the best fucking security anyone in this place could possibly get, or you spend forever getting passed around and fucked and killed by randos."

----

Yikes. Someone was grouchy. Adam personally thought Lucifer didn't have the right to act all pissy about this. Adam was the one who got stabbed to death by a psycho! And now he was stripped of his halo and forced to rely on his oldest enemy for survival.

And maybe Adam would have still decided to try to fight if he hadn't already learned his powers were gone. If he hadn't already spent a half hour hopping around like an idiot trying to take flight with clipped wings.

That was another thing. Adam didn't know if Lucifer already knew this but… Well, it was a helluva lot harder to escape angry sinners without his wings. It wasn't like he'd been doing much cardio in heaven.

He was fucked over either way. But at least Lucifer was offering him some say in how he was getting fucked over. A chance to set terms or whatever. And quite frankly Adam didn't relish the idea of being literally fucked by randos. They'd do worse to him, he was sure, not only in the name of revenge but also whatever sick shit these freaks got off on.

"Fine." He bit out through grit teeth. "I'll do it. I'll make a fucking deal with you and play nice for your kid and all her little friends." He leaned closer to Lucifer. "Happy? You've finally dragged all three of us down here with you."

----

"Oh, yes. Very." Lucifer grinned. Fucking FINALLY. While his mind was now very quickly wandering onto Other ways to complete the set, he knew he needed to get the contract done Before all that. Man it'd been a while since he'd drawn up any sort of contract. He'd been more than out of the game for what felt like eons.

But he snapped his fingers and a golden scroll manifested, a bright red pen with it, filled with a red ink that matched the rest of the writing on the scroll. "You can read it, but I don't think you have the patience~ But I am a man of my word. No secret clauses or anything like that. Just what we've already verbally agreed on, but on paper."

----

Adam gave Lucifer a deadpan look.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's nothing weird hidden in the fucking fine print. Do you even know the shit they say about you up there, man?" Still, that didn't go entirely against what he knew of Lucifer. In all of their dealings during his tenure as ambassador to hell, Lucifer had been for the most part honest and straightforward. Adam had always assumed it was because Lucifer didn't like the sinners anymore then he did.

He squinted at the scroll. It wasn't that long and yet he couldn't make himself focus on it for more than a quick skim through. He tried. But after everything he'd been through in such a short amount of time, his hands were shaking with nervous energy and the words just wouldn't stick in his head. It was too short for Lucifer to have hidden anything, right?

… Right.

Adam took the pen and tried to will his hand to stop shaking. He felt sick. No matter what anyone might say about his character, Adam had always been loyal to heaven and to the angels. This was a betrayal that left even someone as self-centered as him grappling with the unfamiliar feeling of guilt.

He'd hated Vaggie so much for betraying them - for betraying him - and yet he was now doing something far worse. A deal with the most hated being in creation.

"… I'm gonna sign it." Adam closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. "I just need a second."

----

"I'm sure I can guess." Lucifer didn't like Heaven and had no doubt they spoke hatefully of him if ever he did come up. Probably mostly lies, honestly. He stood up and walked back around the couch to stand in front of Adam, waiting. Oh, he was sure it wouldn't be easy.

"Yeah, sure, take your time. I got all day." Well, since things were winding down a bit, maybe he could try being at least a little bit of a host. "Hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something."

----

Adam's feathers ruffled up. He cracked open one eye and gave Lucifer a dirty look.

"If I even think about food I'm gonna blow chunks all over your ugly carpeting." Adam half-threatened, half-warned. "Check back in after I've finished committing the ultimate sin, 'kay?"

----

Lucifer held his hands up is a dismissive manner. "Okay, okay fine. No food, got it." He walked back to the chair he sat in earlier and sank down, eyes still trained on Adam.

Until he felt his phone go off and saw a text from Charlie. Aw, his wonderful daughter was checking in on him! His demeanor drastically and obviously changed to being much more chipper and happy as he texted back. Just a little update that they'd come to an agreement and now he was just waiting for him to sign the contract! They wouldn't immediately head back to the hotel though. He wanted Charlie to have enough time to prep things after all! At least that was the reason he was giving her.

----

It was a relief when Lucifer finally found something else to stare at. Adam watched him long enough to see his sudden change in demeanor- the ex-angel looked away with a scowl. Was he texting a girlfriend or something? Adam wouldn't be surprised if someone like Lucifer had already moved on from Lilith.

Driven by his own petty need to at least make this less of a pleasant memory for future Lucifer, Adam took his chance to sign the contract while the devil was distracted. He made sure that his handwriting was sloppy and ugly too. He even considered dropping the pen in the couch cushions before deciding to drop it on the floor by his feet instead.

"Done." Adam watched the contract instead of the devil. He sort of expected it to burst into flames so he made sure to lean back as far as he could without hurting his wings. "What now?"

---End Part 1---

[panclownrights]

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