#That's the thing with being first! Everyone else has the opportunity to show you up after the fact haha

[gryffin-who-cannot-fly]

so I agree with the end result of most of what you're saying, which is that trans men shouldn't be treated as a punching bag and that some queer/feminist spaces need to get a handle on their misandry towards trans men.

but here's the thing. you said

cis men who are generally praised and celebrated in society should be able to take some mean jokes or criticisms and accept they're not always going to be lauded.

and I just don't follow that logic. criticism is one thing, but mean jokes?

I want to quickly say up top that I'm not trying to have a go at you; I see this sentiment from time to time in the (online, usually) spaces I'm in and it's something I want to push back on.

first of all, and this shouldn't matter but it will to some people: you don't know the full identity of every person you meet. you don't know who is stealth trans, or autistic, or invisibly disabled, or has a history of being bullied. in an online environment you don't even know who's a person of colour or visibly disabled.

so if you throw a blanket 'I can bully cis men who are generally lauded by society' net, you will catch men who are not lauded by society, and add to their marginalisation and likely their poor mental health. I know bully isn't a word you used, but repeatedly making jokes intended to bring someone down is going to wind up being bullying.

now I say I don't think that should matter because: what is the great harm to us, in queer/feminist spaces, if we treat everyone with respect and kindness? the usual caveats of course, if someone is being antagonistic or otherwise making a space unsafe then that should be managed as appropriate, but even then no part of that should involve stopping your respect. it certainly shouldn't involve treating them a bit 'nasty'.

part of this is recognising the difference between systemic issues and individual issues. yes, 'men', broadly speaking, are responsible for complex systems of oppression that lead to harm, abuse, marginalisation, gatekept opportunities, etc. but random Guy No 625 that shows up with his girlfriend to the bi visibility event is not personally responsible for that. maybe he's contributed to it or maybe he's spent his whole life campaigning for idk abortion rights and you have no idea. it doesn't matter. he's certainly benefited from the patriarchy; it still doesn't matter. what would bullying this man achieve? nothing.

you mention that privileged cis men need to understand that privilege isn't going to carry over to queer/feminist spaces and I do agree with that. they should be treated with the same amount of respect and consideration as everyone else, and if they're used to the world revolving around them that is going to feel like less, and their feelings shouldn't necessarily be coddled about that. but again, that's not being mean to someone, that's just treating them like a human being.

idk. we should try and live in the world we want to create. that isn't always possible, but you can definitely treat every person as an individual deserving of respect. if they turn out to be a mysoginist, just respectfully kick them out of the space and move on.

I notice sometimes in queer and feminist spaces the idea of "this group is generally given more leniency and privileges in wider society; it's okay for us to be critical or even a little nasty to them because anywhere else they'd be praised". and that's understandable, i think. when you have real issues with men and how men act, it's ok to express that and to mock mens behavior. cis men who are generally praised and celebrated in society should be able to take some mean jokes or criticisms and accept they're not always going to be lauded.

but since queer and feminist spaces are generally more accepting of trans people and the wider society is not, this is also projected on to trans men. "trans men are men" was an affirming statement to our validity, but that was interpreted as "since trans men are men, and men are celebrated by society, I get to be a little nasty to them because the rest of society worships men. they can take it."

but the rest of society doesn't have that same level of trans acceptance. they don't see trans men as men, they see trans men as mentally ill, broken, mutilated women. so it's absolutely aggravating when we turn to queer and feminist spaces for solidarity, we face the same reactive nastiness cis men get and are told "come on, trans men are men. you are celebrated in society. you can take it." and when we look at the rest of society there's no celebration. there's only more nastiness and cruelty. so how can we "take it" when we have no community that accepts us and treats us without mockery? we don't have the shelter of acceptance that cis men have in the status quo, and sometimes we can't find a small umbrella of acceptance in queer communities either.

to be honest, I think a lot of people view trans men as a safe punching bag to vent their frustrations with men. you can mistreat a trans man and he's probably not going to fight you back since he's already so beat down. you can feel like you put a man in his place, you can feel like you're resisting the patriarchy. but all you did was act cruel to a marginalized person. and you know if you treated a cis man like that you might be putting yourself in danger, cos he might not take it lying down and he might not care as much about your wellbeing!

trans men are men, but trans men are not cis men. cis men are lauded and celebrated in society as long as they conform to the gender roles that were placed on them at birth. and this privilege is extremely conditional and not equally spread between men of different sexualities, races, ethnicities, ability, age, etc; trans men and intersex men are thrown to the side completely. I understand needing to vent about men. trans men do it too. but a persistent attitude of resentment and cruelty towards all men, including trans men, is not activism. all you do is push marginalized men out of the only communities they belong

[forthegothicheroine]

I've made a post about great lesser-known noirs, but it occurs to me that some of you might not be familiar with the classics, and might want to know where to start. This is a ridiculously short list- I have a million more to talk about- but here are some of the big stars of the genre.

The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade, a clever but callous private detective, gets wrapped up in intrigue relating to an artifact that is functionally cursed. If he's an unscrupulous character, just wait until you meet everyone else. The whole damn cast is electrifying, lending charm and cruelty in equal measure.

The Big Sleep: Philip Marlowe, a kinder and more poetic detective for Humphrey Bogart to play than Spade, is called upon to deal with a wealthy, dysfunctional family, and it keeps on getting weirder from there. Is the sharp-tongued Vivian Sternwood the femme fatale she seems, or is she just another person trying to find the right thing to do in desperate circumstances? And will she and Marlowe keep their hands off each other until the plot has had its last twist?

Double Indemnity: Rich housewife Phyllis Dietrichson and sleazy insurance agent Walter Neff are, by their own admission, rotten people. It's only natural that they should plot a murder together, and that they should turn on each other the very second things go wrong. Every single domestic murder movie since 1944 has ripped this off.

Kiss Me Deadly: This is nominally an adaptation of a Mike Hammer story. Screenwriter Bezzerides hated Mike Hammer. As depicted here, he is one of the worst people in the world. Depending on the cut of the film you see, he may inadvertently cause the nuclear apocalypse. (For once, the theatrical cut is darker.)

Sweet Smell of Success: Cruel, all-powerful columnist JJ Hunsecker wants his sister's boyfriend out of the way (for reasons that are, um, ambiguous.) To accomplish this, he enlists the biggest weasel in New York, Sidney Falco, and the two completely deserve each other as they spend the rest of the movie trading elaborate insults. Popular on tumblr for its dialogue and chemistry between the leads.

Sunset Boulevard: Broke screenwriter Joe Gillis thinks he can con a has-been into hiring him as a script doctor, and that's the last free decision he ever gets to make. From then on, his life is in the hands of Norma Desmond, silent film starlet turned crazed recluse, terrifying yet intensely pitiable. This is as much gothic horror as noir.

Ace in the Hole: The story of a man trapped in a cave is turning out to be a big hit in the newspaper, and if the publicity will make a reporter's career, then what's the harm in delaying rescue just for a little while? This is as vicious as noir gets, but damn it, you've just got to see what happens next. (Watch Jacob Geller's video Fear of the Depths after this.)

Sorry Wrong Number: Of all the films on this list, this is the one that really scared me. In the days of switchboards, a rich hypocondriac woman is connected to the wrong phone line and overhears a murder being planned. It doesn't take her long to figure out she's the intended victim, and each call she makes or recieves makes the situation darker. But how can she escape her fate if she can't- or won't leave her bed?

The Asphalt Jungle: The heist movie. Maybe the only heist movie ever made. Every line is quotable. Every member of the team is an unforgettable personality. When things go wrong, they go horribly wrong. One minute you're laughing, and the next minute you think you'll never laugh again.

Gun Crazy: Laurie and Bart, two practiced sharpshooters, are perhaps the most perfect match in all of noir- and that's a bad thing. When one half of the duo gets a criminal idea in their head, the other can't say no. When the opportunity to ditch her man like a sap comes up, the femme fatale throws it away to be doomed at his side. He fell in love with her when she first aimed a gun at him. Quentin Tarantino kissed star Peggy Cummins's feet at a showing of the film, and I hope she kicked him in the head.

Laura: Everyone was in love with Laura Hunt, and somebody killed her- or did they? Did they get the right person? Is the cop on the case in love with a dead woman? Was her columnist mentor just her gay best friend, or was there something darker beneath that facade? And what would Laura think of all this? A big inspiration on Twin Peaks.

In a Lonely Place: Bogart isn't at all heroic here, as a screenwriter with a drinking habit and a violent temper. He's obviously a bad idea to date, but just how bad an idea? He's not the type of guy who'd kill a woman, is he? Bogart and Gloria Holden give perhaps their best performances here, and they'll wound your soul.

Touch of Evil: A Mexican cop (played, unfortunately, by Charlton Heston) finds out a nasty secret about the big hero cop Hank Quinlan: he's framed the culprit in most of his cases. Not because he's crooked, but because his intuition tells him they're guilty. Director Orson Welles as Quinlan is frightening, grotesque, and a little bit tragic in what some consider the last classic noir.

The Killers: The first twenty minutes or so are an adaptation of a Hemingway story, where out of town hitmen gun down a man so depressed he won't even bother to run from them. The rest of the film is an investigation into how he got that way. It had something to do with a radiant gangster's girl, and something to do with a few botched crimes. Sometimes a man can die before the bullets even touch him.

The Third Man: Everybody is lying about the whereabouts of an American expatriate named Harry when his friend comes looking. Did they do something to him? Or, more frightening still, is he the one who's been doing things to other people? Orson Welles is a more charming monster than he was in Touch of Evil; the light and shadows on his face cast him as a vampire, while his fingers sticking up through the sewer grate look like something terrifying emerging from the earth.

[sysig]

Pet names (Patreon)

[caramel-ribbons]

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[sexbot300]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹  rival!gojo head-canons

contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.

tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.

a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.

rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.

rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.

rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.

rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”

rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:

“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”

rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.

rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.

rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.

rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”

rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”

rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.

rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred— what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.

rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.

rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.

rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.

rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:

“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?”  “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.”  “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.”  “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”

rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”

rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”

rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.

rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.

rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back. 

rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?

rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.

rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.

rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?

rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 

rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.

rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”

rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too. 

rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.

rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.

rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.

rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.

rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.

rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.

rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.

rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.

rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.

rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.

rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.

“something caught your eye satoru?”  “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”

rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better. 

rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.

rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”

rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”

rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off.

rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”

rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch. 

rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”

rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.

rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.

rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

VICTORIA'S SECRET — carlos sainz (fluff)

pairing; victoria's secret angel!reader x carlos sainz summary: when carlos sainz gets the chance to meet his crush at the victoria's secret show, he shoots his shot. warnings: fluff, carlos being an adorable idiot a/n: i feel like whenever carlos has a crush, he's the typa guy to be really nervous and shy around her, so that kinda explains cute awkward carlos in this one.

to say that carlos sainz was jittering with nerves would be an understatement.

he was so nervous that he felt like he might throw up right then and there, and the mere thought of that embarrassment terrified him even more.

although he had met quite a few models in the past, he had never been this nervous around them.

but this time was different.

because this time, it wasn't just a model; it was you.

you—the woman he had always admired from a distance.

the woman of his dreams.

he had had a massive crush on you for the longest time, but he had always been too shy to act on it.

and now, his agent had gotten him a ticket to the first victoria's secret fashion show after the 6-year hiatus, and this time, carlos was determined to shoot his shot.

but now, his agent had gotten him a ticket to the first victoria's secret fashion show after their 6-year hiatus, and this time, carlos was determined to shoot his shot.

he knew you were going to be a part of it. after all, you were considered one of the best supermodels of the current generation.

sp, he had his plan of action written down in his notepad.

step 1: look good.

he wore his best outfit, a simple black tuxedo that made his shoulders look broad and put his biceps on display. his hair looked just like the always did, only a bit curlier (he used lando's curl cream).

step 2: find the perfect opportunity.

he knew that after the show, there would be a party hosted by some models where he planned on 'accidentally' crashing into you.

step 3: talk to you.

this would be the hardest part. obviously, he couldn't just walk onto the stage and kiss you in front of everyone. so, charles helped him write a questionnaire.

he would approach you and ask you questions from the list, which was scribbled on the 12th page of his notepad. then, he would just hope for the best.

step 4: if all else fails, lando.

if things went horribly wrong, carlos could always go cry to him.

however, unbeknownst to the spaniard, he wouldn't have to go through step 4.

you had always fancied the f1 driver; ever since his redbull days, he was your celebrity crush, and seeing him sitting right there in the audience was enough to make you blush a deep crimson red.

the backstage area of the show was buzzing with excitement, with models walking up and down as they put on their outfits and got their makeup done.

you were standing sandwiched between irina shayk and behati prinsloo, fanning yourself as you gave yourself a mental prep talk for your walk.

a designer adjusted the black wings attached to your shoulders as cher's voice echoed through the venue.

behati stepped forward, her presence commanding as she took to the runway. you watched her, admiring her confidence and elegance, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jittery yourself.

you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the countless hours of practice that had led to this moment.

"three, two, one."

and then you stepped out onto the runway.

you looked straight ahead, walking your signature walk as you followed behind behati.

the lights flashed brightly, temporarily blinding you, but the roar of the crowd washed over you like a wave.

your feet were in sync with the beat of cher's song, the drums matching your steps as you stalked down the runway.

your eyes shifted to the left, and then, among the crowd, you spotted him.

gaze focused solely on you, hair styled perfectly, hands folded in his lap.

carlos sainz was far more beautiful in real life than in any of the paparazzi photos.

your eyes met, and carlos' breath caught in his throat.

smiling to yourself, you winked at him.

and that was enough to make carlos sainz almost faint.

he looked to his left and then to his right. surely, he was dreaming. there was no way the girl of his dreams had winked at him.

and yet, you were still looking at him, your eyes crinkling from a smile as you continued walking.

he cleared his throat and pinched his hand.

yeah, this was not a dream.

you looked away, blowing a kiss to the audience ahead of you.

carlos' phone dinged.

lando getting laid tonight or no?

the room was loud, filled with excited chatter as everyone got their drinks and praised each other about the show. the heavy bass of the music vibrated through the floor, colourful lights reflecting off the walls, casting everything in shades of neon. the scent of expensive perfume, alcohol, and sweat mingled in the air.

carlos stood in the middle of the crowded room, heart pounding in his chest. his mind was racing, every thought crashing into the next. he had waited so long for this moment, and yet now that it was happening, he felt like his legs were made of lead.

each second stretched longer than the last as he scanned the room, hoping to spot you.

every time he spotted hair that looked like yours, he would squint his eyes and do a double take. then, he'd turn back around with a disappointed sigh.

his hand instinctively went to his phone. he wasn’t sure if it was to call lando for a pep talk or simply to distract himself from the anxiety curling in his stomach. his phone dinged again.

lando status update?

carlos rolled his eyes, putting his phone back into his pocket. he didn't have time for this. he had one job, and he was determined to see it through.

"you alright?"

the man stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he recognised the voice.

he turned around, letting out a small yelp as his eyes met yours.

carlos stood frozen, his mouth slightly open as you smiled at him. he shook his head, realising he hadn't answered your question. he had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in his head, but now that it was here, all the cool lines vanished.

"i-yeah," he stammered, clearing his throat and trying to regain some composure. "just tired, yeah. the show was...incredible."

his voice sounded small, even to himself. great start, carlos, really smooth.

you chuckled, amused by how flustered he was. "thanks, i'm glad you enjoyed it."

he nodded vigorously, feeling the heat rise to his face. "i-uh-yeah, you were incredible. i couldn’t look away."

he immediately regretted how intense that sounded, but your eyes softened, and you smiled at him.

"thank you, that means a lot. i noticed you too. you were hard to miss in the crowd."

you mentally slapped yourself, realising how stupid you sounded.

carlos' heart raced. maybe this was his chance. he could skip straight to step 3.

"well, i’m not sure if you knew, but i’ve been a fan for a long time," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. you wanted to sound cool, not like the nervous wreck you felt inside. "you're amazing on the track."

carlos blinked, surprised by the compliment. his ego grew just a little. "i could say the same about you on the runway. you were—you are amazing."

he swallowed hard, his mind racing. the party was loud around you both, but it felt like time had slowed, the noise fading into the background. he could smell the soft scent of your perfume, the warmth of your body so close to his that it felt hard to concentrate.

was he hyperventilating?

he looked around, feeling the panic rise in his chest.

"do you want to get a drink?" you asked, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed.

"yeah," carlos nodded, taking a deep breath. "yes, please."

"i've always wanted to meet you," carlos said.

"yeah?" you turned your head towards him, smiling. "why?"

he blushed, his mouth opening and closing, unable to think of anything to say. "i, uh-i don't know."

he looked at the ground, embarrassed by his lack of composure. he felt like a teenager again, stumbling through his words as he tried to impress his crush. his hand instinctively moved to straighten his jacket, as if trying to shield himself from how exposed he felt. his fingers twitched nervously by his sides. he could feel beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. he took a deep breath, waiting for his heart to slow down, but his body betrayed him.

you smiled at him. "you're cute."

carlos let out a breathy chuckle, looking at you in disbelief.

"you're cute, too," he said.

"i'll take a cosmopolitan, please," you said to the bartender.

"vodka and coke, please," carlos said, looking at the man who nodded and moved away to prepare your drinks.

"so, how has your night been so far?" you asked, leaning against the bar as you looked at carlos.

he smiled at you. "better than expected. you?"

"the same," you said.

"so..." carlos started, taking a deep breath. as soon as the drinks arrived in front of him, he took three large gulps of it. he felt the alcohol kick in, giving him the courage he needed to talk to you, properly.

something unsaid was hanging in the air between you two, something fragile and breakable. his fingers brushed against the edge of his pocket, where the notepad containing his carefully crafted questions sat. he couldn't bring it out without looking like a fool.

suddenly, he was worried about saying something wrong, about ruining the moment.

"do you want to dance?" you asked, biting your lip.

he paused, looking at you. "yes, yes, absolutely."

you led him onto the dance floor, where the music was louder and the people were drunker.

the drinks were abandoned too soon, he thought.

he offered his hand to you, and when you grabbed it, his touch sent a shiver down your spine, skin warm and rough against yours.

and then, he started swaying to the beats of the music.

"i didn't know you liked dancing," you said, laughing.

"i don't, but i like you."

that was cheesy, he thought.

but you grinned, looking away. carlos smiled at the sight of your pink cheeks.

"i like you, too," you replied.

"oh, really?" he teased, spinning you around.

you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. his hands settled on your hips, and you couldn't help but notice the way his thumb rubbed small circles against your waist.

you leaned in slightly, your hair brushing against his arm, and carlos swore he felt actually electricity shoot through him. your proximity set every nerve in his body alight.

the two of you were so close now, it felt like nothing else existed, like you were the only two people in the room.

his breath hitched. he wasn’t sure how this was happening, but it felt like a dream. the woman he’d admired for so long, the same woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, was standing so close he could feel the warmth of her body, hear the soft nervousness in her voice.

carlos had no clue what was going to happen, but he was sure of one thing: whatever did happen, it was going to be incredible.

and lando needed updates.

taking a slight breath in, you mustered courage and gave yourself another prep talk.

and then the distance between you both vanished.

your lips crashed against his, the softness of his mouth catching you by surprise.

carlos felt like his brain short-circuited. his grip on your waist tightened, and he pulled you closer, kissing you back. he had spent so many times imagining kissing you, but never had he expected you to be the one to make the first move.

his hand came up to cup your face, tilting your head slightly, as he deepened the kiss.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as the two of you moved in sync.

the kiss was everything he had imagined—and more. It was perfect. almost too perfect.

when the two of you pulled apart, the only sounds you could hear were the music and the pounding of your hearts. you stared at him, the world spinning slightly from adrenaline and disbelief.

"i wasn't expecting that," he finally said, his voice soft, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

"me neither," you replied, voice cracking slightly.

you wanted to say something, anything, to keep the moment alive. you opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

"do you want to get out of here?" carlos asked, looking at you through his lashes.

you looked around, the room spinning from the alcohol and noise overwhelming your ears. "i'd like that."

he smiled and held out his hand, and you took it, following him through the crowd.

carlos sainz swore he was going to die a happy man right then and there.

[maximumzombiecreator]

I've seen a lot of posts recently where people say they can't find players to play non-5e TTRPGs with. As someone who moves countries every few years, I've had to rebuild my roster of local TTRPG players from scratch a number of times. Here's how I do it.

Caveats first: while I've done this in small cities, I have always done it in cities. If you're in, like, a rural environment, you might just not have enough interested people around. You can always do it online in that case. I'm not really going to cover finding players online, except to say you should probably look for communities for the specific system you want to play. Most of them are enthusiastically looking for new participants. Especially game masters.

Okay, first things first, you gotta find people. I generally find I get better results if the search is location first. That is, rather than using city-wide or regional Looking For Group type internet groups, I look for physical locations that host gaming groups. Local game stores, public libraries, gaming cafes/bars, etc.

Being location first helps avoid some common bad behaviours. Online LFG groups often have a few shitty people hanging around who can't find long term groups because they're shitty. They'll jump at the opportunity to join new groups where people don't know them, because everyone else knows better than to game with them. But location-based groups are better at filtering this. Someone who harasses people at an LGS can be banned from the store, but decentralized online groups struggle to handle these situations in my personal experience.

Being location first also solves the next problem, which is giving you a location to play. Eventually, when I have a long term group, I'll host games in my home. But there needs to be a level of trust before that feels safe, and we're looking for randoms, so for now we need a public gaming venue. If, for whatever reason, there aren't dedicated gaming spaces where you can do this, I've had the most success gaming in cafes or restaurants during off peak hours. I've run a bunch of games in restaurants from, like, 2pm-5pm on a Saturday, and as long as you're buying drinks and some snacks or something, and being polite and non-disruptive, it's typically not too hard to get permission.

Now, if that local group has enough interest in a non-5e system that I'm interested in running, I'll happily do that, and it's pretty free from there. Most people who are willing to play one other system will gladly try others if they find they like playing with you. But even in big cities, I feel it's pretty often the case that postings for local games of other systems don't wind up actually finding successful groups.

So, here is the bit where, unfortunately, finding people to play non-5e games with involves playing some 5e. Community groups are always looking for more GMs to run games, so I will set out to run a number of short 5e adventures, each with different groups. These are typically oneshots that I have the option of extending for another 1 or 2 sessions.

I always run adventures that I've written myself for these, because I want my particular GMing style to really come through. Looking for players is a two way street. I'm looking for people I like GMing for, but I'm also looking to make sure they know what they're getting. Especially if I'm going to ask them to play a system they've never tried, they should know that there's going to be something they enjoy. So, these short adventures are full of the types of silly but sincere NPCs I tend to run, the open-ended scenarios I prefer, the tropes I favour, etc. If someone isn't going to enjoy playing with me, I want them to know it from this adventure.

I structure the adventures to give me a lot of flexibility in terms of how long they run. They're nearly always mysteries, but with some active component to the mystery, so that if things drag or dawdle I can have the villain show up and force a final confrontation. They're also structured to have a natural "next thing." You find and defeat the villain, but there's an implied next villain you'll be going after. That way, if the group is working well and I want to continue, it's easy to present the option to the group. But if I'm not interested in continuing with the group, the next thing can just serve as an "and the adventures continue" implied epilogue, and the game still feels complete.

I don't like players just bringing their own character sheet to the table. Someone who brings a disruptive character can ruin a session without me getting much useful information out of it, other than that I don't want to play with that person. And if it ruins the experience for the other players, I'm often out the opportunity to game with those people, through neither of our faults. I've experimented with both asking players to submit their characters in advance or making them choose between a collection of premade characters. The former is a good check for whether people will put in a basic amount of effort and follow instructions, but it can dissuade people who are just looking to dip their toes into playing for the first time. The latter can turn off players who are into crunchy games and are excited about character building. As a result, I'll usually choose the approach based on what non-5e system I'm currently most excited about running. Do I want to get together a group for a rules-light game? Premade characters it is. Looking to run some PF2e? Please submit your character sheet in advance. Some locations also do more drop-in based games, in which case it's premades all day.

As I'm running the game, I'm observing the players. There's a simple vibe check, obviously. Do I like playing with this person? But I'm also looking at how they play. What are they here for, what's exciting them? Are they struggling with finding optimal turns in combat, or do they like mastering a system? Are they curious about the world, or do they glaze over when the spotlight isn't on them? Do they light up in dialogue scenes? Do they want to try crazy things outside of their on-sheet abilities? Remember, later, I'm going to try to persuade this person to try to play a game they've never played before. I need to know what specifically is going to excite them.

I have (always with permission) recorded sessions before to go over in making these choices, but honestly even just a few small reminder notes will help me unravel things later. If a session goes well, I'll ask at the end for people to give me their contact information if they'd be interested in playing again. Non-committal, at their comfort, and it doesn't single out people that I don't want to play with. I can always just not call them. Usually I find I'm interested in playing again with a little more than half of the players I meet this way. In my experience, it's fairly rare for a player to say they're not interested in playing again, TTRPGs rule and there's a DM shortage.

What I usually do is keep running these until I have enough people in mind to run something else, even if it isn't the system I'm most excited about. Probably it would be better to spend more time in this starter phase building up more connections, but after running like 4-5 5e adventures, I'm usually more than ready to run anything else, and if I have to shelve my Lancer ideas because I've mostly found crunch-averse players, I'm usually fine with that.

So, next comes the invites. Now, most players I meet this way will eventually be open to playing most games, but listen: you can put people well out of their comfort zone for their third TTRPG, but you gotta be real careful with their second. Most of the time, the game I'm inviting people to will be their first real exposure to a non-5e TTRPG. If they don't like it, they will run back to the safety of 5e and you will never get them out of it again. So I am very careful in picking the right system for the players I am inviting.

Whatever the new system I want to run is, I will set up a pilot session for it. I am very clear to players that I will teach them the system at the session, they do not need to know it in advance. Eventually, when I have a reliable group of TTRPG people to play with, I'll expect them to be able to pick up systems without a ton of help, but for players that are only used to the complexity of 5e, the idea of learning a new system is daunting. I rehearse the teaching of the game session. It's the only thing for TTRPGs I ever rehearse, but I want to know down pat how I'm going to quickly teach a new system and make it feel approachable and non-threatening. I'm also very clear that this will be a single session, with the possibility of turning into a campaign if we like it. All of this is structured to feel very safe. No initial learning required, no long term commitment, with a GM you already know you like.

But even as safe as that is, you still have to pitch the system. Why should the player be excited about playing this new game? Don't go all TTRPG nerd on them and explain all the details of the system, or use a bunch of jargon. Give them one or two things to be excited about with short, detailed anecdotes to back them up.

"We're going to be playing Blades in the Dark. It's a game where you play a gang of criminals in a haunted, steampunk dystopia. Every session you'll do heists, but instead of meticulously planning them, you start right in the action, and when you need to have planned for something, you can do a flashback scene to explain your preparation. One group I ran this for got busted by guards during an early heist, but used a flashback to create a scene where they had gotten a buddy of theirs a job as one of the guards, and he helped them out of the situation. And for some reason they fell in love with this bumbling goof I improvised to be the buddy, and then on a bunch of future jobs they kept using flashbacks to get him jobs wherever they were robbing. So this one idiot was just a de-facto crew member who worked a dozen different inside jobs despite being about as sharp as an eraser. And eventually they fucked up and got him killed, but they brought him back as a ghost, because you can do that in Blades in the Dark."

I find using a specific example of play really helps get peoples' imaginations going, which is what is going to help them say yes. And that example is tailored to what I know that player vibes with, what it is I think that makes them a good fit for this game.

The last detail about the invites is that I'm telling them, not asking them. It is not, "Hey, are you interested in playing this new game?" It's "I'm going to be running this new game. If you're interested in playing, please let me know what times work for you." If you're asking, you're going to get some "well but can it be 5e?" If you're telling, then they can choose to learn a new game in order to keep playing TTRPGs with a GM they know they like, or they can choose not to play at all.

Once you get enough yesses for a game, you run it, and then from there you're on your own. I think those are basically just friends you have at that point, and I'm not gonna tell you how to have friends.

Hopefully at least one person finds all that useful!

[spliffymae]

rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil, my name is Zalean. If you have a few minutes, I wanted to tell you a little story. Not really a question and I’m not sure how to use tumblr but I wanted to say thanks so much for coming to Florida a few months back and talking with Art Spiegelman. It was my first time ever figuring out how to buy tickets for something. I lived in, middle of nowhere, Vermont for most my life and had no idea what I was doing, I had never been to anything before, nothing had made me excited enough to do the 5 hour drive. And then you just appeared 20 minutes away from where I am living now.

See, I was just starting to get to know your books and work because I fell in love with Good Omens so deeply when I discovered it during season twos release. Funny thing is, I knew of you all along without even realizing it, Stardust has been my favorite book and movie since I was a kid because it was my dad’s favorite story. Finding out my two favorite things were actually connected, I started trying to get hands on as many of your books as I could. I hadn’t read in years before finding your books. It was eye opening.

The talk event at the Dr.Phillips Center was sold out by the time I knew about it, someone had asked me if I knew of the event when they saw my Good Omens keychains my mom had made me. I called the box office because there is no harm in asking. I explained how I’m an art student at UCF and desperately wanted to be inspired and learn from you both. The customer service people were amazing and ended up calling me back to get me a seat in the orchestra pit before they were released to the public. I drove alone, I walked there alone, I sat alone, and it was worth it. I was so thankful to get a seat and grateful to my professor who was a bit jealous he didn’t know about it but let me leave class early to go because of course the art professor would be understanding for any learning opportunities in the arts. And it was truly wonderful, it seemed real and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want a show. I just wanted to hear, in some sense, that you were like everybody else. I brought a notebook and pen for any information or story’s that I thought made a difference to my little life. The other people around were wonderful, you inspire kind people.

Like I said, I had never been to anything like this and I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you would have signed books and I only found out because the people next to me came in late. I asked them why they brought the books after it was over and the lights turned on. They did look at me like I had three heads for a moment until they realized I didn’t know there were books to buy, they looked kinda sorry for me but they were so nice. I had never really thought about the importance of someone’s scribble before this but it’s something that proves you were there. It says “Remember when this person made you happy? Remember when they changed your life? Remember when they gave you hope? Look at this and remember.” I hope to see David Tennant and Michael Sheen to get an autograph now that I understand the meaning behind it a bit more but honestly I just love diving into everyone’s projects, the wonder you all create. Oh what fun it is to live a life full of stories!

The people that were sitting next to me let me look at their signed books and hold them. I flipped through some of the big ones, handed them back and expressed my gratitude just to be in the theater. I showed them all my little quotes I wrote down, I never want to forget why I create things and you say so much about never stopping, always creating. Then the women handed me a different book, a smaller book, but when I tried to hand it back, a bit confused, she softly placed it back in my open hands and said “I want you to have it, we have plenty and I want you to love these stories just as much as we do. It’s just starting for you, I want you to remember who started it”. The book she handed me being“The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. The first book I decided to read by you and had just finished a week before. The women had no idea she given me a signed copy of the book that made me want to read again. Your books make the world better. For such a big theater and such a big stage, I just wanted to tell you my little point of view.

The story you told about wishing you enjoyed the past more than you did, I hope you get to enjoy it now, and I hope you want to. And thank you, to you and to Terry Pratchett for creating something special. I convinced my dad to watch Good Omens with me over December break, he loved it.

I forget sometimes that everything is someone's first time, and then I read something like this and feel like I need to remember that better. I'm glad the people beside you were kind.

[tarotwithavi]

What is coming into your life?

+ some messages that you need to hear

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest.

Masterlist

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Thank you so much for your love and support 💕🫶🏻

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

The first thing I’m getting is that many of you have been focusing on personal growth, and it’s paying off. I see a lot of you realizing that you’re truly capable of achieving anything you set your mind to. You’re stepping into a powerful energy of self-confidence and self-love, and this shift is going to attract a lot of good things into your life.

Keep your eyes open for new ideas, projects, or invitations that come your way. Whether it’s a sudden thought or an offer to attend an event, these opportunities could be really beneficial for you. Trust your instincts.

Some of you might be considering doing something that no one in your family has done before. This could be a bold move or a unique choice. I want to encourage you to take that leap. By doing so, you will break a cycle of family patterns, especially around standing up for yourself and your dreams. It’s a brave step, but it’s one that will bring healing and growth.

I’m also picking up that some of you will soon spend quality time with an important male figure in your life. This could be your father, grandfather, or someone you look up to with strong masculine energy. This time together will feel meaningful and may even strengthen your relationship. Some of you are thinking about having an important conversation with your parents. This could be about expressing gratitude for everything they’ve done for you, or it could be about something else on your mind. Either way, I see this discussion changing perspectives in a positive way, bringing deeper understanding.

I also sense that many of you will receive a new opportunity related to making more money. This might come through a job offer, a project, or a chance to use your talents in a way that allows you to earn from them. This is a great time to explore how your skills can be turned into something valuable.

However, I do feel that some of you are worried or stressed about something, particularly when it comes to the outcome of an exam, test, or project. Let me reassure you—you don’t need to worry. The results will be positive, and you’ll feel satisfied with how things turn out.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

You need to stop giving your time and energy to people who don’t appreciate or value you. If you are in a position where you can protect and care for the people you love, then do so without overthinking the outcome. However, if you’re not in a place to make decisions for them, it’s important not to try and control everything. Remember, before you can protect or help others, you need to protect yourself first. Secure your own place, take care of your own well-being, and then you can support those around you.

It’s also important to understand that you don’t always have to be strong. It’s okay to just be yourself. You don’t need to carry the weight of everyone else’s problems. Be honest about how you feel, and don’t be afraid to show vulnerability.

I see that many of you are incredibly talented, with unique skills and gifts. But what’s holding you back is your own self-doubt. You might feel like your talents won’t be appreciated or recognized, so you keep them hidden. But how will you ever find people who truly appreciate you if you don’t share what makes you special? Take this as a sign to put yourself out there. Show your talents to the world so you can connect with those who truly see your worth and value your skills.

For some of you, there’s a big change coming. You may be pushed in a new direction or forced to change the path you’re currently on because it’s no longer good for you. Don’t see this as a bad thing; instead, view it as an opportunity for growth and self-improvement. This change could lead you to a better version of yourself.

I also sense that some of you are stuck in a confusing or unstable relationship. The person you’re talking to or have feelings for might be giving you mixed signals , one moment they seem totally in love with you, and the next, they act like you don’t matter to them. If this is the case, it’s important to recognize that this is not a healthy situation. When someone’s actions make you doubt yourself, it’s a clear sign that something isn’t right. It’s better to walk away now, before it hurts you more in the long run.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

I see that in the coming weeks, you’re going to need to work very hard on something important. This could be related to a project, job, or personal goal you’ve been focused on. However, all this hard work might take a toll on your health, so it’s important to be extra careful and take good care of yourself. Don’t push yourself too hard. If you feel stressed or overwhelmed, make sure to take small breaks when needed. Remember, it’s okay to slow down sometimes.

The good news is that what you’re working on ; whether it’s something you’re involved with now or something you’ll start soon , is something you’ve been wanting for a long time. You’ve probably dreamed about this moment, so stay positive and trust the process.

I feel the need to remind you that you are deeply loved by the higher power, whether you believe in God, the universe, or Mother Nature. No matter how many mistakes you make or how unworthy you may feel at times, you are always loved and supported. You are part of something greater, and that love is unconditional.

Now, take a moment to think of a yes-or-no question that’s been on your mind. The answer to that question is “no.” This might be the guidance you need to help you move forward.

Back to the main message, something significant is going to happen within the next few weeks. I would say by the end of this month or the first week of October, you’ll experience an event that will bring up strong emotions. It could be overwhelming happiness or sadness, but either way, the feelings will be intense. Be prepared, and try not to let the situation control how you react. Stay calm and centered, no matter what comes your way.

Also, a little advice: some of you need to wear more yellow or add yellow to your wardrobe. This color might bring positive energy into your life. If you’ve been feeling unwell, like having a fever or headache, I see that it will likely pass within 48 hours. But if you’ve been having constant headaches, don’t ignore them ,it might be time to see a doctor just to be safe.

Lastly, angel wings and a purple or pink dress will be meaningful symbols for you, so keep an eye out for them. They might show up in your life in some special way.

I also feel like adding this

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[streetlightyeri]

oklahoma smokeshow ; t.o

"cause you're a small town smokeshow."

w.c.: 6275

content: lovers to enemies (?) to lovers, angst, fluff, do i have to disclose natural disasters lol, death of a family member, no beta, and as always: FMC is named but has no descriptors

-

The thunder rumbled around Harlow, the sky turning blue with every flash of lightning. These circumstances aren’t what she pictured coming back to Oklahoma to be; the forecasted unprecedented storm week seemed like it was less of a random once-in-a-generation weather cell and more like a physical amalgamation of her emotions. She spent the entire plane ride pretending to be asleep with her head covered so the flight attendants didn’t see her tears; her seat partner acted like he didn’t hear the occasional sniffle. Harlow was grateful for that.

The rental she chose was the last truck on the lot: a Toyota Tacoma with an Arkansas license plate. She wanted to kick the metal plate and pretend it was her ex’s University of Arkansas alumni plate. Instead, she pretended to be normal, and climbed in, immediately turning on the seat warmers and relaxing against the leather. She pulled the seat up the farthest it could go; whoever rented before her practically had it brushing against the back row.

She felt like she was back in high school, driving her dad’s truck to Dairy Queen with her friends. Now, she couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a truck. She spent most of her time on the metro or in a yellow taxi. After her and Tyler’s blowup breakup, Harlow declined her full ride admission to University of Oklahoma and accepted a spot at Columbia University. She fantasized about him showing up at the airport to wish her luck; he didn’t. Similar to how she just did, she pretended to be asleep while she cried on the plane to JFK.

Tyler Owens got famous - there was no other way to say it. He was a hot-shot storm chaser with seemingly little regard for the dangers. But Harlow knew; he was calculative and a downright mathematical genius when it came to tornadoes. He completed his degree in meteorology a year early with high honors. He walked summa cum laude. Harlow watched the livestream. When she walked across stage in her powder blue cap and gown, she couldn’t help but wonder if he did the same. Or if he did it when she walked again two years later for her Masters. And again when she walked four and a half years later for her PhD.

She didn’t just run from him: she ran from the town of Clearwater, Oklahoma. Harlow was . . . a smokeshow. There was no denying it. But she was more than just attractive and Prom Queen. She was valedictorian, president of the Beta and Spanish Clubs, the organizer of natural disaster relief programs across the county. But everyone in Clearwater saw her as one thing: Tyler Owens’ pretty girlfriend who would soon be nothing more than a passing face on the street with a baby on her hip with another on the way. And Harlow couldn’t deny that maybe . . . just maybe she would’ve enjoyed that. But there were so many things that she couldn’t do in Clearwater, so many opportunities outside of the county lines.

But Tyler didn’t want that. He found out she applied to more than just UO and laughed at her. He asked what she could possibly want to do that wasn’t already in Clearwater, asked if she thought she’d be able to leave her mom. And Harlow couldn’t answer. She had nothing concrete that she wished for; she had nondescript dreams of moving away. She spent so long being what everyone wanted her to be, she had no clue what else there was to wish for - what else there was to be.

Their argument was one of her core memories, and in the Tacoma, even with the radio on and the thunder nearly shaking the road, she could hear everything like she was there again, that night 2 weeks after Prom as she helped him clean up his gear from his first ride of the season.

-

Tyler threw his rope down against his saddle. “If you hate it here so much, maybe we shouldn’t be together then!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t!”

The empty arena was completely silent. The groan of the tin roof in the gentle breeze was the only thing that interrupted the tense moment.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t move from his spot a few feet away from her. “Is . . . is that what you really want?”

Harlow tried to shrink in on herself, wrapping her arms around her torso, still wearing his sweatshirt. “I don’t - I don’t know, Tyler. The problem is I don’t know what I want, just what everyone else does. It’s just - you can’t understand. You’ll never be able to understand.” She dropped her arms and opted to lean against one of the bull shoots, the cold, rusty metal grounding her.

He just turned around, busying himself with tightening the straps of his gear. He was silent.

“Tyler-”

He shrugged so hard it shut her up, reaching in his pocket and tossing his keys onto the dirt. “Take the truck. I’ll get my keys and my stuff tomorrow. I’ll call for a ride.”

Harlow crossed her arms, “No, I’m not taking your truck.”

“And I’m not having you staying here in the dark waiting for someone to pick you up. So unless you want me to drive you home, take the damn truck.”

Harlow picked the keys up from the dirt. She cried on the way home then in her mom’s lap. After nearly an hour of listening to her daughter cry, Shiloh James brought her daughter to the family laptop and had her sign into her University of Oklahoma admissions portal and deny her spot. Shiloh looked at her diploma from UC Davis hanging on the wall, “Sometimes a fresh start is what you need most.”

-

Now here she was, back in Clearwater for the first time in years. The few times she visited before were quick, a few days at most before she jetted back across the country; she never came during storm season, too afraid to cross paths with him or hear his name.

This time, Harlow had taken a month off work to spend time with her mother. All it took was one call from her mom's nurse Kelly for Harlow to book her plane ride home.

Shiloh scolded Harlow when she learned she took a month of unpaid leave. “Honey, you’re being dramatic. Your coworkers need you more than I do here! Honest. I haven’t felt better.”

Harlow playfully rolled her eyes at her mother and cuddled against her on the couch, pretending once again that she was here for different reasons. “Nah, I think they’ll be just fine.”

She was learning she was really good at pretending. But, maybe she had been all her life.

-

Harlow dropped her mom off at her best friend’s house as was customary per Kelly. Shiloh had long since stopped treatment and no longer cared about keeping distance from her loved ones. So Thursdays became nights for her to spend with Ruth to reminisce on their years together. Harlow planned to spend the night getting drunk and pretending her life wasn’t unraveling, like she wasn’t about to spend the weekend deciding between cedar and mahogany and pine.

Instead, she got a call from a college of hers in New York, Kate.

“Hello?” She answered, not sure what could prompt a call like this at 5pm. The two were work friends, the one the other would drift to during conventions - nothing more. Neither liked talking about anything personal. She could count on one hand the amount of real conversations she’d had with the girl. But perhaps weather could get her mind off the storm brewing in her life.

“Hi, this is Dr. James?” Kate sounded unsure, as though her number may have changed.

After receiving confirmation, Kate started into a spiel about how she was in need of a second opinion on the cells that were forming over the next few days in Oklahoma.

“Wait,” Harlow cut her off, “Are you . . . in Oklahoma?”

Kate swallowed, “Yes, as a favor to a friend. He’s testing out new equipment.”

“I mean - I’m in Oklahoma as well. I can meet with you, if that’s easier. That way I can see the models you’re describing.” Harlow wasn’t sure why she was so ecstatic to help. Maybe she just wanted a distraction, a taste of what Tyler did every day, what prompted him to leave Clearwater just a year after she did.

After half an hour of preparing a bag with her laptop and other essentials for the night she was going to spend at the motel, she was headed towards a town a few dozen miles north. The ride was the same as every ride through the Great Plains: filled with wheat, windmills, and cows. When she finally arrived at the address she was given, Harlow sighed and looked at the backseat, wishing she brought extra blankets. The parking lot was full: there was no chance of her getting a room that night. Nevertheless, she unbuckled, pulling her bag from the passenger side floorboard. She didn’t need to search for the StormParr trucks. They were stark white with the brutalist style logo slapped on every inch of the vehicles. She scanned the group for a second, looking for Kate - or any woman in general.

Kate saw her first, gently waving her over to introduce her to the group. After a while of comparing models and data (most of which was written off by the StormParr team and deemed as rudimentary), Kate got the hint that Harlow was about to snap. In an attempt to mediate, she cut off the tall, broad man while he was in the middle of talking about his data collection, “I’m sorry, but I really do have to run to the restroom. Dr. James, would you mind accompanying me?”

Harlow gave her a thankful look. The two set off to Kate’s room on the second floor. “I’m sorry about all of that. I thought what you said was very helpful. The prediction of rain habits in the area can definitely contribute to the-”

She cut Kate off with a raised hand and a laugh as they ascended. “It’s fine, really. I have a PhD in Climatology. I’m used to being talked over by men. It’s not like they’re paying me, so I don’t really care.”

They were about to start up the second set of stairs when a man called up at Kate, “Well if it isn’t Big City! That was a good call today!”

Harlow would’ve thought they were talking to her if she hadn’t known Kate was surrounded by these same groups of storm chasers for the past couple of days.

Kate rolled her eyes and whispered to her, “Tornado Wrangler crew.”

Harlow felt her eyes blow wide and her blood run cold. She could hear the rushing in her ears and her heart pumping in her chest. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Kate introducing her, “This is Dr. Harlow James.”

She got the nerve to turn to see the group of people. They looked exactly how they did on YouTube - cool, fresh, and close knit. Harlow felt like she was looking into a portal to what her life could’ve been. Harlow swallowed hard, the world spinning around her aside from Tyler. His eyes were locked on hers, his face giving none of his thoughts away. Harlow wasn’t as confident in her own facial features. Of all the things to come out of their mouths, she wasn’t expecting one of his crewmates to know about her.

“Of course we know her!” Boone laughed, “We use her weather mapping patterns to plan our-”

Tyler’s boot connected with his side, making him yelp in pain.

She felt her stomach jolt upwards. Harlow gripped Kate’s arm, whispering one word: “Bathroom.”

The blonde took her up the rest of the stairs. The second the door was unlocked, Harlow made a B-line for the bathroom, falling to her knees and emptying her dinner into the toilet. Kate stood awkwardly at the doorway to her hotel room, acting like she couldn’t hear her colleague vomiting through the door. She walked to Harlow’s duffel bag and rummaged through it until she found her mouthwash.

She mulled over if she should check on her or leave her be and throw the mouthwash bottle into the bathroom like it was a grenade. She was given a few extra moments to decide when a knock interrupted her thoughts. Kate opened the door, expecting Javier coming up to apologize for his crew’s actions towards Harlow but instead was met with Tyler Owens.

She couldn’t hide her surprise, “Oh, um, hello.”

He looked down at her hand and saw the travel sized bottle of Listerine. He tried to peer around her, but Kate pulled the door. He realized how it must’ve looked, “I came to check on her. Is she okay? She looked like she was about to faint.”

It was clear there was a history between the two, but Kate couldn’t tell what exactly it was. She wasn’t sure if she cared either. But she wasn’t about to leave this girl who she brought over. Kate tried to lie, to say that she was fine and just using the restroom, but a particularly violent gag sounded out.

He looked like it took all of his willpower to not push Kate out the way and run to the bathroom. “I just need to make sure she’s okay, alright?”

Kate went to deny him again, but Javier came up the stairs at that moment, talking without looking until he got right to her door, “Hey, Kate, I want to apologize about the way they treated Dr. James. It was entirely unprofession- oh . . .”

Javier sized up Tyler, whose jaw was locked. He turned to Kate instead. “Where’s Dr. James? I want to apologize personally.”

“Bathroom.”

He nodded in understanding when he heard another gag and Kate slightly raised the bottle in her hand.

“Please,” Tyler pleaded. “Let me check on her. She will dry heave until she passes out. She’s done it since we were kids.”

Kate wanted to say no, but the sounds were not letting up; if anything, they were getting worse. And she was not good with comforting someone or with bodily fluids. She glanced between the two, eventually stepping outside and handing Tyler the bottle. “Leave the door open.”

“Of course,” he assured her before bolting to the door. He knocked softly and was answered by a dry heave. He swallowed thickly, his voice soft, “Harlow?”

She made no noise of acknowledgement. He knocked again to nothing. He tried the handle, and it was miraculously unlocked. Once the door swung open, he was met with Harlow on her knees, arms wrapped around the toilet, dry heaving so hard her back arched up and down. He got on one knee next to her, gently running a hand down her back as he said her name. Her body shook with another heave. He pulled the hand towel off the bar on the wall and ran it under the faucet before wringing it out and placing it across her burning neck. That seemed to snap her out of the cyclical vomit-dry heave moment she was having. Her breathing started to deepen and even out as she reached up to flush the toilet twice. The redness in her face started to recede. She braced herself to stand, but didn’t have the strength to do so yet and almost stumbled head first into the counter.

Tyler was quick, “Whoa, whoa, darl- Harlow.” His hands reached out to steady her against the counter. She took deep breaths as she regained her bearings, running her hands under the cool water. She washed her mouth out, taking a swig of the mouthwash he offered. She splashed her face with water. She rubbed away the residual tears that formed during her vomit spell. Her mascara was still smudged underneath her eyes.

“Can you uh, grab my toothbrush and a shirt?” He didn’t need any explanation as to why she couldn’t get it herself. He brought them to her after practically emptying her duffel bag contents onto the bed. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back as she kept her eyes on the running water. She took another swig of mouthwash and swallowed it for good measure. He closed his eyes and turned away as she changed her shirt.

“You good?” He asked. She wanted to throw up again at how soft his voice was.

She nodded. She glanced up and met his eyes for a brief second before wiping her nose with a strangled laugh, her voice raspy, “Great first impression.”

She wiped up the water droplets on the counter with the towel he gave her earlier, doing anything to not look at him or acknowledge how close he was after a decade of nothing.

“Harlow.” His voice was still soft, but firm. “What did those guys say to you?”

She scoffed and wiped her wet hands on her shirt before walking out the bathroom. “Nothing I can’t ignore. I’m used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, putting her things back in her bag that were strewn across the bed, “The usual. No one taking my models seriously because I was the only female graduate in my PhD program and because I’m the only person using them.”

“I use them.”

She pulled the zipper, staring so hard at her bag Tyler thought it might burst into flames, “So I’ve heard.”

There was a beat of silence. “Why’re you working with guys like that?”

That made her look up, eyebrows knitted. “I’m not. I have no clue who they are. I came here as a favor for Kate. We’re professional acquaintances. It was a coincidence we were both here.”

She said too much with that because he immediately asked, “Why are you back in Oklahoma?”

She kept her response short and guarded, “Seeing mom.”

Silence stretched on for an awkward amount of time. Harlow went back to looking at her bag. Tyler’s eyes never left hers.

“Let me take you get food. You just flushed yours down the toilet.”

“No!” Harlow almost jumped back as she heard those words. “No, no, I’m fine.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I ate on the way here.”

“And that’s gone. Before that?”

Harlow tried to do the math in her head. She skipped lunch because she was so worried about getting her mother bathed for her night with Ruth. She picked at an egg this morning but couldn’t stomach it, too aware of the texture of it. She wasn’t about to tell him she hadn’t digested a meal since the night before, so she opted for “A while.”

“I’m taking you get food. Come on.”

There was little reason for Harlow to argue - if she said she was going to bed he’d insist on walking her to her room and then she’d have to admit she didn’t have one, or that she was going to get food herself and he’d insist it was pointless to go alone if he was offering to drive.

That’s how the two ended up at a 24/7 diner, cramped into the only booth available next to the front window where everyone walking past could stare at them. It felt very similar to how Harlow felt when the two were a couple in Clearwater: watched, judged, and laughed at.

The two did not talk. Harlow became more comfortable with looking up, so instead of staring at the plate the entire meal, she was able to get as far up as his nose. His eyes were off limits in her mind. If she looked at them this close up, she was sure she’d feel everything she felt that night in the arena come rushing back.

-

She wasn’t sure how the two ended up in a pasture across from the diner, but she had made the mistake of looking at his eyes when his hand covered hers when the bill came. And she did feel all of those emotions come rushing back. It felt like their argument picked up right where it left off. The tall grass tickled her legs that were now accustomed to fancy lotions.

“I LEFT BECAUSE IT WASN’T FAIR! IT STILL ISN’T!” She shouted at him, hoping no one across the street could hear.

“What are you talking about?” Tyler scoffed.

“I left because the only thing I could ever be in Clearwater was ‘Tyler Owen’s girlfriend.’”

“Would that really have been so bad? A picket fence? A few babies?”

“No! It wouldn’t have! But you got to be Tyler Owens. Hot-shot bullrider extraordinaire. Loved by everyone. I was nothing more than the town smokeshow, and that’s all I would ever be.”

“You chose to go to college!”

“And look where you ended up! Mr. Summa Cum Laude! Why was it okay for you to go and not me?”

Tyler couldn’t hide the shock on his face. “You . . . you kept up with me?”

Harlow nodded. “Yup. Watched the livestream of you graduating. Even though you started a year after me, we still ended up graduating the same year.”

“But why keep up? You left. You went to New York.”

“I was going to UO at first. Wanted to stay close to you. They were gonna pay for everything, can you believe that?” She let out a humorless laugh. “Then we broke up. And my mom told me to go to New York. Get a fresh start. Turns out I fucked up that fresh start, too.”

He knit his brows. “What do you mean?”

Harlow fell onto the tailgate, her feet dangling. She tried to speak but only a sob came out. She hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut, a tear running down her nose and falling onto the dirt. Tyler walked over slowly and apprehensively took a seat next to her. She didn’t move to bite his head off or push him off. After a few seconds, she was able to compose herself to say the words she’d been refusing to say. The ones she refused to repeat to Nurse Kelly. The ones she knew her mom didn’t like. “She’s dying, Tyler. That’s why I came home - to plan her funeral. The doctors gave her until the end of the month. I-I left and never came back, and now I’m never gonna see her again.”

“Oh, baby,” his heart clenched. Of all the people in the world that deserved something like that, Shiloh was the last one. She raised Harlow alone after her father skipped town when she was two. She baked homemade cakes for him on his birthday and included him in Christmas and donated every penny she could to those in Clearwater who needed it. He wrapped his arms around her, and she broke. She held onto his button down and let out the sobs she’d been pretending to not be holding back, the ones she muffled in her pillow at night so she didn’t wake her mom.

She would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for the breeze she felt. It was warm. Like the ones before it, but different. The heat was weighing the breeze down, not being carried by it. She slowly pulled away from Tyler. He tried to say something, but she held her hand out to quiet him. She slowly dismounted from the tailgate, landing on the ground with a thud. Tyler made significantly less noise when he stepped off. Harlow pulled her hair tie out, slipping the band onto her wrist before leaning down and snapping a few blades of grass from the ground.

“Harlow, what are you-” He shut up when she let go, the blades flying away. He understood what spooked her. He suddenly felt the heaviness in the air, the air blowing her hair in the same direction as the grass. Heat lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating a monster cloud. Tyler grabbed her upper arm, “Get in the truck. Now.”

She nodded, racing to the passenger side just as the wind began to pick up. Heading back to the motel was too risky and too far. The best bet was to find shelter in town. Tyler started down the main stretch of road, Harlow screaming out the window for people to find shelter; if it was just her in her rental, she knew that no one would take her seriously. She had no fame and was no household name, but the red truck she was in gave her all the credibility she needed. Pedestrians heeded her warning and turned, fleeing to the nearest buildings. Power began to flicker across the city, darkness rolling in waves as transformers blew. The tornado siren started its song. Tyler had to intervene by rolling the passenger side window up on his control panel once the hail started, Harlow getting pelted as she stuck her head out to yell warnings.

“The hail is enough extra warning for them, sweetheart. Look for a shelter we can go into.”

Her eyes scanned, but the lack of power made it hard to see anything, even with the flashes of lightning. But then she pointed to the right, “Look! A motel! They most likely have one!”

He pulled into the parking lot, not caring how shittily he parked. But to the two’s horror, there were still three people in the lobby and they were soon joined by a mother and daughter. The young woman was laughing at their nervous state.

“Chill, guys, 9 times out of 10 there’s not even a tornado.”

The other two men were arguing about a bad Yelp review. Tyler instructed her to find a shelter, stating he’d round up everyone in the lobby. Harlow never ran so fast in her life. She checked every room, but found no doors that led to a storm shelter. She felt her heart fall to her stomach as she returned to the lobby to tell them they’d have to try and stick it out there. But out the corner of her eyes she saw the empty pool. “Tyler! Over here!”

He guided them all to the door she was at. “We have to run for it.”

The mother, daughter, and shop owner nodded. The other two scoffed, refusing to admit that a tornado was making its way down main street. Tyler nodded to Harlow and she unlatched the door. It swung off its hinges and flew across the parking lot, then she patted the mother and daughter to go, then the clerk.

“This is your last chance! Come with us!”The two others shook their heads, finally starting to understand the severity, but too scared to venture out. Tyler could not wait any longer; he grabbed Harlow’s arm and pushed her out before going last. They caught up quickly, each helping the other three down the ladder.

Her voice was getting sucked away by the howling wind, “Get to the pipes! Hold on! Do not let go!”

She tried to help Tyler down, but he pulled his arm back. “Absolutely not! Harlow, get in and do not wait for me!”

There was no time to argue. She could hash this out with him when they made it out of this. He grabbed onto her torso and helped her descend. She immediately ducked down, making a run for the pipes. Tyler was right behind her, until he wasn’t: the clerk stood up to see the tornado behind them and got sucked to the middle of the pool. He held onto the ladder, but had to let go and duck when a vending machine flew towards him. Tyler fell to his belly, making his way around the machine, reaching his hand out for the man. But the man ignored Tyler’s warning. He got to his knees to reach Tyler’s hand faster. Harlow watched in horror as the man hit the side of the pool with a crunch before getting sucked away.

She was crying just as the mom and daughter were; the screws of the pipes shook with the strength of the tornado that was rapidly gaining on them. Tyler was slowly making his way back over to the group on his belly. She screamed his name, but it was covered by the sound of a train horn. She hooked her arm through the pipe and extended her body as far out as she could, trying to reach him.

He wanted to shout at her, to tell her to get back against the pipes, that he wasn’t letting her mom bury her, that he wasn’t going to bury her. But if she hadn’t done that, he’d be dead right now. Just as he made it back to her and wrapped her body in his, a truck flew into the pool and wedged itself above them. He could feel her heartbeat hammering; he tried to tighten his grip on her, his biceps protecting her head as he ducked his own. He whispered soothing, sweet nothings against her head.

The winds slowed, but her breathing was still hard. He broke first, trying to move to peek around the truck to ensure they were in the clear, but Harlow moved her hands to grip one of his arms. He squeezed one of her hands and placed it back on the pipe. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

She returned to her death grip on the pipe. He was back seconds later to pry her off and bring her above. The mother and daughter thanked them with tears in their eyes. Harlow knew she should be embarrassed at how she was clinging to Tyler the same way the girl was clinging to her mother. But he didn’t seem to mind. He let her cling to him as they waited for the rest of his crew to arrive for relief efforts. Once they did, he sat her in the passenger seat of his truck. He tried to help set up tables with food and water, but Lily shooed him away with two bottles of water.

She nodded in the direction of his truck where Harlow was on the phone, her body shaking from the adrenaline crash. “She needs you more than we do. Get her back safe. We have it from here.”

He glanced between Lily and Harlow. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but he knew Lily wouldn’t let him leave if they truly needed his help, so he thanked her and went to start up the truck just as she was hanging up the phone.

“She okay?” He didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one person who Harlow went to for comfort.

She wiped at her cheek, “Yeah, yeah. Not even a drop of rain. She’s with Ruth.”

That made Tyler let out a belly laugh. “Are we sure they didn’t cause this?”

Harlow laughed wetly, “I would not bet money against it.”

-

When they arrived at the motel, Tyler was adamant on walking her to her room and getting her settled. It was nearing 1AM. Harlow looked at her lap and scratched at the nape of her neck. “So, uh, about that . . .”

He cocked an eyebrow, motioning with his hand for her to continue.

“I was gonna sleep in my rental. There’s no vacancy.”

He looked at her incredulously, “You’re joking, right?”

She stayed quiet.

“So you were just planning on getting here and sleeping in your truck?”

She shook her head, “No, I just wasn’t expecting every storm chaser in America to be at this motel. That or I was going to go home. Kate said there was still vacancy when we talked on the phone. She even verified that there were a handful of rooms left.”

“Well you’re not sleeping in your truck, absolutely not.” He turned his truck off, grabbing her duffle bag he threw into the backseat earlier.

She looked at him questioningly, holding her hand out for her bag, “Then I’m going home.”

“No. You are not driving half an hour in the dark right after you just waited out a tornado in a pool, especially not to be home alone. And you’re not sleeping in the backseat of an untinted rental in a parking lot, especially not one where I have confirmation that there are people here who do not respect you. You’re staying in my room.”

“I can’t!”

“Relax, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Harlow felt her face flush. “That’s - that’s not what I meant. You paid for the room. You need to sleep in a bed without having to worry about your ex-girlfriend who dry heaves as an anxiety response.”

He rounded the truck by the time she finished talking. He reached over and unbuckled her, grabbing her hand to help her down. He shut the door behind her. “I didn’t care before, don’t care now. Come on, we need showers.”

“I’m sleeping on the chair then.”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied sarcastically.

He all but forced her to go first; while she washed all the dirt and mud off herself, he prepared a makeshift bed on the chair with bedding he found in the closet. It smelled of mildew, but there was no way he was giving her those blankets and keeping the ones on the bed for himself.

When she came out in a towel, he nearly tripped over the footstool he was adding padding to. He slammed his eyes shut and turned around. “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, “I said your name like 4 times but you didn’t respond. I thought you were asleep. I have shorts on, I was just coming to get my other shirt from my bag.”

He felt silly talking to the wall with his eyes closed. “Don’t tell me you mean Throw Up shirt.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

He groaned in frustration, reaching blindly for the pile of clothes he set out for himself. He felt for his shirt and tossed it in her direction. The noise of it hitting the wall let him know he missed, but he heard her shuffling to pick it up.

“Thank you.”

-

Tyler was about to scold her again when he opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the room, but found her asleep in the chair. She was curled into herself, legs pulled to her chest and secured by the mildew blanket. He shook his head in disbelief and pulled at the blanket to try and wake her up. She groaned and pulled the blanket back against herself.

“Harlow. Wake up. Take the bed.”

She simply groaned in response, turning to tuck her head farther against the chair.

“Baby, I’m not playing this game. Take the bed.”

Her words were almost incoherent, but he managed to decipher them, “If I’m in th’ bed, then you will be too. M’not takin’ from you.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He said, placing one arm under her back and the other under her knees, lifting her and bringing her to the bed.

He let her get settled and couldn’t ignore her shivers. He reduced the fan speed on the AC before climbing into bed behind her, his back to the door. He kept distance between the two of them, but she was shaking so hard it nearly turned the mattress into a massage bed.

“C’mere.” He hooked his arm around her torso and pulled her into himself. He was still pulsing with warmth from the shower. “You wouldn’t be cold if you had used hot water for your shower.”

He wasn’t aware if she was conscious or if she was acting on instinct, but she curled up into him, fitting like the puzzle piece he’d been missing for a decade.

-

Two and a half weeks passed. And so did her mother. Kelly announced her.

Her first call was the coroner’s office. Her second was Tyler. It had been radio silence since that night in the motel. He walked her to her car and made her promise to text her when she got home safe; aside from that, Tyler was trying to mentally piece himself back together enough to go back to never seeing Harlow James again.

The phone hadn’t even finished its first ring before he picked up. She was sobbing and incoherent, but he knew. He promised her he’d be there as soon as he could; he beat the police. He held her as she sobbed for her mom on the lawn as they wheeled her out the house. She spent every moment since that night with her mom, even those nights at Ruth’s. She savored every moment with the woman who raised her, but it wasn’t enough. She had too many memories of New York, and not enough of her mother. Her visits were so infrequent that her mother's weight loss was stark instead of gradual. But she knew if she had the chance to do it all again, her mother would be the one telling her to do it, that in order to find herself, she had to start anew.

Tyler was one of the pallbearers. After he did his duty, he found his place right back next to her. He held her while she cried, while she laughed, and while she sat there blankly. Everyone in town talked about how good it was to see the two together again despite the circumstances. And Harlow found herself wondering if maybe her mother knew this was how it was going to end all along. That she could be happy in this town. That the storm he caused would only be tamed by him.

And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be pretending anymore.

[patricia-taxxon]

cw: venting about some drama that happened on twitter that many of you were likely not present for, and my very personal solipsistic emotional reaction to it that many of you will find annoying.

So every once in a while, people (normies) rediscover this furry musician called Pent Up Pup, who is a fan of me i think, so I need to be nice. To describe them with complete neutrality, they make music that is completely filled with memes and signifiers of furry kink erotica to the point of parody, and they invite a huge amount of derision like you'd expect. This particular drama storm was triggered by their new song, and it aroused a lot of negative emotions in me, which i'll go through from least to most self-centered.

So firstly, through being so audacious, Pent Up Pup has managed to become the default furry musician through which all discourse flows, normies treat them like the final boss. Everyone needed to have a take, but even more people saw this as an opportunity to bring them down in favor of someone else. Some poor furry rapper called $LEAZY EZ got caught in the crossfire, and her snippet that she uploaded got met with "see? finally some GOOD furry music, this is way better than the one other furry musician I know." And like, yea I'd absolutely produce and mix an entire mixtape for her at no charge, but she had a right to be upset that her big viral break was in service of a bunch of leeches one-upping another creator in the space she was trying to integrate with.

But worse, the main response to her snippet was just... "Oh, finally, furry music that isn't white boy EDM." And like, Pent Up Pup isn't white and imo is way more aligned with alt-rock/britpop, they're just imagining a minority that agrees with them. But also, the more self centered part of me just wants to ask "what about me?" Like imo I'm one of the best in the world at the specific thing I do, and it's not white boy EDM.

And furthermore, in response, every furry musician on twitter has been eager to defend their friend and say that trash talking Pup and uplifting someone else doesn't work when everyone in the scene knows each other. "Don't you know? We're a tight knit community!" And to this I feel a combination of petulant annoyance and RSD, because I have been trying to be a part of that scene and failing for a long time now. Like, I tried integrating into the community when I was first gearing my music in that direction & tried sending my music to the failed beta version of Aural Aliance, and Rinny turned down my track (it was the then unreleased beast / creature) because it had autotune in it. They apologized later (thankfully) and offered me a spot, but like, half of their lineup and also the people organizing the events have me blocked over callout stuff, so I just ghosted them. I've mostly been watching this huge unfair drama storm unfold, making me feel talked over, but then I also have to watch this community that ostracized me band together and show their unyielding comradery while everyone just sidesteps past me in the conversation. I warned you that this would be self centered.

[love-that-we-were-in]

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

1. 

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break. 

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study. 

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining. 

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day. 

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point. 

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?” 

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day. 

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear. 

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?” 

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.” 

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.” 

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home. 

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing. 

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.” 

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish. 

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

2. 

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now. 

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute. 

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose. 

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.” 

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t. 

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.” 

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.” 

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?” 

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected. 

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down. 

“I just think that hat is stupid.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.” 

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?” 

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left. 

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round. 

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.” 

3.

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands. 

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using. 

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that. 

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back. 

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges. 

You’re kind of obsessed with it. 

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you. 

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.” 

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.” 

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.” 

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.” 

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it. 

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy. 

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.” 

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong. 

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off. 

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.” 

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel. 

*

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh. 

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him. 

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.” 

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.” 

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.” 

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. 

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee. 

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.” 

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” 

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.” 

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.” 

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it. 

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.” 

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is. 

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly. 

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too. 

[d1xonss]

H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛

Sticks and Stones

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3k

AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!

The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.

The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.

Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.

Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.

For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.

You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.

You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.

You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.

Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.

But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.

“Hey!”

You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.

You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”

“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.

You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.

A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.

You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.

She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”

You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”

“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”

“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.

She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”

Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all. 

And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.

Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.

His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.

Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.

“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”

You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.

Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.

The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.

Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”

“Get back to the house.”

His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.

There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.

He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.

Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.

You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.

You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.

He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”

“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”

Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.

You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.

And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”

A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”

His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”

“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”

“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”

“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”

The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.

You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”

“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”

You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.

After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”

He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.

“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.” 

He simply shrugged, “Good.”

Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”

“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”

He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.

You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”

“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”

You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”

He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”

~ Thanks for reading!

[thewritingrowlet]

The Freshman, ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon

tags: first time, male reader

length: 5k+ words

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

Today is August 12th, the first day of Freshers’ Week at your university. Professor Son, the head of Computer Science department, had asked you personally to be one of the seniors to lead a group of freshmen throughout the Week and continue to offer help and advice whenever they may need it, even after the orientation period has finished. She told you that she was very impressed that you were able to maintain a 3.7 GPA in the 2 years you’ve been studying while being active as a basketball player for the university’s team at the same time. You were hesitant to take her up on the request at first because you had wanted to take this holiday period to relax and gather yourself after such a stressful semester. However, you recalled the way your senior had helped you when you were a freshman yourself; how he motivated and set an example to you and your groupmates, so you put your holiday plans to the side, said yes, and become a group leader.

Your watch shows 5:30 am, you just finished the morning briefing with the other group leaders and the rest of the Freshers’ Week committee. In less than an hour, the freshmen will start gathering in the football field and you will start your duties as a group leader for these new faces. You are very nervous as you are not very sociable with new people, but you see this as an opportunity to help you be more comfortable being in the spotlight and present in public—the promised payment is too good to pass up as well.

You and the rest of the group leaders stand in a row while holding a sign with the group name and number written on it. You see the freshmen start lining up in front of their respective leaders, including yourself. Some look like they just woke up, others look excited to start their new life as a university student, as you were back then. Initially, no male or female freshman catches your attention with their looks, until the last freshman joins your group’s line. You quickly peek at the attendance list on your clipboard and find the name of this last person: Yoon Seoyeon, from Chungnam Girls’ High School in Daejeon— “that’s quite the distance”, you think. As you look up from the attendance list, you see her walking up to you. Just before she gets to you, you managed to pick up some details from her looks: big eyes, small lips, fluffy cheeks—she’s also wearing a bow tie in your favorite color, light blue.

Lock it in, she’s holding out her hand to shake yours. “Good morning, sunbaenim. My name is Yoon Seoyeon”, she says. You find yourself staring deep into her eyes for a second before replying and shaking her hand; you have never felt anything like this before—is this what they call love at first sight?

After that short introduction, you tried your best to shake off other thoughts that could distract you from doing your job on this opening day. Little did you know, today was going to be a start of something huge for you.

The day went by very quickly for you, as you and your group followed all the introductory programs prepared by the committee. You tried your best to be present for your group throughout the day, sharing your university experiences, offering them tips, and showing them your favorite spots for studying. Most of them seemed engaged and interested in what you’re saying, which you’re thankful for, because you found out that being in the center of attention like this is not easy for you. In the last 15 minutes before things are wrapped for them today, you express your gratitude for them and ask them to be more comfortable with you and not to call you “sunbaenim” ever again, resorting to “oppa” or “hyung”.

After every freshman left, everyone else started following suit and left to go to wherever they needed to be; their dorm rooms, their favorite coffee shops, whatever the case may be for them. You opted to walk back to your apartment, picking up food for dinner on the way, “pasta for dinner feels like a good idea”, you think to yourself.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you heard a buzz from your phone. The documentation team sent a Google Drive link full of pictures they had taken throughout the day, neatly put into folders for each group. You set your food on your desk and start scrolling through your group’s folder. After looking more closely, you notice that Seoyeon was always by your side in every picture, paying very close attention to what you were saying. So, you promise yourself you will try talking to her and find out more about her tomorrow. You feel your heart beating fast at the thought of getting close to her, and you think to yourself, “I don’t think I can sleep tonight”—that’s cap, though; you fell asleep at around 10pm, as usual.

A few hours later, the sound of your alarm wakes you up from your sleep. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but you need to get ready anyway so that you’re not late for the briefing.

You open your wardrobe after showering and decide to dress nicer today because you want to show Seoyeon a more proper style of yours, opting for a red shirt, and a matching combination of dark gray trousers and blazer. You hope no one asks you as to why you’re dressing as if you were going to a meeting with the board of directors. “I hope Seoyeon likes guys who dress well”, you mutter while looking at the mirror one last time before leaving.

At around 4:40 am, you arrive at campus and go to the same spot as yesterday to attend the briefing. The committee explains that we’re having more talks with the freshmen today to get close to them and see if they have concerns or other things they might want to talk about with their group leaders or fellow freshmen. You get excited about the prospect of getting closer with your group, specifically with Seoyeon. You can’t wait until you can talk to her, promising to yourself that you’ll show enthusiasm to whatever subject she might bring up.

Just like yesterday, you and the other group leaders go to the football field and wait until everyone arrives. Unlike yesterday, though, Seoyeon arrives first today. Your heart beats fast when you see her walking up to you with a smile on her face, “how cute”, you hear a group leader next to you say. You shoot him a quick glare which he misses, you don’t want other people to fall for her like you’re about to.

You take a good look at what she’s wearing today; light blue shirt and brown pants, “these colors suit her very well”, you say to yourself. “Good morning, oppa. How are we feeling today?”, she asks. “We? When did it become ‘we’?”, you think, getting ahead of yourself. “I’m feeling great, Seoyeon. I’m excited because I heard that we’re going to talk a lot and know each other better today”. You see Seoyeon blush a little and look away for a second before looking at you again. “Sure, oppa. I’ll tell you everything about myself and I hope you will too”, she says, and now it’s your turn to blush. You take a few seconds to muster up the courage to compliment her. “You’re looking great, Seoyeon, these colors look great on you”, you say to her, hoping that she won’t take it any other way than a compliment. “Thank you, oppa. I noticed that you were holding a blue clipboard yesterday and caught you glancing at my bow tie a few times yesterday, so I figured that you like blue, hence the shirt”. Your first thought is to apologize for staring but at the same time, you’re holding in a squeal of excitement because she has noticed your fondness of blue.

Soon, everyone starts gathering up at the football field; you see that some people from your group have gotten more comfortable with each other, some even have made friends with people from other groups. Seoyeon finds herself among some peers and seems to be comfortable with them, and you’re glad that you get to see how she’s able to present herself so gracefully and elegantly when surrounded by people. Deep down, you hope that one day you can wake up to her next to you with the same smile she has on her face right now. “We’ll see how today turns out”, you think.

You end up spending the whole day talking with your group about all kinds of things related to university life in general and being a student-athlete studying Computer Science. Seoyeon asked you a handful of questions, to which you replied with sincerity and enthusiasm. She was careful enough to not ask about personal details, keeping the curiosity to herself. You wanted to make sure that no doubt lingers in her mind in terms of studying Computer Science in this highly competitive environment. Others also asked for more specific tips for studying after being told yesterday that you’re one of the top students in your department and in the entire university as a student-athlete—you were never in it for the fame, but being recognized positively every now and then for what you’re doing feels good and fulfilling.

The day went by quickly for you, just like yesterday did. Day 2 made you realize that you really can’t stop talking once you start and you hope that you weren’t just spewing nonsense to everybody.

While the second day started similarly to the first, it will end differently. You see Seoyeon sitting at the bus stop, staying behind even after every freshman left and the evaluation finished. Feeling concerned, you walk up to her to see if there’s anything you can help her with. Hearing your footsteps, Seoyeon turns her head to see you, “Oh hi, oppa. I thought you had left already, why are you still here?”, she asks you. “Hi to you as well, sweet—I mean, Seoyeon. Well, you just stole my line, I was supposed to ask you why you’re still here. Is there anything I can help you with?”. You saw her eyes dilate a bit when you slipped, you curse yourself for nearly losing control of what you’re saying. “I-I wanted to wait for you so we can talk s-some more—if you don’t mind, that is”, looking down as she says the last bit. “Sure, let’s talk some more. Let’s go to that burger place, we can talk over some burgers and fries”, you tell her as you point to the burger spot across the street.

Seoyeon stands up from her seat and quietly holds your arm, and the both of you start walking across the street to get to the burger shop. When you two enter the establishment, you see Jeno, your favorite guy, working at the cashier. “Yo, what’s up, man? What are we in the mood for tonight?”, he says, friendly as ever, while glancing quickly at the girl next to you. “Jeno, it’s always nice seeing you here, man. Can I have a Double OG with no tomato and some nacho fries?”. You almost forgot that you weren’t alone, so you look to your side and ask the girl shyly holding your arm, “It’s on me tonight, Seoyeon. What would you like to have?”. She shyly replies, “u-uh, I don’t know, oppa. I’ve never been here before, but I would love to have a burger and some fries as well”, of course the freshman from far away is clueless, you dumbass. “Oh, right”, you bring a palm to your forehead, “well, can I have a Black Montana and some cheesy fries?”, you tell Jeno your extra order—Black Montana used to be your favorite thanks to the sauce they use for it, only changing because you wanted to try other things. “Of course, man, anything for my favorite customer”, Jeno says as he hands you two empty cups for the drink. You fill your cup with some cold water while Seoyeon opts for diet coke. After filling the cups, you look around for a table, finding one in the corner next to the windows—how romantic.

You pull a seat for her before sitting down yourself, replicating the gesture you’ve seen your dad do for your mom throughout your life. Seoyeon mutters a little thank you that sends a jolt to your heart, making it beat like you just ran a few laps around a basketball court. You sit on the other side after setting your backpack down on the floor. “So, what did you want to talk about?”, you ask to start the conversation. Seoyeon looks at you but looks down at the table soon after, so you just nod in understanding. You don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so you wait until the food comes before pushing again.

Luckily for you, the food comes a few minutes later. Two delicious looking burgers, some crunchy fries, and a couple of bottles of condiment. You see a beam of excitement on Seoyeon’s face as she looks at the tray the waiter has just set on your table. She immediately grabs some fries and shoves it in her mouth, making her cheeks round. Soon after, she starts unwrapping her burger and takes a bite, squealing cutely at the taste. You choose to not start eating just yet, paying close attention to how excited she is when it comes to food and feeling the warmth that’s radiating from her. After taking another bite of her burger, she looks at you and notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “O-oppa, why aren’t you eating?”, she asks with a full mouth. “Oh, I was just admiring your excitement for food. You like it?”. “This is amazing, oppa. Thank you very much, I love y—uh, this burger”, she blushes and looks away from you while you choose to act like you didn’t catch the slip and start unwrapping your burger.

Not long after that exchange, you both finish your meals, feeling full and satisfied with it. You hope that this is good timing and ask her again, “what did you want to talk about, Seoyeon?”. Knowing that she has nowhere to hide now, she gathers her mind and says four words that shake your world, “I like you, oppa”. You drop your jaw in shock, unable to say anything back to her for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Seoyeon, but can you say that again?”, you hope that she won’t deflect and repeats it. “I said I like you, oppa. D-do you f-feel the same, by any chance?”, she repeats, maintaining eye contact with you despite the crimson hue on her cheeks. You remain stunned for the next few seconds, until you see tears start forming in her eyes. “Seo-Seoyeon, ye-yes, I also like y-you”, you reply while breathing heavily, forgetting how to breath. Satisfied with your answer, Seoyeon immediately jumps to the empty seat next to you to hug you, tucking her head under your chin. You close your eyes and bask in the moment; you feel like a massive weight has finally been lifted off your chest. Soon, though, you start hearing little sobs coming from her. You pulled her out of the hug to look at her and soothe her, “hey, hey, sweetie, are you okay? Don’t cry, please. I’m here for you”. “I’m just so relieved, oppa. I was so scared that you would push me away—you would never push me away, right?”, she says, voice shaking from the emotions. Your heart sinks to the bottom of the Mariana Trench; there is absolutely no way on this green earth that you would push her away like that, and the fact that she’s letting her emotions show assures you that she’s being honest and sincere. Peck her on the forehead to soothe her, “it’s okay, sweetie, there’s nothing to fear. I’m here for you, always”.

After about a minute, she finally stops sobbing and her breathing returns to normal. She’s dropping another bomb, though. “Can we go to your place, oppa?”, she says softly as she pulls away from the hug. You quietly thank your parents for planting in you the habit of maintaining cleanliness, which means that your apartment is presentable for guests all the time. “We can, sweetie, but are you sure?”, you ask her with the last few drops of self-control, your patience running thin. “Please, oppa. There’s nothing I’m surer of right now”.

You ask her to let go so that you two can leave this place. She wraps an arm on yours, more confidently this time, as you walk to the cashier. “So how was it, guys? Delicious as always, right?”, Jeno asks the two of you. “Amazing, Jeno, always. We’re going, thank you so much”, you give him a fist bump before leaving the place. He gives you two thumbs up as you’re opening the door to leave.

Soon, you two find yourselves on the way to your apartment. “Sweetie, c-can I carry you? I-I’ve always wanted to try it”, you ask, surprising Seoyeon who did not see it coming at all. “Sure, oppa, just don’t drop me please”, with her consent, you ask her to get in front of you and carry her bridal style for the rest of the way, carrying this 50-something kilograms bundle of sweetness with ease. You feel her start to loosen up and lean her head on you as you’re carrying her, transferring the warmth from her body to yours. You wonder how this might look like to people who see you, but it’s the least of your concern right now; you’re at the peak of your life and it’s only getting better from this point onwards.

“We’re here, sweetie”, you say to her as you reach the front door of your apartment, not putting her down as you open the door and enter. You softly put her down on the couch bed, extending it out so she can lie down comfortably. Peck her on the forehead again to remind yourself that it is really happening. “Would you want some water, darling?”, she nods to the question, and you go get some cups of water for the both of you. You then sit next to her lying body and put her legs on your lap and softly massage them. “Oppa”, she softly calls out, “what made you like me?”. Her question is a simple one, but leaves you speechless nonetheless. “I don’t know, sweetie. I just felt drawn to you”, you start, “you’re just so charming, and graceful, and elegant, and— “, your brain realizes that these words sound absolutely ridiculous coming from you, so it tells your cheeks to blush so that you stop. Seoyeon giggles softly seeing you stop so suddenly, “anything else, oppa?”, she challenges. You look at her with a serious face, which made her bite her lip in nervousness, and hover over her. You stay there for a bit and slowly go down for a kiss, nice and slow, to show her your genuine love. Pull away from the kiss and tell her softly, “I love you, Yoon Seoyeon, with my entire being. Would you be mine, my only one?”. “Yes, oppa. I’m yours and you’re mine”, she replies, her soft smile prominent on her face.

You spend a bit more time cuddling with her on the couch bed, saying sweet things to her. However, you’re curious about something, “so what did you want do that you asked me to bring you here?”. Seoyeon stayed silent for a few seconds before turning to face you, “I want you to be my first, oppa”, she says while looking deep into your eyes—that’s one more bomb she dropped on you; if you weren’t already shattered from the previous ones, this one will surely end you. “That would be a huge honor for me, baby, but are you sure?”, you say, still holding yourself back even though blood has rushed to your cock, making you as hard as a rock. “Take me, oppa, make me truly yours”, she replies while softly rubbing your cheek with her hand.

Still in control of yourself, you get up from the couch and carry her bridal style again to your bedroom, the lights turning on automatically as you walk in. You put her down on the bed and move a stray hair covering her face, “you’re so beautiful, baby”, you mutter softly. Your self-control running thin, you ask her one more time if she’s sure about this, to which she replied by lolling in your bed, “take care of me, oppa, please”. You stand up by the footboard and start taking off your clothes in front of her, being confident with your physique as an active basketball player. Seoyeon keeps her eyes on you, biting her lips occasionally as you take off each layer, until you’re down to your boxers, your hard cock making a significant tent.

You see nervousness creeping up on her, “is it going to hurt, oppa?”. You climb nto the bed again and pet her head softly, “it will be uncomfortable at first, baby, but we’ll get through it together”, you assure her. Your assurance helps Seoyeon be less nervous, as she gives you a nod and pulls your hands to her top button, indirectly asking you to undress her. You take your time unbuttoning her shirt, paying attention to her gesture and expression, down until the last button. You open the curtain that is her unbuttoned shirt and see her mounds covered with a simple white bra, “I know they’re not as big—”, you shut her up with a kiss, “please, baby, you’re perfect as you are”, you tell her with a comforting smile on your face. You then start kissing down her entire body; from her neck down to her tummy, earning soft moans from her. Give her a calm smile as you unbutton and unzip her pants, her nervousness returning to her face. “I know I sound like a broken record, baby, but are you sure?”, you ask, even though your patience now is as thin as paper. She gives you a nod and a warm smile, so you pull her up on her feet and take her clothes off, leaving her only in her white underwear.

Set her down on the bed again before opening a drawer of the bedside table to get a condom. Seeing you unwrap one and putting it on, she grabs your arm and tells you once again, very softly, “please be gentle, oppa”. “I will, sweetie, I promise”, you reply before kissing her forehead. You get in the bed again and open her legs slowly, noticing the damp spot on her panties as soon as her legs are open wide enough for you to get in between. You look at her once more before sliding her panties off, revealing her shaved and untouched pussy. “Alright, are you ready, sweetie? I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt that, not even for a second. Say ‘pochacco’ if you want to stop, baby”. “Yes, oppa, I’m ready. I love you with all my life”, she replies.

She gasps as soon as feels your tip on her entrance, “be gentle, please”, she begs you. You give her a nod and start pushing in, making her moan just a bit too loudly. You feel yourself getting past her barrier, turning her into a full-blown woman—your woman. She muffles a moan with her palm as a tear runs down her face. You lean forward and hug her, then whisper softly, “are you okay, sweetie? I love you”. “I-it hurts, oppa, you feel s-so big, plea-please be gentle”, she says as another tear runs down her cheek. “I know, baby, but please hold on for a second, okay? You also don’t have to cover your mouth. It’s okay to let go, you’re safe with me”, you assure her with a peck on the lips and wipe her tear with a thumb.

Straighten your back once more and start moving rhythmically in and out of her pussy, earning soft moans and some high-pitched ones from Seoyeon. “You’re so tight, baby. Such a good girl for me”, you tell her with heavy voice between thrusts. “Ye-yes, I’m your good girl, oppa”, she replies with shaky voice. She’s just so sweet, isn’t she? You promise yourself that you’re going to spend the rest of your life protecting every little bit of the woman underneath you, keeping her by your side until the end of time. A few more deep thrusts and she delivers a breaking news exclusively for you, “I-I feel like something is about to burst, oppa”—her first orgasm is coming soon, and you’re the cause. “Yes, baby. Let go, let it all go for me, my good girl”, you say as you speed up your rhythm. “OPPA I’M—”, she screams out loud as her juice gushes out of her small frame, forcing you to pull out. You lean forward and pet her head softly, waiting for her to come down from her high naturally. “You’re such a good girl, love. Let’s calm down before continuing, okay?”, you tell her calmly, a gentle smile drawn on your face. “What was that, oppa? What just happened?”, she asks, still panting from the foreign sensation. “That was your first orgasm, love”, “an orgasm, oppa? Does that mean I did well?”, “yes, you did, my love, you did very well. I’ll get you some water, okay?”, you two share a small exchange as she relaxes from her first ever orgasm.

After giving her some water and waiting for her to relax even more, you ask her if she’s ready to go again, chasing for your own orgasm this time. “I’m taking your bras off and then I’m going back in, sweetie”, you tell her. You start thrusting into her again at decent speed, making her freed breasts bounce with each thrust. “Yes, oppa, it doesn’t hurt as much now. Give it to me, give me your all, oppa”. Her encouragement fuels your arousal as you deliver deep, solid thrusts into her, chasing for another orgasm for her and your first tonight. She grabs your right hand and brings it to her breast, hoping that you would do something about it. You palm her breast and squeeze it softly every odd second, getting ever closer to your orgasm, “I’m getting close, baby, very close”, “yes, yes, oppa, I think I’m getting close too”, she says while moaning softly. A dozen thrusts and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening—you’re close to the finish line. “Seoyeon, baby, I’m cumming”, you notify her. “Me-me too, oppa, let’s cum together”, and the both of you do just that; you feel her walls tighten around your cock as you’re cumming, milking every drop of cum out of you. Feeling weak, you just fall forward on top of her and hug her tightly in your arms. Whisper in her ear, “baby, I love you so much. I really do”. “I love you too, oppa. My oppa”.

After gathering your strength for a bit, you pull out and take off the condom, tying it into a knot then showing it to her, “this is all you, baby, you made me cum this much”, you tell her. You see her blushing before covering her face with her hands. “I’m gonna run you a shower, baby, wait a sec, yeah?”. You leave her lying down in bed while you head to the bathroom to start a shower for the two of you. You then go back to the bedroom and carry her to the bedroom to start the aftercare—"this was her first time, she deserves all the sweetness I can show her”, you think to yourself. “Alright, baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Stand under the shower and face that wall for me, please”, you tell her after making sure she can stand up on her own, to which she just nods and does as you ask. You start by letting water run all over her then turning it off so you can rub her back all the way down to her legs with some soap, going up and down multiple times to make sure you don’t miss a spot. Once that’s done, you turn off the shower and stand back up while gesturing to her to turn around to face you. She looks up at you with her big eyes and a wide smile on her face, “oppa, I love you”, she says, getting on her tippy toes to kiss you. You lean down and kiss her deeply, “I love you more, baby. Let’s finish this, okay?”.

After getting out of the shower all cleaned up, you put her back in bed and lie down next to her to start the second part of the aftercare. You’re peppering her with pecks all over her face, saying “I love you” after each peck. You’re still curious about something, though, so you ask her, “darling, what made you fall for me so suddenly?”. Surprised with your question, she blushes and stays quiet before answering, “I-I think that you’re a kind and sweet and attentive person a-and heard that you’re a top student while being a student-athlete. I fe-felt attracted to you out of nowhere, oppa. I even asked my mom if this is what they call love at first sight, and sh-she said that it could very well be, so I decided to take the chance”—"what a sweet girl, that was a lot of good adjectives, too”, your heart tells you while listening to her—“and then you showed me your how kind and sweet you really are, and I couldn’t help but to fall even deeper for you”, she covers her face again after finishing her piece, visibly shy about confessing to you. Needless to say, you’re very satisfied with her answer, so you reward her with a passionate kiss, “I love you so much, Yoon Seoyeon, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it. Let’s put on some clothes before going to sleep, okay?”. You get some T-shirts and shorts for the two of you, putting them on for her. You also make sure that her clothes are hung neatly in the wardrobe so that they’re not creased since she’s probably wearing that again tomorrow.

You two get ready to end this eventful day by cuddling, getting ready to get some sleep. So, for the last time tonight, “I love you, sweetie. I can’t wait to spend more time with you in the future”, “I love you more, oppa. Thank you for everything”. With her last statement, the both of you drift off to sleep. You still can’t believe how lucky you are to have her not only fall for you but also call her yours.

[marvel-redemption-omega]

Adam x Bratty!fem!reader

Reader is afab/female, explicitly used

Established relationship; you're Adam's wife

Summary: Y/n has started popping off to everyone lately, but mostly to Lute and Adam, which has caused a few scenes. Sera warned them to get their act together before she has to intervene. Adam thinks he knows just the thing to reel Y/n back in.

Minors DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ ONLY

Explicit content under the cut!

Warnings: Adam, lots of cursing, brief Dom!Lute, mentions of guitarspear if you squint, vague mentions of Lute x reader if you squint, Dom!Adam, Brat!reader, soft!Adam, BDSM/bondage, wing kink, thigh riding, edging, orgasm denial, slight praise kink?, you get used, idk what else you want me to say, there's some fluff in the midst; Adam fucks you senselessly into submission for being a brat, idk if there's more warnings. It's over 10k, I've lost track now.

Word count: 10,792

Make Me

(Not my gif, pulled from Google. If it's yours please lmk and I'll edit to credit!)

“The fuck you looking at, Saint Peter? Do I need to get Adam? Move,” you growl, shoving past the poor angel as you head towards the training grounds for the exterminators. Saint Peter looks after you, rubbing his wing where your own clipped his, sending a worried look after you before flying off to who knows where.

You slam open the doors, spreading your wings and launching yourself at the first exorcist you see. She is coming up to greet you, hand out for a handshake, when you grab it and fly up. Ignoring the startled scream from her, you try to keep steady as you twist, somersaulting a couple of times, and sling her towards a group of other exorcists headed right for you. They try to stop the one you sent flying at them, their wings tangling. You watch as they all plummet, hitting the ground with a harsh thud.

“Y/n!” Lute's voice has you turning to face your lieutenant. You smirk and bow your head slightly, wings twitching just the slightest as you hover and land before her.

“Lieutenant,” you grin, walking around her, wings partially folding behind you as you circle her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?” Sarcasm drips from your words. You rest your hands on your hips and watch as she turns with you, her eyes never leaving you.

“This isn't your normal behavior. What's gotten into you? Have you forgotten that we're all a team? We work together as one, and when you break that uniformity, it creates chaos,” Lute glares, voice cold as she approaches, her own wings stretching out. You know you're her subordinate, but you can't help taking the bait she's dropping. Her wings fully spread and you take the opportunity to taunt her.

“What's the matter? Don't like the fact I'm more brazen? I thought you said I needed to be more like you,” you snip, fully extending your wings as a show of defiance to her dominant display. Her eyes narrow and you both move quickly, flying towards each other. However, in your senseless agitation, you forget that Lute is your superior, in both ability and technicality. She easily gets the upper hand and wrestles you onto the ground, pinning your wings to your sides and you to the ground.

“You seem to be forgetting your place,” Lute warns, her tone sharp and hinting at something else you don't quite catch. The group of angels you sent in a heap arrive, all talking over one another to try and tell Lute what happened. She silences them with a look, not moving from atop her perch on you. “Hush! I saw what she did. Don't worry, Adam and I will be dealing with her,” she dismisses the group with a wave of her hand. Only once they're gone does she let you up, one hand gripping the base of one of your wings tightly, forcing you to back up to the side of the building as she extends her wings, making herself look bigger. You bite your tongue at the feel of her hand in your feathers, walking back until she has you pinned, your own wings shrinking and folding as best they can with a hand in the way.

“What now? You've got me alone? Why don't you just beat me and be done?” You snap, glaring at her boots. She steps into your space, forcing you to look at her. You press yourself back to the wall, irritation written on your face.

“You've got some nerve! You're lucky that you're one of the best I've trained. And you're even more lucky that Adam has a soft spot for you, otherwise I'd leave you broken on this fucking ground,” the lieutenant growls, twisting the hand she's got on your wing ever so slightly. Something crossed between a yelp and a moan escapes you as she pushes against you. “Since you think you can just barrel over anyone, you're going to be waking up extra early with me to do drills. We start tomorrow.” With that, she releases the hold on your wing, keeping hers flared behind her, before taking off. You hear her call for the ones training today. With a mocking snort, you take flight and leave the training grounds, deciding to be anywhere else but near Lute.

“Stupid Lute yelling at me. I didn't do anything. Why's she gotta take her anger out on me,” you grumble, landing back on the promenade. You know that's a lie, you're being a brat, but it's not your fault, you reason. You fold your wings, tucking them under your arms as a habit you adopted from Adam. “Fucking tell me I've gotta do early morning shit. Fuck her, she's not the boss of me,” you continue to rant to yourself, completely missing the golden winged angel. His eyes widen as he watches you storm by, none the wiser to his presence. He glowers before white wings cover his face, momentarily confusing him and turning him around.

“Whoa! Sera! I thought we agreed you wouldn't fucking sneak up on me again!” Adam says, looking up at the seraphim. She crosses her arms as she meets his eye.

“Adam, get your subordinate back in line. She is being rude to the other angels and if this behavior of hers continues, I will be forced to intervene. Saint Peter is not the first to have a complaint with Y/n and her behavior,” Sera warns, watching as Adam turns to watch you. Sure enough, you're shoving others aside, using your wings to try and create more space around you as you walk.

“Yeah yeah! I'll go get her! No need to jump down my throat, that's my job!” Adam dismisses Sera, crouching lightly as he spreads his wings. Sera grabs his wrist, stopping him.

“I'm serious, Adam. Reign Y/n back in or I will have to pull her from the extermination team and move her elsewhere. And if she doesn't calm down there, well, let's not let it get that far,” Sera releases him, turning to greet Emily who is flying up with two ice cream cones. Adam, unfortunately, loses sight of you in the time Sera is talking to him. He groans and heads to find Lute.

Lute is sparring with five exorcists at once, pointing out their flaws as she takes each one down. Adam, not particularly keen on getting a sprained wing again, waits out of the way until she notices him and dismisses them to work without her.

“Sir?” his lieutenant questions, wings folding behind her as she walks up to him.

“Have you seen Y/n? Sera's bitching ‘bout her. Something ‘bout she's being mean or some fucking shit. I wasn't really paying attention,” he admits, shrugging as they walk back out the training facility. Lute smirks at his typical behavior.

“Yeah. She came here earlier and assaulted some of the others. Sera is right though. Y/n was deliberately being disobedient,” she reluctantly agrees with the seraphim about you. To be fair, normally you'd go straight to Lute for a good, challenging spar, so to go after some of the younger and less experienced exorcists was a dick move on your part. Adam sighs and groans, glancing down at his lieutenant.

“Hey, Lute~”

“No.”

“What the hell, you don't even know what I was gonna fucking ask!”

“I know you. I don't need to know what you were going to ask.” Adam just stares at her for a moment, his mask switching to a deadpan expression. It quickly switches back to his usual, cocky smirk.

“Oh yeah? If you're so smart, what was it along the lines of then, Dangertits?”

“You were thinking of having me deal with Y/n instead of you, Sir.”

“Don't say it with such confidence. Bitch,” he throws in the last word as an afterthought, realizing she pegged him pretty well. She stopped and turned to face him, brow raised in question.

“So am I wrong?”

“Shut up. No. Let's just fucking go,” he grumbles, spreading his wings and flapping twice to get into the air. Lute smirks and follows silently. She might be his subordinate, but they both know she's right more often than not.

They finally find you at the local barbecue pit, in the reserved section. Reserved for him, Lute, and you. Lute looks up at Adam, wings folding behind her as she waits for his orders. “C'mon, Dangertits,” he mutters, making his way to you. You don't bother looking up when you're sandwiched between two bodies. The familiar touching of wings against yours immediately tells you it's Adam and Lute. You flip them off and continue eating your plate of ribs.

“Umm excuse the fuck outta you, Sugartits. You have some damn nerve acting like you're so fucking high and mighty all of a sudden. The fuck's got your panties in a twist?” Adam reaches over you and takes a rib, expertly dodging the fork you try to stab him with. Lute remains quiet, eyeing you as you glare at Adam, dropping the fork.

“None of your fucking business. And get your own damn plate of ribs, asshole,” you bite out, wings shifting in annoyance. Adam grins and reaches for another rib, holding your gaze while he does so.

“Fucking make me,” he retorts, grabbing the rib you start to reach for. Your eyes narrow, wings fluffing up fully behind you.

“You fucking absolute prick. What the hell is wrong with you?! I said to leave me the fuck alone. I was eating alone just fine until you two showed up,” you yell, drawing unwanted attention and eyes towards the three of you. You let your wings lift you from between your superiors, glaring down at them. “Stop fucking following me!” You leave the duo with your half eaten plate as well as the bill, hands clenched at your sides as you fly out the doors.

Emily finds you on a cloud, well away from everyone. She flies into your vision, giving you a warm smile. You can't help but return it. No matter how mad you were, Emily always seemed to make you want to smile and try to be happy for her sake. She was like a little sister to you after all. You gesture to another cloud beside the one you're on, letting your wings fluff out in contentment. Emily accepts your silent invitation. Heaven's sun warms your wings as you sit in peaceful silence with the young seraphim. It doesn't last long though. You feel Emily's eyes on you and you know she has something she wants to say.

“Everyone's worried about you, you know. Sera's worried that you're going to fall. Adam and Lute….they're worried something is wrong. Something like you don't want to be here, in Heaven, anymore. Saint Peter also said to let you know he wants to see you when you get the chance,” the seraphim rambles, one of her hands finding yours. You allow her to link your fingers, listening to her. Yeah, you have been a little shit lately, you know that. There was only one person who could help and he was still as clueless as ever. Adam. Well, that's not true. Lute could most definitely help too, you just preferred if it were Adam.

“I promise I'm fine, Em. You can tell Sera that I'll be okay. I'm just….going through something,” you grin, swinging your joined hands. “But, for you, I'll try and not cause any more trouble.” You mean every word. You don't want to give Sera a reason to cast you out. You actually like it here in Heaven. Hell, you even like your misogynistic, egotistical, dumbass husband. Why, you don't know, but there's just something about him that draws you in and keeps you coming back for more. He'd definitely say it was because he's the Original Dick.

“Eee! I know she'll be happy to hear that! I'm gonna go tell her you're okay! Okay? Bye!” Emily lurches forward to give you a hug before racing off to find her older sister. You let out a chuckle at the young seraphim's antics. For someone at least a millennia old, she still had a childish air about her. It was refreshing, a nice change of pace from her older sister, Sera.

Your peaceful mood doesn't last too long. You remember Lute telling you that you have to be up early for extra training due to your outburst earlier. Honestly, you know you can't blame anyone but yourself, but that doesn't mean that you like it. With a defeated sigh, you make your way back to your house.

You slam the door to your home, grumbling and cursing Lute and several other angels. In your anger, you completely miss two angels in your kitchen. Adam and Lute watch you pace in your living room, wings fluttering about. They have a silent conversation before Adam's smiling and Lute is trying her best not to, shaking her head. Finally, the light from your kitchen catches your eye.

“What the hell? I can't go out without running into you and now I can't even be in my own fucking place?!” You groan, feathers floating around you as your wings puff up in your annoyance. Adam smirks, lacing his fingers and folding his hands, resting his chin on them as he watches you.

“Babes, this is our house, not just yours,” he corrects you without hesitation, watching as you shake your feathers and fold your wings. Lute watches you both, only here to act as the middleman if needed to separate a fight. You turn your back to them and head back to the couch, falling face first onto it.

“Fuck off. I'm so sick of seeing your ugly mug,” you snarl, head turned to the side so they can hear you. Adam turns to Lute, nodding to the door. She gives him a look, but he shoos her as he gets up, making his way to you.

“Adam, I don't think-”

“Lute, just go. I can fucking handle this. I think I know just the fucking thing to correct her attitude,” a grin appears on Adam's mask, a ripple running through his wings as he pushes his chair back. You fluff your wings, letting them sprawl, one hanging off the back of the couch and the other dangling on the floor. Lute doesn't offer any further complaints, just opens the door and gives him a look before shutting it behind her.

“Go away, Adam,” you huff, feeling his presence hovering over you. You crack an eye open to see his face inches from your own, mask discarded somewhere. You yelp in surprise at the proximity, your wings flapping frantically to help you pull back and away from him. His grin widens as he slowly stalks towards you, his golden wings unfurling and shaking out behind him.

“You've been rather busy the last couple weeks huh? Been fucking with me and Lute and raising hell up here. Care to enlighten me as to why?” His gold eyes narrow as you search for a way around Adam or out of reach of him and his wings. You know he will use his wings to pull you close if you get too close.

“N-no. I haven't,” you lie poorly, slowly crawling backwards on the couch, and off the far side over the arm. You both stare at each other as your feet land on the cool hardwood flooring. A subtle flutter of his wings has you turning and darting down the hall, wings helping as you try to keep out of Adam's reach, hoping to get to the bedroom before he reaches you.

“You're such a shit liar,” he snorts at you, catching up to you quickly. You don't stop to see how close he is, you don't need to. You can feel his feathers brush against yours just before they fully envelope you.

“Adam!” You squeak out as his arms wrap you in a tight hug, face burying in the crook of your neck. Trying to steel your resolve and not break from such a small interaction, you use your wings to push against his, earning a chuckle from him.

“S'matter, Babe~? Need something?” His sharp teeth nip at your neck and it takes all of your willpower to not cave and moan at the sensation. The feel of his chin stubble combined with his teeth make your knees weak. Thankfully you have wings that help keep you balanced.

“Not from you,” you manage to scoff, still trying to get out of his grip, though your attempts are more feeble with each bite to your shoulders. In the small power scuffle, Adam has managed to walk you to your bedroom, nudging the door open fully with his wing.

“Mm, don't fucking be like that. I came all the way here from work just to help you,” he growls in your ear, voice dropping as he talks. You pause in your escape attempts, a chill running up your spine and through your wings. Adam doesn't miss the shaking of your feathers at his words, gold eyes glinting in the setting light filtering in through the window. He quickly takes advantage of your lack of fight, easily hefting you into his arms bridal style, letting your wings free of his hold. You blink up at him, arms instinctively going around his neck.

“Bullshit. Your head is too far up your own ass to care about me,” you sneer at him, grabbing his collar and pulling it tight so it comes close to choking him. He grins and leans his face closer to you, nuzzling his forehead against yours.

“I'm gonna make you eat your fucking words, Babe,” he mutters. He tosses you onto the bed after breaking your hold on his collar. His wings stay spread, displaying his dominance to and over you.

You turn to him, on your knees, and spread your own wings in defiance. You grin smugly at him, crossing your arms as he makes no moves to change your mind. When he does move, you don't see him. He turns you around faster than you expect. It's easy to pin you, and when he moves to grab something from under the bed, he keeps you down with his wings. You struggle under him until you feel cold metal on your wings. A gasp escapes you as Adam moves to secure your wings so they stay flared out, the metal frame locking as he puts the spines of your wings into each arm. You try to pull away, only for the metal brace to force them to stay.

“A-Adam!” You whine, realizing what kind of hole you dug for yourself. He ignores you, making sure your wings are secure before rolling you onto your back.

“You want to show disrespect to your superiors? Don't worry, I'm going to remind you of your place,” he chuckles, moving to grab something from the nightstand.

You whimper. You know you're fucked. You pushed your luck, especially with Adam, and went overboard with your bratty attitude. But fuck if this isn't what you wanted. Adam had been ignoring you after all. He was always ‘too busy’ with work. Maybe you were jealous of the time he spent with Lute, not like you should be, you knew their relationship, but it did bug you sometimes. Especially when you're his wife. You're aware and more than ok with the swing style relationship you both share with Lute. It was something you accepted readily when you met her after a date with Adam. There was hardly ever one without the other, no matter which way you looked at it.

“You're going to be begging me to stop before I'm through with you. I'm going to make sure you don't forget where you belong for a long time,” Adam's voice brings you back to the present. You look up at him, not daring to move from where he rolled you. He's sitting beside you, hand on one of your knees, hiding something in his other hand. You prop yourself up on your elbows, meeting his gaze.

“Big talk coming from someone who's locked up my wings. What's the matter, Dickmaster? Can't put me in my place with my wings in the way?” You taunt, though there's no real bite to your words anymore. You know you're at his mercy now, but you still can't help yourself since he hasn't touched you aside from the love bites he gave you on the way to the bedroom. You watch as his hand freezes the small thumb circling on your knee. His head tilts and he pulls out a massage wand, twirling it a couple of times.

“Sounds like you need more than just this. On my knee, now!” He orders, setting the massager on the floor for now. You raise a brow at him and bat your lashes at him.

“Make. Me.”

A feral noise escapes your husband. You're dragged into his lap and stripped of your boots and pants with a snap of his fingers. His robe is also discarded from his snap, leaving him in dark jeans and a band tee shirt. Your wings try to move, but the bar keeps them locked in place. The most you're able to do is shift the feathers slightly.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The sting from Adam's hand connecting with your ass pulls a startled yelp from you. Your body shivers and goosebumps appear on your arms and legs. You try to kick and get out of his lap, but his hold on you tightens.

“Want to try that again, Bitch?”

“Y-yes… Make me, Dickmaster.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

You try to stifle your moan by biting your fist, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. You hear him tsk and see his shadow shaking his head at you.

“Nu-uh, that's not a good little bitch. What do we say?” He teases, grabbing your free hand and clicking something around it. You recognize the feel of the metal cuffs, even if it's been a few months since they've been used. He grabs the hand you're biting, and you willingly let him pull it above your head. He holds your hand there, your other being held in place by the chain connecting the cuffs.

“Fuck.”

“Getting warmer,” he chuckles, shifting so you're sitting on his lap. “You're going to ride my thigh until you tell me, but if you cum before I say so, I'll make sure you don't get to cum for the rest of the night. Understand, Bitch?” Your heartbeat feels like it's in your ears as you nod your head, wiggling your free hand to grab his shoulder. He lets you readjust yourself, the hand holding the empty cuff taps your free hand. “Gimme.” You immediately move your hand to his, letting him fix the cuff and click it around your wrist. He moves your hands so your arms are locked around his neck, hands resting on his shoulders with the lengthy chain. His own hands roam your body, pausing at your chest to grope your breasts through your top, one continuing south to rest on your hip after he gropes your ass. “Move,” he commands.

You tense slightly before realizing what he means. You lean forward, burying your face in his neck as you begin slowly grinding on his thigh. Still feeling a bit bratty, not having your fire extinguished just yet, you gently nip at Adam's neck before biting down hard at the junction between his collarbone and neck.

“Fuck!”

You smile as best you can with your teeth clamped against his neck, sucking on the skin until you're sure it's bruising. You feel Adam's wings curl around you, radiating warmth. Your wings block his from fully enveloping you, but you feel the warmth in your wings where they touch his own. Feeling proud about your mission to mark your husband, you let go of his neck with a loud pop. Adam's hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he forces you to move faster on his thigh.

“You have some damn nerve being such a brat, yanno that?” He doesn't give you time to answer. He's sucking and biting a trail of hickeys along both sides of your neck, to hell with what anyone says. Once satisfied with the number he's left on you, he lets your hips go, hands trailing up your back to your wings. Your breath hitches as his hands curl tightly into the small feathers closest to your back. “Gonna have to show you where you belong. Make you understand just what happens to a brat who doesn't behave.”

“Sounds fun,” you breathe, leaning your head on your arm to look up at him, grin on your face as your halo shifts to right itself. He tilts his head down at you, gold eyes alight with something you can't quite pinpoint.

“Always gotta have the last damn word, don't cha?” He grunts, grabbing the chain connecting the cuffs and yanking it over the back of his head, holding it above him to pull you close. He drops the chain as his hand moves to grip the back of your neck, tangling in the hair there. You open your mouth to say something else smart, but he quickly covers your mouth with his own, silencing you before you can get anything out. You try to refuse when he licks your lips in an attempt to get you to open your mouth to him. He growls and tugs the hand in your hair, earning a moan from you and giving him access. He massages your wings as you kiss, only pulling away when you gently tap his shoulder, your signal you need air.

You can't process anything. From Adam's hand in your feathers, you riding his thigh, and that kiss? You feel a bit tipsy. Wanting to keep riding the high that is Adam, you lean back in for another kiss, your hands finding their way into his hair. Sensing your keen interest, he obliges you as you pull him down for another sloppy kiss, teeth clacking and tongues dancing.

“Adam, please… Don't want to ride your thigh,” you manage to squeak out, head resting on his shoulders, hands gripping his hair tightly as you grind down on his thigh.

“What's that? You don't want to?” He repeats, letting his hand untangle from your hair and trail up and down your back. He grins, and you swear his face matches his mask. “Too bad. Brats don't get what they want,” he answers, gripping your hip to keep you moving. He rocks his leg, shifting it with you so it hits just right, causing you to squirm. You whine and try to pull away with no fire in your heart, stopped by his grip, wings, and the handcuff chain. You can feel how excited he is, but you know he'd hold off just to prove a point. With another whine, you push your forehead into his collarbone. He doesn't want me to cum but wants me to ride his thigh? Fine, I'll at least follow one rule, you think, gripping his shoulders to pick up your pace on his thigh. If he wants you to ride his thigh, fine, you can do that, but you're doing it on your terms, not his. “Whoa. Ok, Sugartits, now we're talking,” Adam murmurs above you. You try to ignore him, ignore the feel of his hands on you. You don't care about him right now. He's been so mean to you! He's been too busy for you. Fuck him! You're gonna use him. Yes, you love him, but fuck him, literally and figuratively.

So focused on your own pleasure, you don't hear Adam calling for you. You're shaking your head, ears filled with the sound of your own panting. You feel the way Adam moves his leg under you, the way your wings tug against the warming metal brace, the warmth of Adam and his wings, the way you're moving in and out of sync with Adam's leg, it makes your brain fuzzy. A whine is pulled from your lips as you feel that familiar spring coiling tightly in your stomach. When did it coil like that? Surely you're not already about to come undone? Your fingers dig into his shoulders and you bite on his shoulder as your body shakes slightly uncontrollably as you reach your orgasm. You feel a rumble from Adam's chest, his hands tightening harshly on your hips as he works you through your bliss, slowing you down as your body settles from the aftershocks of your release.

“Still disobedient, I see,” you hear his voice and give a faint nod as you release his neck. You smirk at the mark before leaning back to meet his eye, eyes half lidded in ecstasy.

“Fuck you,” you manage to grumble, using the chain against the back of his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles, denying you the kiss you desperately want, he holds you still on his lap, wings unfurling from around you both and folding to his sides. The cool air sends a shiver up your spine, the chill creeping over your bare lower half. You glare then pout at him as he laughs at your expression, hands running over your legs to bring some heat back.

“I told you already, brats don't get what they want,” he reiterates, bringing one hand down hard on your rear end, making you jump. He smiles mischievously and snaps, eyeing your now nude body on display for him, your wings still held firm in their restraint, giving him a complete view of you. You whine and rock against his leg, your first orgasm barely scratching the surface of your need. “Ah ah ah,” he chides, lifting you just enough to prevent you from achieving the friction you just tried to make. He holds you like it's effortless, and honestly, for him it probably is. Man's like eight feet tall, if not more. You whimper, leaning your forehead into his neck at the loss of all contact except where he's holding your thighs. Your hands pull together and you realize Adam is pulling the chain over his head so you aren't locking him in place.

“On your hands and knees.” You're deposited on the bed, the remaining warmth leaving you as Adam shuffles off the bed and waits for you, gold eyes glowing in the dark. You shift your weight, grumbling, until you're on your hands and knees as ordered. “You know better. Arch your back.”

The sound of buzzing piques your interest enough to listen, turning your head so your left ear is pressed to the soft sheets on the mattress. You feel your feathers ripple and a few smaller ones fall as they poof up against your will. Heat creeps up your face and you quickly bury it against the sheets with a groan. Adam's chuckle is faint, but you hear it as he shuffles around behind you. The bed dips under his weight, forcing you to shift and recover your position for any sliver of hope that he won't keep his word of denying you more orgasms.

“Aww s'matter, Babes? Embarrassed your wings are giving away how aroused you really are? Afraid I'm going to do exactly as I said?” His voice drops lower as he leans over you. You feel his scruff on the back of your neck, his breath hot as he places a few sloppy kisses there. You can't help the moan that slips, and he doesn't miss that you ball your hands into the sheets either. He shifts again and you yelp, the vibration setting not what you were expecting as he holds the massage wand to your inner thigh.

“Fuck,” you bite the sheets to try and mute yourself, still not wanting to give Adam the satisfaction of hearing your voice. He tuts, moving the massage wand closer where you want it.

“Hold this,” he mutters. He smacks your hand away and gives you a knowing look. “Not with your hands.” You roll your head to the side, pulling your shoulders closer as you shift to bring your arms back under you.

“You can't be serious, Adam!” You whine, glancing over your shoulder where he's patiently waiting for you to take the wand. His grin never wavers as you lock eyes, gold piercing through you. “Fuck, Adam, please!” You attempt to bargain, hands clawing at the bed when he shakes his head no. Your resolve is slowly breaking at his slow torture. You'd prefer his break-neck pace instead at this point. When he doesn't budge, you curse him out, eyes never leaving his own as you move your thighs together to hold the wand where he wants you to.

“Good girl,” he praises as he moves from the bed, humming to himself. You try to watch him to the best of your ability, but lose sight of him when he moves to your shared closet. You can hear him pushing clothes aside until he lets out an excited ‘aha’. You can only imagine what he found, considering that's where you kept the more sinful sex toys and equipment. The familiar feeling of leather being wrapped about your ankle startles you from your momentary bliss of the wand. You hum as you feel Adam's fingers easily pulling the restraint tight. He slips a finger between your ankle and the leather. “Too tight?” The question makes you shake your head. “Can't hear you, Angel,” he teases, looking over the curve of your ass, down your lovely arched back.

“No, not too tight,” you bite out, legs slightly numb from the high intensity of the toy he demanded you hold. You jump and let out a small yelp as his hand makes contact with your rear. You quickly squeeze your thighs back together to keep the massager from falling, knowing that would earn you more discipline. Without another word, he's moving to get the second leather brace around your other ankle. Now knowing what he's doing, you quickly answer when he asks if the second is too tight. Once you agree that you're ok and the leather is really not too tight, he nudges your knees apart, clicking a small metal rod onto both ankle braces. The wand lands on the bed with a soft thump.

“On your knees,” he orders. He grabs the wand and turns it off for the moment, setting it on the side of the bed. You push up onto your forearms before using them to propel yourself fully upright to your knees. A soft gasp escapes you as Adam wraps his hand around the front of your throat. You never felt him crawl onto the bed behind you, but you feel his warm chest and stomach pressing against your back, feel his breath against your neck. You try to swallow and calm yourself of the anticipation. He trails kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulders, his hand staying firmly around your neck, holding you against him. The cold clasp of metal doesn't startle you this time, but it does send a warmth spreading through your chest and to your core like wildfire. You feel Adam loop the leather band through the clasp, pulling the collar to rest snug against your throat. He checks once, twice, three times with his finger that the collar isn't choking you before turning you in his arms, maneuvering you so you can see him.

“Safeword?”

“Oh, uhh…kumquat!” You snicker as his grin falters at your words before returning as he throws his head back, howling with laughter. He nods, wiping a nonexistent tear away from his eye.

“Perfect. If I cross a line, you say cumquat, and I'll stop, understand?” You giggle a bit at his words, but nod along so he knows you understand. He fingers the d-ring on the collar before using it to pull you close to him. “I couldn't hear you, Pet, what was that?”

“Yessir!” You squeak, a bit baffled by the new nickname. He licks his lips, nodding and muttering something you don't quite catch. He doesn't give you an opportunity to ask what he plans to do before he kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth. Not like you're complaining. You try to move with him, but he has you stuck with your collar, his fingers still tangled in the ring on the front. You groan against him as he presses his lips harshly to your own. He nips at your bottom lip as he pulls away, panting slightly. You notice his hair is tousled more than usual.

While you're busy staring, you don't notice him undoing your handcuffs. He rubs the indents on your wrists before bringing them to his lips, leaving small kisses. Your heartbeat quickens slightly at the sight, loving Adam's sweet tendencies, you don't even know if he's aware of them. He drops your hands and meets your gaze, his eyes narrowing at you. You shy away slightly and drop your eyes to anywhere but his face, choosing the bed by his knee to be particularly interesting as heat floods your face.

“C'mere. Lay on your back and hang your head over the edge of the bed here. You're going to be a good little bitch and suck Daddy's cock,” he croons to you, one hand cradling your cheek. Your eyes widen a bit at his bold claim, but you nod along, nipping at his hand when he pulls it away. He quirks a brow but you just shrug and do as he told you, doing your best with both your legs and wings restrained. Once situated as comfortably as you can, you tip your head back to look at the shadow looming over you. He's got the wand in his hand again and you hum, hands reaching for Adam's clothed length. He's still in his shirt and jeans, so you tug at the belt loops, looking up at him expectantly. He rolls his eyes playfully and snaps, leaving himself bare to you. You, maybe a bit too eagerly, reach out for him, grabbing the back of his thighs and tugging him towards you. You hear his laughter, but you try to tune him out, desperate to start on him in hopes that he'd return the favor with his hands or the magic wand he has.

“Can I touch you?” You ask as he stands above you. The low glow from his wings and halo give you a small glimpse of his expression, a hesitant pause as he thinks over his words.

“Yes, I'll allow you to touch me. But, if you take your hands off me, there'll be consequences,” he grants you permission. You hum with a small smile, one hand going to the back of one of his thighs while the other grips his length. You give him a couple of strokes before opening your mouth and gently tugging his thigh to urge him forward. He doesn't need you to tell him twice, and moves so his shins hit the bed while you move to make sure you can take as much of his cock as possible.

The angle is a bit awkward for you, but you make the best of your situation as you feel Adam move and hear curses ring out. You hollow your cheeks, allowing him to fit farther down your throat as he pumps his hips. You hum, swirling your tongue around him, the metal barbell on your tongue adding a cooling sensation to Adam's heat. He groans at the feeling of it, dropping above you so he's leaning on his elbows on either side of you. You reach up to mess with his feathers, your other hand moving to fondle his balls. He curses and moans as you bob your head in sync with his movements. You let your hand fall from his sack, moving it to join in his wings. You bring your knees up and dig your heels into the bed, shifting yourself closer to the edge. Your gag reflex reacts at the sudden change, your throat constricting around Adam's cock, but you force yourself to choke through it, keeping yourself from gagging again.

“Ahh-fuck!” He curses, hips stuttering before he pushes himself up, pulling out of your mouth. “Up, on your front.” You whine as you're forced to let his wings go, but quickly do as he says, mimicking your first position with your back arched. He fists your hair, pulling you back to him. You lick your lips as he watches you take him back into your mouth. He grunts at the feel of your tongue running over him before he sets a brutish pace, hand so tightly wound in your hair you feel the subtle oncoming of a headache. You reach up and rest a hand on his hip for stability, the other going back to the base of his wings. You relax your throat and jaw as best you can, tears pricking your eyes and drool dripping down your face.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight when you feel a gentle vibration at your core. Adam has the wand pressed to you on a low setting, his other hand firmly locked in your hair. He runs the toy along your folds, resting it on your clit before circling it a few times. You moan around him when you feel him up the setting, circling the toy again. You try to lean back into it, but a tug on your hair makes you stop and turn your gaze up to look at Adam. He's got his head tipped back, mouth slightly open as he pistons his hips, roughly slamming his cock down your throat. You whine as you feel the wand turn off, before hearing it hit the floor. Adam's nowhere near close, but the way you're whining around him does make his dick twitch. You lurch forward, choking slightly, as he inserts a finger into you. You try to rock back into his hand in time with his hips, earning a hum of approval from your husband. He slips in a second finger, twisting and curling them as you rock between his hand and his own rhythm. The coil from earlier winds faster now, having already had one orgasm spurs on a second more quickly. As you start to move out of sync with him, hellbent on chasing your own release again, he withdraws his hand from you. He smirks at your pathetic whine against him, sticking his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them, never letting pausing or slowing in fucking your face.

“Fuck. Taste so good, Sugartits,” he praises, watching you squirm under his gaze. You narrow your eyes at him, tugging on his feathers. His body jerks and he groans as his hips falter in their pace, before stopping. You feel his release hit the back of your throat and you swallow, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, pulling off of him with a grin.

“Mm, right back at ya, Dickmaster,” you antagonize, sitting up on your knees to get closer to him. He growls, his smile twisting into a sneer.

“You just don't fucking learn, do you, Brat?” He yanks you to your feet by your hair, preening at the yelp he pulls from you. “That's ok. We have all fucking night and you're going to be fucking wrecked by the time I'm done with you.” You instinctively let go of his wing and hip as he pulls you into his chest, eyes holding you in place. You give him a lopsided grin as you pull your hands up to his chest, pressing your fingers into his skin.

“Of course not. It's gonna take more than a little bit to make up for ignoring me all month,” you snip back at him. He lets go of your hair and grips your cheeks between his fingers, squeezing lightly. You just smile as he holds your face close to his, his other snaking between you two to stroke his already half hard cock.

“Hmm. I'll have you in tears in a matter of minutes,” he finally replies, releasing your cheeks, and pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. You pout slightly but quickly try to hide it from him. You might have gotten lucky for back talking so far, but you knew you were going to eventually run out of luck if you hadn't already. Adam snaps, pointing to the bed. “On your back, now.” You scrunch your nose at his odd request, unable to read his expression. It takes some maneuvering as your ankles are still in the spreader bar and your wings are still in their own spreader arms, that Adam notices how difficult of a time you're having. He taps your hip, motioning for you to stop. You do so, watching him intently as he removes the bar holding your legs apart. He steps back once he's got it undone, allowing you to move freely. You murmur a soft thank you to him, a hand on his shoulder as you lower yourself onto your back much easier now. He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed once you're settled, making you lift your head at him. He doesn't acknowledge you, simply replaces the bar and uses it to lift your legs over his head as he kneels at the foot of the bed.

Your face flushes as you realize Adam is about to eat you out, a rarity from him for sure. He flashes you a grin before kissing up your legs to your thighs. He nips and kisses your inner thigh before biting harshly. You let out a small whine, reacting to the pain by trying to yank your leg back. Of course the bar and Adam stop you from getting anywhere, and your leg twitches while you whimper, balling the sheet into your fists at your sides. Your muscle shakes, pain and ecstasy flooding you, quickly turning you into a panting mess. Adam presses a kiss to the bruise he's left, moving to your other thigh to leave a matching mark there. Your toes curl as his teeth sink into your flesh, a long whine pulled from you as your muscle tenses before relaxing under Adam's tongue.

“Adam, please! Don't tease,” you cry, reaching down to bury your fingers in his messy hair. He hums as he nips at your thigh, sucking another, smaller hickey.

“Don't tell me what to do,” he rumbles, breath tickling your leg. You can't help the small laugh that finds its way out as he hovers over your mound, staring at you intently. How can he be so calm right now, you think.

You lift your head, breath hitching as you watch as your husband slowly licks straight up your folds, never breaking eye contact. You feel your face heat up, and you drop your head back onto the bed, tugging gently on his hair. He lets out a chuckle, nuzzling your thighs before pulling you closer, arms wrapped under your thighs and on your back. He laps at you slowly, humming in contentment as you squirm under him, trying to grind down on his face. He dips his tongue inside, finally, and you arch your back, chancing a glance down at him again. His eyes are closed as he draws random patterns with his tongue. After a few minutes, he pulls back, sucking your clit into his mouth. You suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he hums against you, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine.

He wiggles one hand out from under you, snapping his fingers. The spreader bar, keeping your legs apart, disappears, and you feel his wings gently move your legs out to rest over his shoulders. You stretch one leg out, hooking the other around his neck. He presses a kiss to one of your hickeys, looking up at you. He covers your clit again, sucking harshly as he slips a finger in you, moving it slowly. A gasp leaves you, feeling your stomach tighten at the sudden intrusion. He wastes no time in adding a second finger, pumping and twisting them at just the right angle to make you squeak out his name. He slows his ministrations as he feels your pussy clench around his fingers. He picks up speed again before slowing down, repeating the cycle each time you squeeze his fingers.

“Adam, please, I'm so close,” you pant, hands loose in his hair. You gently stroke through the messy brown strands, eyes shut tight as you try to hold onto the edge of bliss.

His eyes glint with mirth and mischief. He pulls away fully, smiling softly at your cry of protest. “I know I said earlier that if you came before I told you, you wouldn't get to the rest of the night…but now, I'm thinking that was a bit harsh.” There's something in the way he says it that makes you not believe him. You don't know why, and you quirk your brow up at him in silent question, moving your stretched leg to cross the other so you lock Adam in place. He definitely just edged you, you've been on the receiving end of that trick one too many times, but something is different. He's up to something. “So, how about I let you cum,” he starts and you nod quickly, squirming to try and grind on him. He laughs and holds your hips down with practiced ease. His wings lightly trail on either side of your face, down your neck, to your hips softly. “You want to cum for me, Babe?” He asks, dipping his head to lick you teasingly. You don't answer, your brain fuzzy at what he's just offered you. When he nips at your stomach do you snap your eyes to his, nodding in response. “Can't hear you, Sweets.”

“Fuck me… God, yes! Adam, please, please, let me cum,” you beg, using your legs to pull your husband closer to where you want him. His eyes narrow, tongue delving back into your folds. He swirls his tongue, constantly changing his rhythm, licking, nipping, sucking, and lapping at you fervently. You squeeze your thighs, pulling Adam closer as a result. “Adam, please, please, please!” You beg, tears threatening to spill as you feel your stomach contract as you're brought closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.

“That's right, Sugartits. Cum for me. Cum on Dickmaster's tongue,” Adam praises, watching you as he turns his focus back to sucking on your clit, slipping two fingers in and curling them. With a shout of his name, you feel a wave of bliss wash over you. Adam hums as he works you through your release, your legs squeezing his head with the aftershocks. Your gaze snaps down to his, eyes wide in realization. He's not had a change of heart, he's just twisting what he said before. You feel your stomach drop as he pulls back a little, giving your slightly over-stimulated clit a break. His tongue darts out, licking his chin. His smug grin tells you he's about to say something smart, like usual. “Damn, Babe, if I'd known all it would take to rile you up and make you this wet for me is to ignore you, I'd have done it sooner.” You want to hate him and his stupidly perfect face, but dammit if he isn't your idiot. You try to glare at him, but your heartbeat and panting leaves little room for anything other than flustered to show.

“Fuck you, Adam,” you manage to grumble, leaning your head back into the sheets, massaging his scalp. Honestly, you don't know which is the worse of two evils; being edged all night or being over-stimulated to the point of tears.

“In a bit, Babes,” he replies, scissoring his fingers in an attempt to bring you back to the edge. “Be a good girl and keep cuming for me.” He snaps with his free hand, watching as a sash ties your wrists together with a bow knot. You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his silly antics.

You've lost count how many orgasms Adam has pulled from you now. All you know is if he keeps the wand on you, you're not going to last much longer. You tug at the satin sashes holding your wrists together above your head, whining as you feel another orgasm wash over you. Your nose burns as the threat of tears forms behind your closed eyelids. “Adam,” your voice is hoarse as you call out to your husband, eyes opening to find him hovering above you, wand nowhere in sight. As a matter of fact, you don't even hear it anymore.

“Shh,” Adam cooes to you, pulling one of the loose ends of the sash, untying the bow and releasing your wrists from their binds. “Think you can do something for me? I know you've already done so much, been such a good girl,” he praises, pressing light kisses along your jaw. You whimper, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. You feel him shift above you, his wings curling around you both as he fists his cock. “Think you can take one more orgasm, Sweets?” He murmurs against your neck, rubbing the head of himself against your folds. You whine, tilting your head to give him more access.

“I-I don't know. ‘M sore,” you whisper back, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. Instinctively you intertwine your fingers with his as he moves his free hand to your own.

“Come on, just one more, Pretty Girl? One more for me?” He urges, gently squeezing your hand. When you squeeze his hand in reply, he quickly sinks down until your hips meet. You shift your hips, nearly purring with the stretch of him.

“Fuck, feel so full, so good, Dickmaster,” you return the praise, turning your head to look at your husband. His face flushes lightly and he glances away, a quiet ‘shut up’ coming from him. You smile at his reaction, moving your hand from his shoulder to his cheek, cradling it gently. He turns his head to press a soft kiss to your wrist, nuzzling your hand. “I love you, Adam, but for fuck's sake, please fucking move,” you groan, bucking your hips up into him. He chuckles at your renewed enthusiasm and pushes your intertwined hands into the mattress as he shifts his weight so he's evenly over you.

He obliges your demand, slowly pulling out before sinking fully back into you, finding a slow, methodical rhythm. You sigh in contentment as you roll your hips in time to meet his, a shudder running down your spine as he fills you over and over again. It's such a drastic change from the intensity of the last couple of hours. Adam's shift from Dominant to soft-Dominant is so fast that you swear you should have whiplash. His wings brush against your shoulders, your wings, your sides, and they're so warm! You shiver in pleasure under Adam, throwing yourself off rhythm. You feel his chest rumble with laughter as you try to match his pace again, eyes closed, brows knit in focus. You gasp when he angles just right, hitting deeper in you. You grip his hand tightly, moving the other to his shoulder again in an attempt to pull him closer.

“Shh. There's my good girl. Do you feel good? Like when I hit right there,” he emphasizes his words with a particular hard thrust, hitting your g-spot. You yelp, bucking against him as a result. “Yeah? There?” He slips his wings under you, leaning back and pulling you with him as he sits up. He takes care not to shift too much, keeping himself buried in you as he adjusts you in his lap. He gently pulls his hand out of your grasp, moving to hold your hips as he helps support you, helping rock you back and forth on him. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck while you bounce on him. You feel his hands under your thighs, lightly cupping your ass as he helps hold your weight when your legs start to give out. “Can my baby girl give me one more? Think you got one more for me?” He whispers into your hair, leaning his head against yours, bucking up into you as you still, leg muscles too abused to continue your movements. You nod against him, panting as you try to focus on the feeling of him; his smell, his warmth, his familiarity, it all invades your senses and fills you with peace.

Adam holds you steady in his lap as he starts to quicken his pace, losing his rhythm from before. He slips one hand between you both, thumb quickly finding your clit again. You shudder and cry at how sensitive you are, shaking your head against his neck, babbling nonsense. He mumbles soft reassurances in your ear, pulling you down as he thrusts up.

“C'mon, Sugar, cum for Dickmaster. Cum on the Original Dick,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers digging into your skin. You whimper as Adam hits your g-spot as he talks, giving you that final push over the edge. You cling to him, legs shaking as your body tries to calm while he's still pistoning into you. You feel his other hand move back to under you, helping support you. You dig your hands into the base of his wings, gently tugging and nipping at his ear. He lets out a strangled gasp as his pace falters, getting sloppy. “Gonna fill you up, Babe. Gonna fill you so fucking full,” he growls, biting down on a bruise from earlier, eliciting a mixed cry of pain and pleasure from you. You clench around him as he pulls you down hard, hips stuttering as he groans.

It's quiet, save for the panting coming from you both as you slowly come down from your highs. Adam rubs your hips, kissing the bruises on your neck as you slump on him, hand gently brushing his feathers from where you were gripping them. His wings unfurl from around you, taking their warmth, and causing goosebumps to once again overtake your skin.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips as he lays you down, pulling out with a grunt of dismay. You chuckle softly, eyes closing when he lays your head on your pillow. You feel him messing with the collar, can hear the clasp as he undoes it, but you can't be bothered to make a move to assist him. You hear him laugh as he pulls the clasp end, the leather warming your neck as it pulls across your bare skin. You feel the bed dip as he shifts down towards the foot, repeating the motions for both ankle braces that once held the spreader bar.

When he looks back at you, he notices the gentle rise and fall of your chest, signaling you're asleep. He sighs, heading to the bathroom to clean himself and get you a warm washcloth. He steps into the bathroom and grabs the gold washcloth, turning on the tap, waiting for it to warm up. Once he's satisfied with the temperature, he lets the cloth fully soak before wringing it out and returning to you after shutting off the tap. He tries to ask you if you'd be ok with him gently cleaning you. When you don't answer, he snorts out a laugh and gently nudges your legs apart, trying to be as gentle as possible. He tosses the rag into the hamper against the wall, climbing into bed beside you. He tugs you close, slightly surprised when you roll onto his chest. He hums and cradles your head, pressing a kiss to your crown and snapping a blanket over you both.

“Goodnight, sleep well, my Angel,” he says, wings spreading wide and curling them around you.

___________________________________________

(Oh, did you think it was done? Oh no, Sweetheart, there's more. 😘)

The sound of knocking rouses you from your slumber. You groan and nuzzle into the warmth below you, trying to ignore the sound, hoping if you don't answer, whoever it is will go away. The door opening has your eyes snapping open. You move to push yourself up, but two arms wrap around you, keeping you in place. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. With your back to the door and being trapped under Adam's arms, you won't be able to fight back. A familiar shadow pushes open the cracked door, letting out a sigh at the sight of you. Lute pinches the bridge of her nose as she steps over to the bed, prying Adam's arms off you. She glances at you without a word, eyes trailing from your neck to your back. She crawls onto the bed, fingers quickly unlocking the brace holding your wings.

A gasp escapes you, eyes squeezing shut as you are finally able to move your wings. They're stiff as can be and they kind of hurt from being forced straight for the night. Lute sighs, holding out a hand for you. You take it hesitantly, but curiosity gets the better of you. You trust her, even if you're at your most vulnerable, and nude, in front of your lieutenant. She pulls you off the bed, towards the bathroom where she quickly starts a bath, getting the water set to the perfect temperature.

“Get in,” she orders quietly, sitting on the side of the tub. You blink, tilting your head as you obey her without question, the fire of the last month extinguished with last night's much needed treatment.

“Join me?” you ask, stepping over the side and sitting in the water with her help, wings folding close to your sides. She stares at you before nodding subtly. You watch as she strips and sets her clothes on the counter, grabbing two towels, resting them on the side of the tub.

“Turn around, I'll help you preen,” she offers, stepping into the large tub, sitting behind you. You turn your back to her, head slumping forward as she deftly runs her fingers through your feathers, straightening those that are crooked or twisted. You shudder as her hands work your feathers, and you can't help the whimper that you let out as she continues preening your wings for you. If she heard you, she doesn't say, so you don't mention it, trying to focus on anything else besides the feeling of your feathers being messed with. You grip the side of the tub when you feel her hands massaging the spines of your wings. The warmth from the water and the massage help make them feel a bit better.

“Thank you.” You know you don't have to say it, but you also know it's appreciated. “And, I'm sorry. For being a brat and for taking out my frustration on the other exorcists,” you start to ramble, eyes blurry as tears threatening to fall. Lute spins you around, gently cradling your chin in her hand, forcing you to look her in the eye.

“You're good now? Not going to be trying to harm our exorcists?” When you nod in agreement, she gives you a small smile, a rare gesture she keeps reserved for those close to her. “Good. Once you're done here, meet me at the compound,” she continues, stepping out and wrapping one of the towels around herself. You deadpan.

“You mean I still gotta meet you for those morning trainings?” You whine, eyes following your superior. She sends you a wink, leaning over the side of the tub so she's at eye level.

“Absolutely. Just because you got off the hook easily with Adam, doesn't mean I'm not going to punish you too,” she chides playfully, pressing a swift peck to your lips as she slips her clothes back on. “I'll see you at the compound in twenty minutes.”

She's gone before you can protest. You drop your hands into the water, groaning as you realize just how much of a mess you've made with being a brat.

Fuck! I still have to go apologize to Saint Peter too, you sink into the water, not looking forward to your day.

Taglist: @miss-menhera @fizzy-fuzz @atttwoood