#i'm so thrilled to have her. i'm so so beyond thrilled

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Goodbye nectar barrel and Annie Yolkley. We will have to make do with Baarry White, Moojito and Motherclucker for the next while.

Delphine is the first to wake and as we know, the early bird catches the bachelorette unattended - and gets to spend a little quality time with her before the rest of the household stirs.

Briar is having a Morning. Elsewhere Lilac is getting showered with compliments by Struan and Delphine, over the romantic setting of a stack of dirty dishes.

The atmosphere over breakfast is very convivial, but we have to cut it short. Chore montage hour occurs early as today, we are going on some solo dates!

Fittingly with the budding (whomp whomp) friendship developing between the two, Briar and Jerrod are our gardeners, while Jayla does the handiness grind, Struan fishes - and while Cassie has been handling her hot-headedness decently, we decided that some wellness wouldn't hurt.

With Moojito the closest thing on the farm to a horse, Delphine does the milking and fares splendidly. Also Lilac, what in the Watcher - now you’re autonomously reading Beyond Big and Bad? 

Rory and Lou deserve better.

And then it's time to head off-site. Cassie and Delphine were our successful Crumplebottees, and while Jerrod didn’t get bagged, Aggie surely would have exploded had she seen what went on between him and Lilac. For these dates I have Lilac perform one friendly and one flirty interaction per contestant. They are given three hours on the lot.

Going purely by alphabetical order, Cassie has the first date. I would likewise be suspicious if Ted Roswell were my bartender - don’t turn your back on him, ladies.

Cassie was very flirty. Lilac gained a sentiment towards her and they are now good friends. The date is going well but alas, the lure of the arcade machine and jukebox prove too much.

Delphine arrives next, and I send them to sit together.

I said, sit together.

Good gravy.

And oh yeah, Lilac, the duckface is peak date behaviour.

Have you been taking some tips from Dodo during his Do-dud era? What’s next - a fart? In spite of both this - and the Great Divide between them - the date is a success.

As usual in a public space, PARANOID traited sim Jerrod arrives with some scared moodlets, so I thought that Lilac could ‘suggest visualisation techniques’ as her friendly interaction. They then had their first kiss.

(I don’t know why the two of you are suddenly so bashful, given what went down on Day One…)

Ted is not thrilled.

Back at the farm it's a late dinner and general friendliness, but Tumblr says I'm out of pictures so I guess that's it for today.

Thank you for holding down the fort, Baarry White.

strangerville lot by @whyeverr

lilac's bisexual flag shorts by @acidheaddd (werewolves gp required)

@changingplumbob @lindyloosims @jonquilyst

@bakersimmer @simstagramsomeone @tipsy-clouds

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Devil's Night~

gosh, i'm so happy. i really love this idea. it is inspired by @things-arent-what-they-seem66's AU of adam and lilith switching places.

i know harvest is over but i have a few more things to write!

hope you all enjoy it!

part 01 - part 02

@adamsappleweek

Hell felt different now. Smoke hung heavy, thicker than usual, as though mourning in silence, and the very ground under Lucifer’s hooves pulsed with a faint, restless throb, like a wound struggling to close. He stood in solemn stillness, his back perfectly arched, hands folded over the twisted surface of his apple-wood cane, fingers tapping rhythmically as if to an unseen clock counting down something. His gaze, red and yellow like smouldering embers, fixed on the lifeless form of Adam sprawled on the darkened ground, surrounded by a shimmer of golden liquid and the soft glint of fallen feathers.

Adam lay motionless, eyes shut, lips the colour of a fading bruise. Lucifer’s throat tightened. Part of him wanted to whisper thanks to his daughter, Charlie, for guarding Adam’s body from the ravenous cannibals of the underworld, but he knew if he opened his mouth, his voice would crack, betraying him.

The silence pressed in, cold and oppressive, creeping into his bones. Hell was hot, stifling, but Lucifer felt chilled to his core—a hollow, biting emptiness that gnawed at him. His gaze remained unbroken, staring with a strange, desperate hope that this was some twisted joke. Perhaps any moment now, Adam would shift, laugh in that carefree, Edenish way of his, and sit up, as vibrant and stubborn as ever. But Adam remained still, silent, chest unmoving. An uncontrollable shiver ran through Lucifer, twisting painfully in his stomach.

He had never truly believed Adam could die. He had always assumed—no, convinced himself—that Adam would outlive them all, his spirit too relentless to surrender. And somewhere, hidden in the darkest corners of Lucifer's heart, was a naïve sliver of hope that Adam would eventually come back to him. That the bond they had once shared in Eden, a bond so profound it had nearly eclipsed the heavens themselves, would find a way to mend. They would rebuild, somehow. It would be different, yes, but they would laugh together again, walk side by side once more. Those stolen moments in Eden, when Lucifer was Adam’s guardian angel and Adam, his purpose… those memories clung to him, a bittersweet poison he couldn’t let go of.

Back then, Adam had been his everything. His duty, his joy, his reason to exist. Lucifer remembered the thrill that had sparked through him, the first time he heard the voice of God declare his purpose. He was to be Adam’s protector, his guide, his companion in that boundless garden. And he had thrown himself into that role, relished it. He had loved Adam in a way he hadn’t understood at the time. The garden had been theirs alone. No one else existed in that timeless paradise, only him and Adam, with eternity stretched out before them like a golden promise.

But then Lilith entered the garden, and everything had unravelled. He thought he had loved her, thought she understood him, saw him for who he truly was beneath the wings and heavenly light. He had let his heart slip through his fingers, foolishly entrusting her with every secret, every fractured part of himself. He had given her everything: a home, a family, the taste of power. Yet, for her, it was never enough. She wanted more, always something beyond his reach, until she had finally abandoned him and Charlie the moment something more alluring came her way. The emptiness she left was raw, a void gnawing at him even now.

He had tried to convince himself he deserved it—that he was vile, selfish, the snake of Eden. He had thought he deserved every torment she dealt him, every moment of betrayal. He had hurt Adam, and that wound, though buried, had never fully healed. He could still see Adam’s green eyes, filled with tears and betrayal, piercing through the centuries. That look had seared itself into Lucifer’s soul, a scar he tried endlessly to ignore. The first betrayal had been shattering. But there were others. With each one, he had watched something precious in Adam’s eyes die, replaced by a steely resolve, a silent ache that mirrored Lucifer’s own.

During their last battle—the one that had forever severed the fragile thread between them—Lucifer had let slip a remark about Eve. He had done it to provoke Adam, to elicit some reaction, any reaction, just to feel Adam’s gaze on him again, even if it was filled with fury. But Adam’s reaction hadn’t been what he’d expected.

That fleeting hint of betrayal in his eye—the exact shade Lucifer knew so well—had cut deeper than any physical blow could. Adam hadn’t been blind to it, hadn’t let it slide as Lucifer had hoped. The anger had transformed into something colder, something Lucifer couldn’t quite name, but it lingered, long after they parted.

Now, standing here, watching Adam’s motionless form, Lucifer felt the full weight of those mistakes crashing over him, a tidal wave of remorse he could no longer fend off. Every unspoken word, every fractured promise, every fleeting glance they had shared in Eden came flooding back to him with agonizing clarity. The irony was sharp—Adam, his purpose, his only joy, lay gone, and Lucifer was left adrift, lost in a void he had fashioned for himself. The garden, their laughter, their whispered secrets beneath the endless, star-strewn sky… all of it had turned to ash, leaving Lucifer alone with nothing but the ghosts of memories that would never fade, haunting him like shadows he could never escape.

Lucifer clenched his eyes shut, the whispers of memories swelling in his mind, pressing into the silence until they filled the air around him. He could hear it all—every laugh, every teasing remark, every stolen moment under Eden’s endless skies. The phantom echoes of their laughter rang through his ears, so vivid it felt as if Adam were right there beside him again, as though any second he’d feel Adam’s hand slap his back or hear him call his name with that familiar, playful lilt. He could almost smell the dewy grass and the scent of fresh, untainted earth that had once been their playground, their sanctuary.

They had been so close, he and Adam, so tightly bound by a friendship that felt eternal, unbreakable. Lucifer’s heart had belonged entirely to Adam in those days, every bit of him dedicated to his charge, to his purpose. Adam had been his light, his reason to be, his only true companion in the vast, bewildering beauty of the garden. And yet, Lucifer had lost it all, torn it apart with his own hands, with his own selfish heart. He’d destroyed something precious, something he thought could never be lost. He’d always believed they’d somehow find their way back to each other. That one day, Adam would look at him with those green eyes, softened with forgiveness, and they’d be… something again. Friends, perhaps. Or more.

A soft, broken sniff escaped him, and he forced his eyes open, the agony tightening in his chest as his gaze fell once more on Adam’s still, lifeless body. His sharp teeth clenched as his hooves trembled beneath him. He took a faltering step forward, his legs weak, as if the weight of centuries was pressing down on them, the memories and regrets dragging him down. His knees felt brittle, ready to buckle as he moved closer. His eyes burned, a stinging heat prickling at them, growing worse with each step until he found himself standing directly over Adam’s body. He looked down, his chest tight, his breath ragged, hardly daring to believe this was real.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice barely a rasp, clinging to some thread of hope that seemed to slip further from his grasp. His gaze was fixated on Adam’s chest, willing it to rise, to betray some hidden breath.

“Hey, oi… this isn’t funny.” His claws tightened around the apple-wood cane, his knuckles whitening, desperate to ground himself against the unrelenting horror of the truth. “Adam, this isn’t funny. Stop… stop playing around.”

His voice cracked, shaky and hollow. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he searched Adam’s face for any sign of movement, any flicker of those warm, golden eyes. But Adam remained still, lips tinted blue, his skin pallid under the dim, smoky light. Lucifer’s hands trembled, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees, his cane clattering to the ground beside him.

“Please…”

The word slipped out, soft and broken, barely a whisper. He reached out a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against the cold skin of Adam’s cheek. The chill bit into him, a harsh, unyielding reminder that this wasn’t a nightmare he could wake from. He closed his eyes again, unable to bear the sight of Adam like this, and the memories surged back once more, flooding him with bittersweet echoes.

“Do you remember, Adam?” he murmured, voice barely holding together, his hand resting gently against Adam’s cheek. “Do you remember… the nights we’d talk until the stars began to fade? When we’d chase each other through the trees, laughing like nothing else in all creation mattered?”

His voice wavered, choked by the memories, by the weight of a love he’d buried so deeply he’d almost forgotten how much it hurt.

The memories of Eden shimmered behind his eyes—memories of Adam grinning, his face lit up with that carefree, boyish charm that Lucifer had adored. Memories of Adam leaning on him, both talking under the vastness of the heavens, lost in their own world, a world they had once believed would never end.

But it had ended. He’d been the one to end it.

And now, here he was, left alone with nothing but his regrets and the fading whispers of a love that could never be repaired. His shoulders sagged as he leaned closer, his forehead almost touching Adam’s. He spoke again, his voice barely more than a breath, as though he feared the silence would shatter beneath the weight of his words.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” he whispered, the confession torn from him like a piece of his soul. “I’m so… sorry.”

But Adam remained silent, cold, unyielding, and for the first time, Lucifer understood the full extent of his loss, the emptiness that would haunt him for eternity. His hand slipped from Adam’s cheek, his head bowing as the first, silent tear fell.

Lucifer shuffled closer on his knees, inch by inch, his face warming with a painful flush as his eyes misted over.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, voice quivering as he leaned over Adam’s body.

His fingers trembling as they reached out, brushing just the edge of the bloodstained fabric. He wanted to touch Adam’s hand, to feel that familiar warmth once more, but he couldn’t bring himself to close the distance. His breath hitched, his hands hovering, shaking, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“I was supposed to be your guardian, Adam,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “I was made for you… to protect you, to be whatever you needed, whatever you deserved.”

He swallowed, his chest tight as the words clawed their way out, raw and unfiltered. “But I failed you. I failed you in ways I can’t even… can’t even justify.”

His fingers trailed across Adam’s robe, tracing the familiar folds, the dark stains of blood, each one a reminder of how far they’d fallen from what they once were.

He took a shaky breath, his mind dragging him back to the painful memories, to Lilith.

“She was… God, she was everything to me then,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I thought… I thought I loved her. I thought she saw me in a way no one else ever had. I thought she understood me. She was fierce, and powerful, and beautiful, and I thought—”

His voice broke, and he looked down, the shame tightening like a vice around his heart. “I thought she would stay. I thought… I thought she wanted me, that she wanted what we could build together. I cut off my own wings for her, gave up everything I had, my power, my place in heaven. And then, at the first chance she got, she left. Left me and Charlie as if we were nothing.”

He let out a bitter laugh, empty and hollow. “But maybe… maybe I deserved it. I had it coming, didn’t I? For what I did to you.”

His gaze flickered to Adam’s face, hoping desperately to see a flicker of forgiveness, but Adam remained still, cold and lifeless. Lucifer clenched his teeth, forcing himself to keep going, to lay everything bare before him.

“You saw us, didn’t you?” he whispered. “Back in Eden. You saw Lilith and me… together. And I knew. I knew it wasn’t fair to you, that you didn’t understand. You didn’t deserve that, Adam. You didn’t deserve to be hurt like that, to be left alone, wondering what happened to me, wondering why everything changed.”

He looked away, ashamed. “And I can’t explain myself. I wish I could. I want to, but… I don’t know what happened. I was so… blinded. I couldn’t see you, couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I was too wrapped up in her, in what I thought I felt for her.”

His voice dropped to a whisper; his words laced with regret. “But before Lilith, it was always you. It was always you, Adam. I was so… so sure I loved you, I just didn’t know it then. I loved every moment we spent together. I would have done anything for you, anything to make you happy. And then Lilith appeared, and it was like… I lost sight of everything, even myself. And I’m so sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry for hurting you like that. I can’t… I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

His breath came faster, his heart racing as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching Adam’s.

“Please,” he gasped, desperation bleeding into his voice. “Please believe me, Adam… please, just believe me.”

But Adam didn’t move. His chest remained still, his lips unmoving, his eyes closed. Adam was gone, lost to him forever, and there was no forgiveness left to give.

And the truth was, it didn’t end there. He knew that. It had only gotten worse. With every betrayal, every hurtful word, he had crushed any possibility of Adam ever forgiving him. The garden’s peace had been shattered the day he offered Eve the apple of knowledge, sealing their fates, twisting their lives in ways they could never repair. And… he’d done worse, so much worse. Seducing Eve, leading her astray beneath the same tree where he and Lilith had once been together—it was a cruelty he couldn’t justify, a cruelty he could barely comprehend. God, what had he been thinking? What kind of twisted satisfaction had he found in that, in taking from Adam everything that mattered?

He had shattered Adam’s life piece by piece, and yet, even then, Adam had been forced to face him time and time again. When Heaven and Hell would meet, when Sera dragged Adam into those dreadful meetings, he’d seen the reluctance, the pain in Adam’s eyes, how he didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to face either him or Lilith. But he had no choice. And Lucifer… he hadn’t been kind. Neither he nor Lilith had shown him an ounce of mercy. They had ridiculed him, humiliated him, found twisted joy in watching him squirm, powerless and betrayed. And why? Why had he been so cruel? What purpose had it served?

He looked down, his heart aching as he remembered those meetings, the way Adam had silently endured every word, every insult, sitting there, taking it, never once fighting back. Adam had suffered, and Lucifer had watched, almost revelling in it, as if punishing Adam would somehow heal the cracks in his own broken heart. As if hurting Adam could numb his own pain. But he had only hurt himself in the end, lost the one person who had ever mattered to him.

And when the Extermination finally came, when the heavens unleashed their wrath, Lucifer had known, deep down, that they deserved it. Every drop of blood, every scream, every life lost—he and Lilith had brought it upon themselves. They had forced Adam’s hand, driven him to the breaking point. And now, here he was, kneeling in front of Adam’s lifeless form, begging for forgiveness that would never come.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to Adam’s cold chest, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words broken and raw. “I’m so sorry… I’m so… so sorry…”

And there, in the quiet, he finally allowed himself to cry, his tears falling like ashes, a silent lament for the life he had destroyed, for the love he had lost forever.

With trembling hands, Lucifer finally reached out, his fingers brushing over Adam’s chest, desperate to feel any sign of life, any hint of warmth. But there was nothing. No steady drum of a heartbeat, no soft rise and fall of breath. Just silence, a vast and hollow silence that ripped through him like a jagged blade.

His eyes widened, hot tears spilling down his cheeks as memories surged to the surface. In Eden, he had often rested his head against Adam’s chest, lulled by the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. It had been one of his favourite things, to lie there and listen to that soft, steady pulse. It had felt like… like home. It had felt like safety, like something real and lasting. He had loved it, loved Adam, loved him more than he had ever been able to admit.

But now—now there was nothing. Just silence.

Lucifer's throat tightened as he leaned down, pressing his face against Adam’s chest, willing the warmth back, willing that familiar heartbeat to start up again. He held his breath, straining his ears, hoping, begging for the faintest thump of life. Just one beat, one inhale, anything. But there was nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

A sob wrenched from his throat, harsh and broken, as the realization finally crashed over him, too powerful to deny. Adam was gone. Truly gone. There would be no laughter, no teasing words, no forgiveness. The connection he had always felt with Adam, that subtle warmth in the back of his mind that told him Adam was alive, was… gone. Severed, leaving only an aching, freezing emptiness in its place. For the first time in eons, Lucifer felt truly, utterly alone.

He clutched at Adam’s robes, his claws slicing through the fabric as he buried his face deeper into Adam’s chest, his sobs tearing through him, raw and desperate.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a broken breath. “Please… please come back. Adam, please… I’m begging you. Just… just come back.”

But Adam lay silent, unmoving, his body a hollow shell. His soul, the vibrant light that had filled Lucifer’s darkest moments with hope, with warmth, was gone. Lost to him forever.

Lucifer clutched harder, his claws rending the cloth, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Addie,” he choked out, the nickname slipping from his lips as if by instinct, a final, broken plea to the friend he had loved and failed. “I’m so… so sorry.”

He lay there, crushed beneath the weight of his own grief, pressing his face into Adam’s chest as if he could somehow force life back into him, as if he could somehow undo all the harm he had done. But the silence was deafening, a cruel, unyielding reminder that it was too late. Adam was gone, and no amount of sorrow, no amount of regret could bring him back.

Lucifer’s cries echoed through the barren, smoking expanse of Hell, raw and unrestrained, like a wound torn open, bleeding out all the pain and love he had carried for so long, hidden even from himself. And for the first time, Lucifer understood the full measure of his loss. There would be no redemption, no second chance. The love he had been too proud, too blind to claim was gone, leaving him hollow, shattered in a way that no amount of time could heal.

And there, alone in the endless silence, Lucifer wept, clutching Adam’s lifeless form as if he could somehow hold onto him, even as everything he had ever loved slipped through his fingers, leaving nothing but an aching void where his heart had once been.

Lucifer’s body was numb, every muscle trembling and strained as he finally stepped back from Adam’s grave. Beneath the smoky sky of Hell, in his hidden garden—a small oasis of fragile memories and forbidden nostalgia—Adam now rested. The garden had been Lucifer’s sanctuary, his one secret, private place built from the remnants of Eden that still clung to his soul. It was his slice of paradise in the darkness, a testament to the life and love he’d lost. Lilith had scoffed at it, her distaste a constant reminder of their fractured souls and desires, but he had never let go. The garden had been everything to him.

Slowly, Lucifer lowered himself to his knees, his hand hovering over the freshly turned earth. His claws brushed the soil, and as his fingers spread, a stream of red carnations and roses bloomed from the earth, unfurling over Adam’s grave like blood-red whispers. The blossoms curled around his fingers, soft and warm, almost as if they carried Adam’s presence.

"I’m so sorry, Addie,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse from days of weeping. He traced the petals with delicate care, caressing the earth as though it were Adam himself. “I wish things had been different. I wish I’d known… I wish I’d understood what you truly meant to me back in Eden.”

Lucifer’s voice cracked, and he closed his eyes, the weight of his regret pressing down like an ocean. He had always thought he had time, always thought he could mend things one day, that somehow, he could make Adam see the love he had hidden, buried deep under pride and mistakes. But there was no longer time—just this garden and a grave he had made for the only one who had ever really understood him.

“I turned you into something you weren’t,” he continued, his tears flowing freely. “You were gentle… so full of life. That angel who became a soldier, who destroyed so much—he wasn’t you. He was my shadow, my mistake. You deserved so much better.”

He wiped a tear away, though more kept coming, unbidden. “I wish I could have made you happy.”

He struggled to his hooves, his body exhausted, but as he rose, a glint of gold caught his eye. He paused, his heart lurching painfully. A golden feather lay on the ground, dusted with earth yet still gleaming faintly in the dimness. He bent down and picked it up with reverent fingers, holding it to his chest as his vision blurred with fresh tears. Adam’s feathers had always captivated him, their radiance beyond anything he had seen. They had been perfect, beautiful… like Adam himself.

With a shaking breath, Lucifer held the feather close, pressing it against his heart as though it could fill the empty void that Adam’s loss had left behind.

“I love you, Addie,” he whispered to the flowers, to the silence, to the golden thread of memory still tethered to his heart. “I know you never believed me… but I did. I do. Even if I ruined everything, even if I hurt you. I love you.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he bowed his head, clutching the feather as if it were his lifeline. He had made terrible, unforgivable choices—choices that had cost him Eden, that had shattered whatever Adam, and he had once shared. And now he was alone, doomed to live in a Hell he could never escape.

A quiet, desperate plea escaped his lips, broken and raw. “I wish… I wish I could die too. To be anywhere but here, to be free… but Hell won’t let me go.”

Lucifer’s shoulders slumped, weighed down by endless despair, and he closed his eyes, cradling the feather as though it were Adam himself. He cast one last lingering look at the grave before he disappeared in a shuddering burst of golden flame.

He reappeared in his chambers, the cold and darkness pressing in on him as he sank down onto his bed. Around him, rubber ducks filled the room in bright, absurd little heaps, mocking him with their silly smiles. They were his only companions now, his only solace. Adam was gone. There was no one left.

Lucifer crawled into the pile, uncaring as the ducks scattered and tumbled around him, and clutched Adam’s feather to his face, breathing in its faint, lingering scent. He curled up tightly, his wings folded around him as he nestled into the feather, as if trying to burrow into the memory of the man he had lost.

In the silence, he closed his eyes, willing the pain to ebb, but it only sharpened, growing more intense as he nuzzled the feather, desperate for any remaining trace of Adam. He lay there, alone, his broken heart bleeding into the darkness, haunted by the love he had lost and the choices he could never undo.

Lucifer’s eyes felt gritty, his head pounding as he slowly stirred from a cold, fitful sleep. The darkness seemed alive, pressing in on him like a weight, filling his chest with a pain that twisted and grew until he whimpered, his claws clutching at the thick blankets tangled around him. As he drifted into sleep, his mind unravelled into strange, painful visions—memories and dreams stitched together into a haunting tapestry.

He saw Adam, standing in Eden’s sunlight, looking as he had in the earliest days—soft, serene, his golden wings shining as he laughed, his warm gaze fixed on Lucifer. Lucifer reached out, heart swelling with a desperate need to close the distance, to be with Adam again in their paradise. He stumbled forward, calling out promises he’d failed to keep, promises to do better, to be better for Adam. But Adam only stood there, smiling that same distant, heartbreaking smile, as though Lucifer’s words were a faint echo.

The harder Lucifer tried to reach him, the further Adam seemed to drift, like a mirage on the edge of his vision. Lucifer’s six wings beat furiously as he tried to fly, but the space between them widened, and his strength faltered. He stumbled, his robes—once pure and pristine—dragging him down as he fell to the earth. Mud splattered over him, and when he looked down, he saw his hooves—his demonic, twisted form reflecting back at him. One of his eyes had turned red, dark and unholy, a cruel reminder of what he had become.

Adam stood there, golden and radiant, watching him with unreadable eyes before turning, his wings folding as he started to walk away.

“Wait,” Lucifer gasped, his voice raw, clawing at the earth to pull himself forward. “Please, Addie, wait! Don’t leave me!”

But Adam only grew smaller, his image fading until there was nothing but a memory slipping away like sand through his fingers. Lucifer screamed into the darkness, his voice breaking with grief.

With a strangled gasp, he jolted awake, heart pounding as he sat up, clutching his chest. His chamber was dim and quiet, the dark blankets draping over him like the weight of his despair. His skin felt clammy and wrong, as though he were covered in a thin layer of despair he couldn’t shake. Curling forward, he hugged his knees, his claws digging into the quilt as choked sobs slipped from his lips. The pain of loss, of loneliness, stabbed into him like shards of ice.

Suddenly, a gentle, almost ethereal touch grazed his shoulder, soft and warm. Lucifer froze, his body going rigid as a familiar voice broke the silence, filled with tenderness.

“Luci… did you have a nightmare?”

He dared not breathe. His pulse roared in his ears as he slowly turned, his gaze locking onto a pair of golden eyes—soft, kind, impossibly familiar. For a moment, he could only stare, feeling as if he’d slipped into yet another dream. The face before him, full of compassion and warmth, was one he’d thought lost forever.

“A-Adam?” he stammered, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes grew wide, disbelief painting every line of his face.

Adam looked at him with gentle concern, his golden eyes glowing faintly. “Hey, Luci… you look pale. Are you alright?”

He raised a hand to touch Lucifer’s face, but Lucifer jerked back, as if burned. His heart raced, his mind reeling as he scrambled backward, his gaze darting around the room.

He blinked, noticing that the cramped piles of rubber ducks—his bizarre, lonely treasures—were gone. In their place were shelves filled with carefully arranged, exquisite little ducks, each displayed with precision and care. His chamber seemed larger, familiar yet somehow transformed, warmer.

"Luci?" Adam’s voice brought him back, and Lucifer turned to see Adam still sitting there, his eyes filled with a soft, steady patience. He was so close, so real—Lucifer could almost feel the warmth radiating from him. Adam poked his cheek playfully, brows knitting in confusion.

“Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

Lucifer’s breath caught. He stared at Adam, searching his gaze for some sign, some confirmation of what he was seeing.

“What… what’s going on?” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Why are you… why are you here? Why are you in my bed?”

Adam chuckled softly, his expression as open and pure as it had been in Eden. “Luci, how hard did you hit your head?”

He reached out, his hand brushing Lucifer’s hair with a tenderness that made Lucifer’s heart ache.

Lucifer swallowed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be real—it was impossible. But as he looked into Adam’s golden eyes, feeling the soft warmth of his touch, he felt something long dead flicker within him, fragile and terrified of breaking.

“Addie…” he breathed, reaching out, his fingers hovering just inches from Adam’s cheek, too afraid to touch. The reality of Adam’s warmth, his nearness, felt like a forbidden dream. "Is it… really you?"

Adam smiled softly, the warmth of his presence settling around them both like a balm. "It’s me, Luci. I’m here.”

Lucifer’s heart skipped, his chest tightening with an emotion he hadn’t felt in eons. The ache that had haunted him for so long began to soften, the darkness retreating just enough to let in a flicker of hope.

Lucifer’s body surged forward with a frantic energy, scrambling onto the bed with a clumsy urgency. His usually pristine golden hair was a dishevelled mess, wild locks sticking out as if echoing the storm of emotions within him. Reaching for Adam’s hands, Lucifer clasped them tightly, his fingers trembling. He let out a shaky, half-choked laugh that dissolved into a sound halfway between wonder and despair.

“You’re… you’re alive! Addie, you’re alive,” he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief, each word a shuddering breath as though speaking might shatter the fragile reality before him. His heart, long numbed by guilt and despair, throbbed now with a vulnerable intensity.

Adam’s golden eyes, warm yet puzzled, met his with a quiet concern, his gentle gaze unchanging, almost cautious. But Lucifer couldn’t stop. Words spilled from him like a dam bursting, rushing forward in an almost feverish cascade.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so—so sorry. Please, forgive me. For everything I did, everything I didn’t do. I never wanted to hurt you; I just… I just wanted us to be close again. I ruined it all, Addie. I don’t deserve—”

His voice cracked, the words piling up, unable to keep pace with the grief he’d buried so deep.

As Lucifer leaned forward, trying to draw closer to Adam, he suddenly stopped, his chest jolting as something solid pressed against him, keeping him just out of reach. His brows furrowed in confusion, and he glanced down, seeing the curve of the blankets bulging slightly, pressed firm against his stomach. Whatever was hidden beneath them felt solid, almost weighty, and he instinctively reached to pull the covers back, baffled.

Adam giggled softly, a rosy blush colouring his cheeks. “I think I’ve gotten… bigger,” he murmured, an air of shy humour in his voice.

Lucifer blinked, his gaze darting from Adam’s face back down to the mysterious curve beneath the covers. It was then he noticed how strikingly different Adam looked: healthier, more radiant, his cheeks free of the hollow shadows and weariness Lucifer remembered. Adam’s skin seemed to almost glow, and atop his head were two delicate horns, a soft shade of blue that stirred memories of his own former self, back before the fall.

Adam fidgeted slightly, his expression shifting to one of slight embarrassment.

“You don’t think I’m… fat, do you?” he asked, eyes dropping self-consciously, though they glimmered with a touch of humour.

Fat? Lucifer thought, dazed. He remembered a time he’d teased Adam about putting on weight, but now his throat tightened with remorse. Shaking his head, he murmured, “No, Addie. You’re not… you’re not fat. You’re beautiful, like always.”

He leaned forward, but again that mysterious object kept them apart. Growing impatient, Lucifer carefully drew back the quilt, eyes widening as the reality settled over him.

The rounded swell of Adam’s stomach was unmistakable, pressing against the soft blue fabric of his shirt. It wasn’t the softness of excess but rather a firm, natural curve—like a promise, a secret harbouring a fragile new life. Lucifer’s mouth dropped open as he stared in shock.

“You’re… you’re pregnant,” he whispered, a high, incredulous pitch to his voice, awe and disbelief mingling in his words. “How—how did this happen?”

Adam laughed, a soft, musical sound that seemed to fill the room with warmth. His cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, and he reached down, placing a gentle hand over the curve of his stomach.

 “I think you know exactly how, Luci,” he teased, voice tender, but with a knowing light in his eyes. “Six months ago… don’t you remember? It was after our anniversary.”

Anniversary? What did that even mean?

Lucifer’s mind spun, the ancient gears in his head struggling to find traction. His brow furrowed as he tried to grasp Adam’s words, though they slipped through his understanding like sand. The weight of confusion pressed on him as he blinked furiously, shifting his gaze to steady himself, to ground himself in Adam's presence.

"It was just after our 300th anniversary," Adam murmured softly, a warm hum that filled the room. He wore a gentle, almost shy smile as he glanced down at the small but unmistakable swell of his belly. "It was… a bit of a surprise. Neither of us expected it—not after Charlie. But we’re happy, aren’t we?”

Adam’s gaze lifted, and Lucifer caught the flicker of vulnerability there, the unspoken fear that nestled in his husband’s eyes. The usually composed Adam looked almost… fragile.

His voice quivered, softer now, as he asked, “You’re still happy, aren’t you, Luci? About the baby?”

Adam’s hand drifted protectively to his stomach, his brow creased with worry. “You… you haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

Lucifer’s throat tightened. The question held weight—no, not weight. A gravity. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he could see how much it mattered to Adam. Whatever was going on, he would figure it out. Somehow. Later.

"Of course, I’m happy!" he said, his voice cracking slightly, and he winced at the sound of it. Still, he moved closer to Adam, his hand instinctively reaching out to rest on his shoulder. He let his fingers slide to Adam’s stomach, his touch cautious, reverent. “I’m… I’m so very happy about… our baby.”

Adam released a slow breath, his tension ebbing away. He leaned into Lucifer, who quickly wrapped his arms around him, supporting him as though he were cradling the most delicate treasure. For a moment, Lucifer felt unsure, but Adam's warmth, his trust, softened something deep within him.

"I love you, Luci," Adam whispered, his voice thick with sleep and sweet with affection. His eyelids fluttered, and he yawned softly, pressing closer to Lucifer. "I’m so happy we… fell together.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. Fell together. The words struck him as if he were hearing them for the first time. He took in their room—a chamber he knew well, yet tonight it was somehow transformed, bathed in a serene, tender shade of blue. Every edge of the room softened, a haven unlike any place he'd ever known.

"Luci…" Adam murmured, tugging him down toward the bed. "I’m tired. Let’s go back to sleep.”

Lucifer nodded slowly, lowering himself beside Adam. His gaze stayed glued to his face, mesmerized by the peaceful smile that lingered on Adam’s lips, the faint glow of pure contentment that radiated from him.

“I love you, Luci,” Adam whispered, eyes finally closing, his breathing slowing as he drifted into sleep.

Lucifer swallowed, the words catching in his throat as he reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he gently stroked his hand along Adam's arm. "I… I love you too," he whispered, his voice fragile yet earnest.

Adam sighed softly in his sleep, and as Lucifer held him close, he felt something blossom inside him—something ancient, eternal, but also achingly new. An inexplicable longing settled over him, as if he were relearning the meaning of love in the warmth of Adam’s steady breaths, the rise and fall of his chest.

ucifer lay still beside Adam, watching his husband slumber, mesmerized by the soft rise and fall of his chest, the faint smile lingering on his lips even in sleep. Lucifer didn’t know how long he lay there, simply unable to look away. He couldn't. Not when, in the life he remembered, he had just been kneeling by Adam's corpse, his face drenched in tears. What was going on? Adam had died… hadn’t he? Lucifer had buried him, laid him to rest in the heart of Eden, his most cherished garden, a place he had never allowed anyone else.

Carefully, Lucifer slipped from the bed, ensuring he didn’t disturb Adam. He swung his legs to the floor, glancing down and feeling the faintest flicker of surprise. He was shirtless, and instead of his usual dark pajamas, he wore an unexpected pair of bright, duck-themed boxers. They were… adorable? He squinted, not recognizing them at all.

He padded softly across the room, his hooves sinking into the plush carpet that covered the floor. This, too, was new—a rich, comforting shade that he’d never seen before in his chamber. His gaze drifted to the walls, noticing how they were no longer draped in the austere, heavy tapestries he remembered. Instead, they were painted in soothing colors, warm and soft, lending the room a sense of calm he hadn’t known he craved. Lucifer frowned, his chest tightening, feeling both out of place and strangely at home.

His eyes caught on a golden-framed portrait on the wall. He knew this painting well—or at least he thought he did. The original painting had been a bittersweet reminder of his life with Lilith and their young daughter, Charlie, back when she was just a toddler. A painful relic. But as he approached, he realized this was… different.

Adam stood beside him in the painting, taking Lilith’s place. His face radiated joy, his arm around their daughter. And Charlie—her hair wasn’t the familiar gold from his memories but a soft hazel, like Adam’s. Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse thundering in his chest as he stared at this family that, impossibly, seemed his own.

He tore his gaze away and slipped out of the chamber, the quiet of the corridor wrapping around him like a gentle mist. As he wandered through the halls, he noticed more and more differences. The cold, intimidating decor Lilith had favored was gone, replaced by something warmer, softer, and infinitely more welcoming. The walls, once adorned with shadowy tapestries and harsh colors, now bore gentle hues, punctuated by warm lights that cast a peaceful glow along the polished floors. Lucifer felt his chest tighten, an ache he couldn’t quite name blooming within him. The more he saw, the more he found himself… liking it. It was a home, not just a fortress.

Eventually, Lucifer found himself at the door of his office—the room where he’d spent countless hours handling his duties as King of Hell. He reached out, grasping the door handle, and pushed it open. The moment he stepped inside, he froze. His office, once chaotic and piled high with endless, neglected paperwork, was now spotless. Everything was in perfect order, from the neatly stacked files to the immaculate desk. His neglected paperwork—months, no, years of backlogged duties he’d ignored in his grief—was nowhere to be seen.

His eyes drifted to a shelf by the window. A collection of small, duck figurines, each carefully placed inside a glass box, caught his eye. They looked rare and almost precious, and as Lucifer studied them, he felt an unfamiliar sense of warmth, almost amusement, stirring within him. There was something endearing, something so distinctly Adam about their presence here.

Slowly, Lucifer moved to his desk, trailing his clawed fingers along its smooth surface before picking up a small picture frame. He lowered himself into his plush chair, his eyes fixed on the photo. In the picture, he was cuddling up to Adam, who was visibly pregnant, his belly round and full. Adam looked radiant, though there was a hint of tiredness, even fragility, in his face. But they both looked… happy. So happy it made Lucifer’s chest ache.

He set the frame down carefully, his gaze flicking around the office once more. Books he recognized lined the shelves, yet they seemed to have been meticulously organized and, shockingly, read. The daunting pile of work he had once allowed to fester was not only done but years ahead. How… had that happened? He swallowed, feeling an odd mixture of awe and unease.

Standing up, he left the office and drifted back into the corridor. His eyes caught on more paintings adorning the walls—scenes of a life he had never lived, and yet somehow they felt achingly familiar. One painting showed him standing beside Adam, each with an arm around Charlie, who was beaming with happiness, her red and yellow eyes bright with love. Another showed them all on a picnic under a willow tree, Charlie tugging at Lucifer’s hand as she laughed. There was one where a teenage Charlie, looking every bit like her mother, was rolling her eyes at Lucifer, though her mouth held a small, affectionate smile.

Lucifer’s steps slowed as he studied each painting, heart thudding as he took in the thousands of moments they depicted. They painted a life he had never dared to dream—a life where he had fallen not with Lilith, but with Adam, a life where they had been damned together and yet had somehow found a way to build a family, a future, a love that shone even here, in Hell. In this life, he had watched Charlie grow, had raised her with Adam by his side, had been part of her life even in her teenage years, when she’d likely rebelled against them both. And she looked so… happy. Every image radiated the joy she’d shared with them, a warmth that lingered in her gaze, a trust and love she had for her parents.

In his own life, there had been no paintings of those years. No laughter, no memories captured of a teenage Charlie by his side. He had lost her trust, had watched her pull away, leaving him with only the shadow of what might have been.

But here… here she was, smiling. Bright-eyed. Free.

Lucifer's breath hitched, a wave of raw emotion rising within him, fierce and unfamiliar. He reached out, fingers grazing the frame of a painting where they all stood together, a family complete, unbroken by the pain that had shadowed his own life.

How was any of this possible? Had he been given another chance, a glimpse into what he could have had? Or was this some cruel illusion, designed to haunt him? As he stood in the corridor, surrounded by memories of a love and a family he had never truly known, he realized that he didn’t care whether this was real or not. This life, these moments—it was a world he wanted to live in. A world where he was loved and had chosen love in return.

He inhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on one last painting—one where he and Adam were dancing, eyes locked, laughter spilling from their lips. In that moment, Lucifer vowed that, however this had happened, he would not let this world slip away. Not again.

Lucifer returned to his chamber, standing outside the heavy doors as he drew a deep breath, his heart pounding wildly at the thought of what awaited him within. He reached out, his hands trembling slightly, and pushed the door open, slipping quietly inside. His hooves felt strangely unsteady, and his fingers twitched at his sides as he approached the enormous, inviting bed.

There, nestled in the tangle of blankets and quilts, was Adam, still fast asleep. The sight made Lucifer pause. Adam looked so peaceful, his expression soft and untroubled as he burrowed further into the cozy warmth of the bed. It was endearing, seeing him like this, utterly relaxed. Lucifer felt a pang of something sweet and gentle, something he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Adam looked… perfect, like he belonged here, like he had always belonged in Lucifer’s bed, in his life.

Swallowing the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him, Lucifer reached down, gently pinching the corner of the blankets, lifting them, and sliding himself under. He moved slowly, carefully, until he was right beside Adam. Close enough to feel his warmth, to catch the faint scent of him. And then, with a trembling hand, he reached out, brushing his fingers against Adam’s cheek. The skin was soft, warm, alive.

He’s really here.

He could feel the gentle heat radiating from Adam, the slow rise and fall of his chest, each breath a quiet reminder that Adam was, impossibly, still with him. And as he lay there, watching, he heard something else—a soft, sleepy hum, an occasional quiet laugh, as though Adam were lost in a pleasant dream.

Lucifer’s heart fluttered, a warmth spreading through him. He realized he was smiling, his own breath catching in his chest as he whispered, “I want to see more.”

He inched closer, and as he did, Adam shifted, instinctively snuggling into him, pressing against him with the innocent trust of someone who felt safe, completely at ease. Lucifer’s heart swelled, and he couldn’t resist the urge to nuzzle into Adam’s hair, letting its softness tickle his face, breathing in his scent.

“I want to see more, Addie,” he murmured, his voice low and full of wonder. “I want to see more, Addie. I want to see what else is different.”

He let his fingers trail gently through Adam's hair, the silky strands slipping through his claws as he breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of him. It was an intimacy he’d never quite allowed himself before, a closeness he hadn’t known he craved until now. He nuzzled his face into Adam's hair, letting the warmth settle into his bones as he wrapped his arms around Adam, holding him like a lifeline.

“I want to see how our lives have changed… together,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the words felt monumental, a promise spoken into the quiet stillness of the room.

As he lay there, breathing in sync with Adam, Lucifer felt the exhaustion of countless lifetimes begin to ebb away, replaced by a warmth that wrapped around him like a blanket. A life like this… it was something he’d never allowed himself to even imagine, but now, in this quiet moment, it felt possible. Real. His eyelids grew heavy, and his breathing slowed, matching Adam’s as he drifted closer to sleep, nestled against the man who had always been his tether.

Just before sleep took him, a thought drifted through his mind—a wish, a quiet yearning, Please… let this be real.

And as he surrendered to slumber, Lucifer felt the unfamiliar but deeply welcome sensation of feeling safe, cocooned in a warmth that he wanted to last forever.

When Lucifer awoke, his whole body felt uncommonly… good. There was no lingering ache, no dull exhaustion pressing on his bones, and the familiar cold pang that usually twisted in his chest was… gone. He shifted within the warm embrace of the blankets, savoring the comfort of the bed. A soft, contented yawn escaped him as he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, taking in the hazy morning light filtering into the room. He blinked a few times, rubbing his face with one hand, feeling well-rested in a way he hadn’t known in what felt like ages.

But then he noticed something amiss—his side felt unusually cold, the spot beside him vacant. Lucifer frowned and rolled onto his side, sliding his hand across the sheets in search of the warmth he expected to find there. Only emptiness met his touch.

His heart leapt into his throat, panic flaring in his chest as he scrambled upright. The sheets tangled around his legs, and before he could steady himself, he stumbled, crashing to the floor in a tangle of quilts and limbs. He winced as his chin hit the ground, but the urgency pulsing within him was far too strong to let that stop him. Ignoring the faint ache, he quickly scrambled to his hooves, his gaze darting around the chamber, anxiety tightening in his chest.

The room was just as it had been last night—spotlessly tidy, softly inviting, as if crafted to hold a sense of peace he’d longed for but never believed he could have. Yet something was wrong.

Where was Adam?

Just as he was about to rush out the door in a desperate search, it swung open, and there stood Adam, looking somewhat startled as he took in the sight of Lucifer, wide-eyed and slightly dishevelled, in the middle of the room. Adam’s golden eyes flickered over the mess Lucifer had made in his hurried rise from bed. He blinked, then met Lucifer's gaze with a concerned, puzzled expression.

“Um… a-are you okay?” Adam asked softly, his brow furrowing as he took in the room and then settled his eyes back on Lucifer.

Without hesitation, Lucifer crossed the room, grasping Adam’s hands as if afraid he might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight. “Where were you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with relief yet tinged with the lingering panic that had clawed at him moments before.

A sheepish smile curled across Adam’s lips. “I had to… you know, pee.”

He gestured toward his round belly, and the explanation clicked into place in Lucifer’s mind. Oh. Of course. That made perfect sense. Lucifer’s face flushed, and he released a small, embarrassed whine, his head dipping as he let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice softened with self-consciousness. “I woke up, and you were gone, and I just… I thought…”

Adam reached up, his hand gentle as he cupped Lucifer’s chin and tilted his face up to meet his gaze. The warmth in Adam’s golden eyes melted away any lingering fear, the softness of his expression like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. He smiled, a soft, loving curve of his lips that made Lucifer’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m fine,” Adam reassured him, his voice gentle and soothing. “I’m not sick or anything. You’ve got to stop worrying so much.”

Lucifer trembled under that affectionate gaze, his own heart beating so fiercely he was sure Adam could feel it through his hands. Then, without warning, Adam leaned in, his lips brushing over Lucifer’s in a brief, feather-light kiss that sent shockwaves through Lucifer’s entire being. Adam’s lips were warm, softer than he’d imagined, and the brief press of them against his left him frozen, every thought scattering like dust on the wind.

When Adam pulled away, Lucifer’s face burned crimson, his mind still reeling. He’d just had his first kiss with Adam—a kiss he had never dared dream would happen. It was perfect, in every way he’d never imagined it could be.

“I love you,” Adam murmured, his hands giving Lucifer’s a gentle squeeze. “But remember, I’m not made of china. I’m just… pregnant.”

He smiled with a playful glint in his eyes, as if inviting Lucifer to relax, to let go of his worries.

Lucifer nodded slowly, his face still a bright, unmistakable red as he absorbed the warmth of those words. Adam had kissed him. He had actually kissed him. And, more importantly, he’d said… I love you.

Lucifer could barely breathe, the words echoing in his mind, wrapping around his heart and lighting something within him that he’d thought long dead.

Before he could respond, Adam chuckled softly, stepping back and giving Lucifer a teasing smile. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have,” Lucifer murmured, more to himself than to Adam, his voice still laced with wonder. This felt like a dream, a vivid and impossibly sweet vision he feared would dissolve if he blinked too hard.

Adam laughed, shaking his head as he rubbed his belly. “Well, this ghost is starving. Come on, Luci—let’s go see if there’s anything good in the kitchen.”

He started to shuffle toward the door, glancing back with a playful smile, and Lucifer, still reeling, followed.

As they walked through the halls, Lucifer's gaze lingered on Adam, unable to look away from the quiet beauty of this life. He was here, in a world that felt too beautiful to be real, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, he allowed himself to believe it was possible.

Lucifer followed Adam down the hallway, lingering a step behind, still grappling with the strangeness and sweetness of this new reality. As they entered the kitchen, Lucifer paused, taking in the space with a faint frown. The room was cozy, modestly sized, a far cry from the grandiose kitchen in his dominion. Here, everything seemed designed for warmth rather than grandeur—cabinets of warm wood, a sturdy stove, countertops speckled with flour dust and softened by the morning light filtering in through the window.

He barely had time to absorb it all before Adam made a beeline for the cupboards, his movements full of purpose and energy. Lucifer watched, feeling a strange fondness wash over him as he saw Adam pull out ingredients with practiced ease, his hands working with a confidence that seemed almost ritualistic.

“Adam, you’re pregnant,” Lucifer began, stepping forward and watching Adam stack flour, eggs, and milk on the counter. “You should be resting.”

Adam glanced over his shoulder, an easy laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“You know I don’t like to rest, Luci. I need to be doing something—always,” he said, his golden eyes dancing with amusement.

Lucifer’s chest tightened. He didn’t know that. He didn’t know this about Adam. The realization settled over him, heavy and unsettling. There were layers, entire dimensions of this man, that Lucifer hadn’t known in his former life. His voice softened as he reached forward, taking Adam’s hand in his own.

“We could just… call for a servant to do it. You don’t need to strain yourself.”

Adam’s brows arched. “Servant? What servants?”

Lucifer blinked, caught off guard. “I… well, I mean, I assumed…”

He trailed off, searching for an explanation. “I could conjure whatever you want to eat. It’d be nothing.”

But instead of agreeing, Adam laughed again, a sound so pure and sweet it made Lucifer’s heart clench. Adam reached up, gently patting Lucifer’s cheek. “Oh, Luci, you always know how to make me laugh. But you know I don’t like it when you use your magic for things I can do myself.”

Lucifer’s gaze held a flicker of confusion. He wasn’t joking, yet somehow, without even intending it, he’d managed to make Adam laugh.

“But, I just… I really want you to rest,” he muttered, shifting his weight, his hooves shuffling on the floor. “You’re six months pregnant, Adam. You should be taking it easy.”

Adam’s gaze softened; his expression so tender that Lucifer felt his resolve begin to melt away.

“Luci, we’ve talked about this,” Adam murmured, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. The warmth of Adam’s hand in his own was grounding, an anchor in this unfamiliar world.

“Cooking… it makes me happy,” Adam continued, his voice filled with gentle reassurance. “It’s how I show my love. And I know you get worried, but you don’t have to. I’m alright. I’m stronger this time.”

Lucifer swallowed, his gaze lingering on their intertwined hands. The love and confidence in Adam’s tone soothed something restless within him. This Adam was gentle but unwavering, full of strength yet tender—a warmth Lucifer hadn’t dared let himself imagine before. Lucifer took a shaky breath, squeezing Adam’s hand, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I… I guess I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for you,” he whispered, his voice raw with an honesty he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. “This… everything about this—about you—means more to me than I can even say.”

Adam’s smile widened, and he reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair back from Lucifer’s face. “I know, Luci. And that’s exactly why it already is perfect.”

Lucifer’s face flushed, his heart racing as he let Adam’s hand slip from his, watching as he returned to the counter with that gentle, devoted smile. Standing there, seeing Adam pour love and care into every movement, Lucifer felt a new determination settle in his chest.

He would protect this, Lucifer vowed silently to himself, this world, this life, this love.

He would do whatever it took to keep it safe, and perhaps, just maybe, let himself believe he truly deserved it.

Lucifer slipped around Adam with practiced finesse, his fingers closing around the bowl before Adam could react.

"How about I make breakfast for a change?" he suggested, his voice smooth and enticing as he flashed Adam a charming, radiant grin—the kind that could melt anyone’s heart.

Adam raised a sceptical eyebrow, not in the least bit swayed. He snorted, reaching to reclaim the bowl. "Oh, really? And what exactly would you make, hm?"

With a playful wink, Lucifer twirled out of Adam’s reach, holding the bowl just out of reach.

"Only my specialty... pancakes!" he announced with an exaggerated flourish.

Adam’s laugh was pure and warm, bubbling up despite his efforts to keep a straight face. “Pancakes, you say? But Luci, you can’t cook."

Lucifer's face morphed into a mock expression of scandalized surprise. "What? Of course I can! I'm an amazing cook!"

Adam laughed harder, clutching his side as if to contain the joyful sound.

“Oh, Luci…” he managed between giggles. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time you tried? Whatever that was supposed to be, it ended up… well, let’s just say it was a bit of a disaster. Black as a hockey puck."

Lucifer pouted, folding his arms in playful indignation. Then, as he caught sight of Adam’s still-giggling face, he let his pout melt into an amused, toothy grin. Ah, so it seems his other self couldn’t cook to save his life. How fascinating.

His eyes glinting with devilish excitement. “But, trust me, I’ve been practicing.”

Adam narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he tried to look stern, though his smile betrayed him. "Alright, alright. I suppose I’ll give my lovable husband a chance."

Lucifer practically skipped with joy. "Wonderful! Now, go sit down, put those feet up, and let me take care of everything!"

He leaned in and pecked Adam on the cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin linger against his lips. "Trust me, Addie—you’re going to love this."

Adam let out a resigned sigh, but his eyes were filled with affection as he settled himself at the small kitchen table, resting his hands on his belly. His sceptical smile followed Lucifer as he moved back to the counter, fully claiming the kitchen as his temporary domain. As he glanced back, Lucifer’s heart skipped—a sight that, for all his centuries, felt thrilling and entirely new.

Determined to impress, Lucifer turned to the stove, summoning a light flicker of flames with a single snap of his fingers. He poured flour and cracked eggs with careful focus, hoping his newly claimed cooking confidence wasn’t just bluster. As he whisked the batter, he stole a glance over his shoulder to see Adam watching him with quiet amusement.

There was a softness in Adam’s gaze as he observed Lucifer’s every move, as though watching someone he loved and trusted implicitly. And for the first time, the weight of that trust hit Lucifer with stunning clarity. Here was a man who knew his every flaw and, despite everything, still loved him fully, without hesitation.

After a few moments, Lucifer poured the batter onto the sizzling pan, smiling as the pancakes began to rise and golden, filling the kitchen with the faint, sweet scent of vanilla. He added a bit of flair, flipping each pancake high into the air, turning just enough to catch Adam’s eye. Adam’s chuckle was immediate, and the warmth it sparked in Lucifer’s chest was indescribable.

When the pancakes were finally done, Lucifer arranged them on a plate, meticulously layering them with a pat of butter and a drizzle of syrup, along with a handful of fresh berries he found tucked away in the fridge. He set the plate down before Adam, who looked at him with eyebrows raised in surprise and amusement.

“There you go, Addie,” Lucifer said, sliding into the seat across from him and looking at him expectantly. “The finest pancakes in all of Hell, made by yours truly.”

Adam lifted a fork, spearing a bite of pancake with a hum of approval as he took his first taste. A look of surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by delight. "Oh, Luci… these are actually good!"

Lucifer preened under the compliment, his grin widening. “See? What did I tell you? Only the best for my beautiful Queen~”

Adam leaned forward, reaching across the table to brush his hand over Lucifer’s. "Thank you, Luci. It’s perfect."

Lucifer’s heart skipped again, his pulse thrumming in a way it hadn’t in centuries. He squeezed Adam’s hand, the realization dawning on him all over again: he was living in a world he never knew he wanted, with a love he’d never dared believe he deserved.

In this life, every moment was something precious, and he vowed then and there to cherish every single one.

As Lucifer watched Adam from across the table, every glance, every subtle movement of his was a treasure. He leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand, careful not to let his curiosity spill over into suspicion. He wanted to drink in this new life, to savour the unfamiliar tenderness between him and Adam, and he was desperate for more details.

"So, what’s the plan for today?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Adam’s face lit up immediately.

“Charlie invited me to her hotel!” He beamed; eyes sparkling. “I’m really excited to go!”

The mention of Charlie sent a thrill through Lucifer. His grin spread wide, his mind spinning with questions. Charlie had opened her hotel here too—had it succeeded? What was it like in this world? Was her vision the same as in his own? His heart pounded with anticipation.

"That's wonderful, Addie," he said warmly, eager to learn more but reining himself in. "You know, I’d love to see Charlie too. It’s been… too long."

Adam tilted his head, a bit of confusion creasing his brow.

“You’re… okay with me going, right?” he asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

Lucifer chuckled, surprised. “Why wouldn’t I be? She’s our baby girl, after all. I’d never stop you from seeing her.”

Relief washed over Adam’s face, and he released a soft laugh. “Oh, that’s good! I was worried you’d get mad…”

Lucifer’s smile slipped ever so slightly, something prickling at the back of his mind. “W-why would I be mad?”

Adam’s gaze dropped to his lap, his expression clouding over.

“It’s just… after the last time I left the mansion…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

A pang of protectiveness surged in Lucifer, but he held himself back, sensing it was a sensitive subject for Adam. He offered a gentle smile instead, brushing his fingers over Adam’s hand.

“Well,” he said softly, “You’ll be with Charlie. I’m sure she’ll keep an eye on you.”

Adam’s face brightened at that, a grin breaking through the worry. “That’s true! Charlie’s got a good head on her shoulders. Besides, I miss her so much. She’s been so busy with… with the redeemed souls.”

Lucifer’s breath caught. Redeemed souls?

His eyes widened just slightly, the implications overwhelming. Had Charlie actually managed to redeem souls in this world? How had Hell—how had Heaven—reacted? His mind buzzed with a thousand questions, each one more urgent than the last. But he kept his expression calm, pretending as if this was all perfectly normal.

“I really wish you could come too…” Adam’s voice pulled him from his racing thoughts, his words laced with a faint sadness.

Lucifer felt his chest ache, wanting to join him, to witness this new version of Hell alongside his family.

“Why can’t I?” he asked, his tone almost teasing.

Adam arched a brow, giving him a knowing smile. “Luci, you know you can’t just cancel another meeting. I know how you feel about running Hell, but with all the changes going on, it’s… important, right?”

Lucifer quickly nodded, mimicking the confidence he assumed his counterpart would’ve had.

“Of course,” he said, his voice steady. “I can’t neglect my duties.”

Adam let out a quiet sigh, his eyes dropping to the plate of half-eaten pancakes. “Just… don’t work yourself too hard, alright? We hardly have time together as it is, and… I miss you.”

There was a vulnerability in Adam’s tone that struck something deep within Lucifer, a quiet ache that told of lonely nights and missed moments.

He reached across the table, letting his hand rest over Adam’s. “I promise, Addie. I’ll make time. For us.”

Adam’s eyes softened as he squeezed Lucifer’s hand.

“You better,” he teased gently. “Because once this little one’s here, they’re going to want a lot of time with their father.”

Lucifer's heart clenched at the mention of the child—their child. A sudden wave of protectiveness and tenderness washed over him, and he fought to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Adam's smile returned, warmer and brighter. "Good. You’d better keep that promise, Luci.”

They finished breakfast in comfortable silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. As Adam cleared the plates, Lucifer couldn’t help but steal another glance, his mind awash with the marvels of this new life. This world was everything he hadn’t known he wanted, a world where love and redemption were not merely ideas, but truths shaping their lives.

He’d do anything to stay here, to see what other beautiful moments were yet to unfold.

...there was only one problem.

What has happened to the other Lucifer?

[ybcpatrick]

a little while ago, i gave a show-and-tell presentation of my doll collection, in celebration of nabbing my holy grail doll with bonuses for a fraction of the typical cost.

AND THEY'RE HEEEEEEEEEEEEERE

this is genuinely, without question, the most meaningful purchase i've ever made. barbie & the magic of pegasus has a place in the very foundation of who i am as a person; it's part of the core memory that made me an artist. i've been waiting to own princess annika for eighteen years. to get rayla in the same bundle (and both in such stellar condition) is just icing on the cake.

i'm so fucking happy 🥹💜❄️

[r0semultiverse]

Classpects & Canonicity (an observation & speculation)

Vrissy isn't the same classpect (thief of light) as Vriska or just can't have a classpect due to this timeline lacking canonicity; alternatively, the difference in classpect is in part due to the timeline falling outside of or (in other words) beyond canon.

Is that part of why Vriska can tell it's phony? The lack of Vrissy having her own classpect? Or is Vriska cosmically tuned-in somehow to knowing something is wrong? I mean some of the stuff that has happened is pretty wonky, but I feel like this is part of her powers as a character. She's always been a key point in moving things forward & now that things aren't moving much at all in regards to canon, she is here to steal the spotlight & shed some light on this whole thing.

When/if Vriska fixes the canon, will Vrissy vanish along with the other characters or become changed? Similar to the hypothetical dream sequence we see near the end of Adventure Time Fionna & Cake, perhaps. Alternatively, will classpects suddenly be thrust upon all the new characters & their existence as well as their personalities remain??

There's much to think about here, let me all know what you think! 💜

[pureanonofficial]

Why you're nuthin' but a mangy dog and somebody orta shoot you.

[fleet-off]

My mom, two days off a hemorrhagic stroke: It’s frustrating because I keep forgetting where the correct buttons are and the screen makes my headache worse, but I did manage to send six work emails this morning, arranged a discussion on the website redesign, moved that talk with the associate dean about my job title to Zoom--

[phoenixcatch7]

Just got all the memories.... Brb I'm going to curl up and cry now. My girl...........

[janiehellion]

Healing Touch

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ

MASTERLIST

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[fanficlolsblog]

THE CO-STAR

back to my main masterlist

pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

warnings: none.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

part 2

The set of Wednesday buzzed with the usual hum of activity as cameras rolled and crew members scurried around. I, Y/N, had grown accustomed to the frenetic energy that accompanied a day on set. However, today was different. Jenna Ortega and I had another love scene to film, and despite our professional demeanor, there was a palpable tension between us. It wasn't the sort of tension that adds spice to a performance; it was more like an icy chill that made every interaction feel awkward.

Jenna and I had never quite clicked. It wasn't as if we openly clashed; it was more a matter of unspoken animosity. She rarely looked me in the eye, and when she did, it was with a cold, guarded expression. I had heard murmurs among the crew that she wasn't thrilled about our on-screen relationship, but I had hoped that we could set personal differences aside for the sake of the show. I wanted to believe that we were professionals who could separate our private feelings from our work. It seemed, however, that Jenna had other ideas.

Today, we were set to rehearse a scene where her character, Wednesday, pulls my character in for a quick, passionate kiss. Tim Burton, our eccentric and demanding director, was in high spirits, throwing his creative energy into every detail. But there was an undeniable undercurrent of tension as Tim directed us to run through the scene.

"Alright, let's do it from the top," Tim instructed, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Remember, this kiss is supposed to be intense, full of emotion. Wednesday is making a bold move."

Jenna and I exchanged a brief glance. Her expression was unreadable, but I could sense a tightness in her posture that suggested discomfort. As we moved into position, Jenna's cool demeanor was evident. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.

"Action!" Tim called.

The scene required Jenna's character to seize the moment and pull me in for a heated kiss. I was ready; I had prepared for this scene, knowing it would demand a lot of us both. But Jenna, as she stepped in, seemed to carry an extra layer of reluctance.

As our lips met, I felt an immediate shift. What started as a forced peck transformed into something far more electric. Jenna's kiss was not just passionate; it was intense and fervent, as though she was trying to convey something beyond the script. Her hands moved from my shoulders to my head, holding me as if she were anchoring herself. I could feel the sudden and surprising intimacy of her touch. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, a reaction I hadn't anticipated.

The kiss felt like fireworks. Jenna was lost in the moment, forgetting the cameras, forgetting Tim's presence. Her lips were warm, her touch commanding. For a brief moment, it felt like she was pouring all her hidden emotions into that kiss.

"Cut!" Tim's voice rang out sharply, pulling us both back to reality. We pulled away, breathless. I could see Jenna's face flushed with a mix of surprise and irritation. I immediately felt a surge of embarrassment at the sound that had escaped me.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning. "I didn't mean to—"

Jenna managed a forced smile. "It's all good."

But her tone was clipped, and I noticed that she was avoiding eye contact. The rest of the day was a study in avoidance. Jenna seemed to deliberately keep her distance from me. She spoke only when necessary and made no attempt to bridge the gap that had widened between us.

It was frustrating and painful. The dynamic had shifted so suddenly, and it was clear that Jenna's reaction to the scene was affecting her beyond just a professional level. Despite her earlier attempt to be courteous, it was evident that she was uncomfortable.

When we wrapped up for the day, Jenna's departure was abrupt. She didn't linger to chat or exchange pleasantries as she usually would; instead, she hastily collected her things and left without a word. I was left standing there, a bit dumbfounded and more than a little hurt.

In the quiet of my dressing room, I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. The kiss had been intense, and Jenna's reaction afterward was confusing. It was hard to decipher whether her reluctance stemmed from personal feelings or just the overwhelming nature of the scene itself. I knew that the kiss was supposed to be a dramatic moment, but it felt like it had crossed into something more complex, something that neither of us had anticipated.

I tried to focus on my work and the scenes ahead, but Jenna's avoidance was a lingering distraction. I hoped that with time, we could talk things through and address whatever had happened. It was clear that the kiss had stirred up more than just the usual performance issues. The intensity of the scene had somehow become a real and unsettling force in our interactions.

As I walked out of the studio, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and hope. I wanted to believe that Jenna and I could overcome this awkward phase. After all, we were both committed to making Wednesday a success, and that required teamwork and understanding.

But for now, the tension between us was palpable, and the road to reconciliation seemed long and uncertain.

[seventeenpins]

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

[meazalykov]

mind is well beyond my years

ingrid engen x reader

part one - part two here

summary: age wasn't going to stop you from being with the older woman

warnings: age gap (5 years) , reader being a flirt

as you step into the lounge, your eyes immediately start searching for her.

it’s a typical afternoon tuesday at the training ground, players scattered around, some deep in conversation, others scrolling through their phones, some breaking in their new cleats. but your focus is singular—ingrid.

you spot her near the window, her dark hair catching the light as she laughs at something fridolina said.

that laugh, it always does something to you, makes your heart skip a beat and your thoughts scatter. it’s been like this for a while now, this crush that you can’t seem to shake.

she’s older, more experienced, and undeniably out of your league, or at least that’s what you tell yourself every time she brushes off your flirtations.

but you’re not one to back down easily.

you make your way over, a casual smile on your face as you lean against the back of the chair she’s sitting in.

“hey, ingrid,” you greet, your tone light but laced with intent.

"hey, y/n! how are you?" she smiles.

“I’m okay— i just wanted to say that i saw your post from last night. you looked amazing in that ivory sweater, as always.” you comment.

“thanks, y/n,” ingrid replies. she glances up at you, her expression now unreadable from the smile she had moments ago.

her tone was polite, but almost distant. it’s the same response she always gives—acknowledging your compliment without giving you anything more to work with.

it’s frustrating, but you can’t help yourself. there’s something about her that draws you in, despite the coolness in her responses.

“I'm serious” you continue, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm.

“you have a way of looking good all of the time, I'm not sure if its jealousy or something else." you hint.

“you’re exaggerating.” she shakes her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“not at all,” you insist, grinning. “just calling it like i see it.”

before you can push any further, fridolina walks over, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks between the two of you.

“mind if i steal ingrid for a bit?” she asks, not really waiting for your answer before she’s pulling ingrid up by the arm and leading her toward a quieter corner of the room.

you watch them go, your curiosity piqued. something about the way fridolina’s whispering and the slight tension in ingrid’s shoulders makes you wonder what’s going on.

you’re not usually one to eavesdrop, but this feels different. your gut feeling tells you that its important.

edging closer, you try to be as discreet as possible. the last thing you want is to get caught, but you can’t help it. you have to know what they’re talking about.

“i don’t know what to do,” ingrid’s voice drifts to you, low and uncertain.

“she’s just… she’s so young, frido. i can’t get involved with her, can i?”

your heart skips a beat. are they talking about you? you lean in a little closer, holding your breath.

“she’s only a few years younger,” fridolina replies softly.

“and she’s clearly crazy about you. honestly, ingrid, i think you’re overthinking this. nobody would judge you if something were to happen between you two.” fridolina continues.

“but i’ve always kept things professional with her, you know? and now i’m worried i’ve gone and caught feelings.” ingrid sighs, and you can practically hear the conflict in her voice.

your pulse quickens at her words. ingrid likes you? you’re not sure whether to be thrilled or terrified, but one thing is clear: you need to talk to her.

walking into that corner of the room, you take a deep breath and call her name.

“ingrid,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. both women turn to look at you, surprise evident on their faces. “can we talk?”

fridolina gives ingrid a knowing look before excusing herself, leaving the two of you alone. ingrid fidgets with the sleeve of the black training kit, avoiding your gaze.

it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her, and it tugs at your heart.

“so,” you begin, taking a step closer, “you've caught feelings, huh?”

ingrid’s cheeks flush slightly as she finally meets your eyes.

“you weren’t supposed to hear that,” she mutters, but there’s no real anger in her voice.

“maybe not,” you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips, “but i’m glad i did. because i think it’s time we stopped dancing around this.”

“y/n, you’re so young. you're twenty-one and i didn’t think you were serious about… all of this.” she lets out a small, exasperated laugh, shaking her head.

“i’ve been serious from the start. i just thought you were out of my league, you know?” you raise an eyebrow, giving her a playful smirk.

“you? thinking someone’s out of your league?” she teases back, and you’re relieved to see the tension in her shoulders ease slightly.

“you’ve never been shy about flirting with me.” she walks forward. you don't bother to step back.

“well,” you say, voice dropping to a more sincere tone, “that’s because i’ve always liked you, ingrid. and i’d really like to give this a shot, if you’re up for it.”

ingrid’s eyes search yours, and you can see the conflict still warring within her. but then, slowly, she nods.

“okay,” she says softly. “let’s see where this goes.”

“i promise you won’t regret this.” you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“you’re impossible, y/n.” she chuckles, shaking her head.

“impossible to resist, you mean,” you quip, earning a genuine laugh from her this time.

the sound is music to your ears, and as you walk out of the room together, you smile at fridolina who understands the bond that was just formed.

part two here

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘

the mother of the kids you babysit is sinfully hot, and she happens to be going through a messy divorce, so, of course, you're gonna do what you can to help out.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x top!babysitter!gn!reader

🌸 cont: almost smut (18+), major age gap, teasing, flirting, what kind of oneshot would this be if i didn't add love to the lust, pregnancy kink kinda, or just a thing for hot moms in general

🌸 word count: 1.9k

🌸 note: i know i'm supposed to be on break... scold me after

To say you had an unhealthy obsession with the mother of the kids you babysat would be an understatement.

Understated by such a far amount that it dug beyond the trenches of the center of the universe.

Because you were utterly, filthily, encompassingly, sinfully, and completely enthralled by the mere thought of Wanda Maximoff.

She was leaning over the kitchen counter, low-cut shirt emboldening the tantalising cleavage she had, speaking to her kids in that sexy motherly tone that drove you wild.

“Mommy’s gonna be cheering you boys on for your football game tomorrow, alright?”

Wanda was every one of your wet dreams embodied as a breathtaking woman, so utterly gorgeous beyond dictionaried words that you nearly fell to your knees in the presence of her beauty the first time you saw her. 

Especially now, that she was pregnant with her third child.

It took every cell of your willpower to not start drooling when you laid your eyes on her these days: with her glowing features that had aged like fine wine, or her rounded and full breasts, so tight against the seams of her shirt, or her big belly you just longed to caress. 

Sometimes you’d think Wanda felt the same for you.

All the times she would ‘accidentally’ brush her ass against your crotch area when squeezing through a narrow gap, pressing into you for a moment too long to be considered accidental. 

Or the times she would complain to you about her messy divorce with Vision, lamenting about her lawyers and social workers and saying that you were the only one that could calm her down. 

But the two of you were worlds apart, because she paid you to be the babysitter for her kids. That was what was holding you back, from bending her over the kitchen counter every time she brushed passed you with that ass.

“Y/N?” 

Wanda’s sweet voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look up guiltily at having been caught staring. When you come to your senses, you’ve realized that the boys have already left for school that day. 

The mother tilts her head to the side with a little grin, and your heart does a flip. “What’re you thinking about that’s got you so distracted, hm?” she asks, propping her head up with a hand while resting her elbow on the counter. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, pushing in some chairs to busy your hands. “Uni stuff,” you reply, the lie slipping through your lips surprisingly easily. “It’s quite stressful, with exam season ‘round the corner.” 

It wasn’t a secret that you were nearly twenty years younger than Wanda, but it made your little forbidden crush all the more thrilling. The way you would take time out of your weekends to spend time with Wanda and the kids, disregarding party invites and forgoing study time. It was probably not a good move, but your horniness seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Mhm, uni was a lifetime ago for me,” Wanda reminisces, lifting her arms up to stretch. Your eyes are shamefully glued to the curve of her belly as her shirt rides up. “You’re so mature for your age, though, Y/N. Wish you were around during my time.” 

“What?” you nearly choke on your words, unsure if you had interpreted her correctly. It was too good to be true – Wanda had never been this forward.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t sell yourself short,” the mother says easily, smiling brightly as if she wasn’t the cause of your burning arousal. “Captain of the football team, eh? You can also cook, clean, fix cars, do gardening, and fix sinks. And you’re good with kids! I bet you have all the girls in uni chasing after you.”

Wanda’s surge of compliments does wonders for your ego, but the only thing you genuinely care about was your availability for her. You’ve had girls in your level lust after you, sure, but Wanda was a secret solace that was different from them all.

“Maybe,” you say cryptically, failing to hide a smirk at the look that washes over Wanda’s face. 

“Do you? Someone from school?” Wanda asks, the teasing lilt in her voice dissipating almost immediately, instead being replaced with something akin to jealousy.

Fuck, you wanted her so bad.

“Hmm, sure,” you tease, liking this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. “She looks a bit like you.”

Wanda can’t seem to keep the annoyance off her face, and it’s adorably funny. And kind of hot, too. “That’s nice. Are you dating her?” 

You laugh, walking up to Wanda to help her with the dishes she was currently unpacking from the dryer. “Nah. Sometimes I think she wants me, but I also think she’s way outta my league.”

‘Way outta my league’ my ass, more like ‘way outta my appropriate age group.’

As Wanda watches you pick up a glass bowl, she feels a surge of emotion well up from inside that causes her to tear up.

Of course, she would never have you, it was just silly to want her babysitter. You had so many younger, fitter, eligible partners, all waiting to have you. Young pretty girls who had problems with the colour of their lipstick, not problems with pregnancy and divorce lawyers and shitty husbands.

When you look back to see Wanda’s state of tears, worry taints your features instantaneously. “My emotions are all over the place because of the pregnancy,” Wanda says between shaky breaths. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

In wordless acknowledgement, you put down the dishes and sweep Wanda off her feet. You lift her from under her back and thighs, firm hands steadying her as you walk up the stairs. Wanda looks up at you, feeling so utterly vulnerable all of a sudden, but you send her a warm smile that simultaneously calms her down and awakes butterflies in her stomach.

She takes the time to brush her hands over your arms, then your neck. You were so strong, so calming, everything she had ever needed. Now, the feeling of your hands so close to where she’d imagined you so many times was a good distraction.

When you reach the bedroom, you move the pillows and set her down gently, all with her arms wrapped around your neck. With a striking realisation, Wanda knows that she’s never felt this safe with anyone ever, so warm and so inviting, and she never wanted to let you go.

You leave for a while to get some things, and reappear in Wanda’s bedroom with a glass of warm water and some painkillers. There are chocolates in the mix, the peanut butter kind that soothes Wanda down immensely.

“You’re too good for me,” Wanda says breathily, the sheen of sweat that had covered her forehead now being tenderly wiped away by you. You shrug plainly. You just wanted to provide for her, take care of her and her kids and all her sexual needs. treat Wanda like the queen she was, nothing at all like the bags of garbage that was her husband.

Before you know it, you lean down to press a kiss against Wanda’s warm forehead in an act of affection. The moment is sweet, and soft, so much like what you’d imagined.

Wanda freezes up for a moment, and you do the same. “Sorry,” you choke out, moving back quickly, but the older woman was quick to grip your forearm and prevent you from escaping.

“Stay.”

Your breath stills in your throat, eyes wide. You’re hovering over Wanda from the side of the bed, while the woman lays down just inches away from you. Her hair is splayed across the pillows, her pupils are blown, and her lips are so close to yours. So, so close.

Time slows down as you tilt your head to meet her lips, chasing that forbidden little paradise you’d been seeking for months. You instinctively place a hand on the swell of her belly, and Wanda shudders at your touch.

She places a hand on the side of your face, fingers skating over your cheekbones, and the electricity that runs through your blood makes you feel more alive than you’d ever been. 

You can feel her warm breath on your lips, tantalising.

You can see her closed eyelids, anticipating.

You can taste that forbidden paradise, addicting.

But the moment is broken like shattered glass when the sound of the doorbell resounds around the house.

“Fuck,” Wanda whispers, jumping into action, scrambling to pull herself together. “It’s my husband. He was gonna come today to collect his shit.” You back away from her, face burning in embarrassment at how excited and desperate you’d been.

“Sorry,” you say awkwardly, watching her check her reflection in the bedroom mirror. “I’ll go now. I won’t bother you anymore.” The sound of keys unlocking the door has you resigning to your fate.

Wanda whips her head around in record time. Only then does she notice your downcast gaze. “Baby,” she croons, coming up to you to cradle your face in her hands. “You know it’s not like that.”

You let out an incoherent grumble, but Wanda cuts you off by pressing her lips against yours in a quick fashion, far too quick for your liking. Nonetheless, you’re left reeling and heart pounding, staring at the older woman wide-eyed.

“I’m divorcing him,” Wanda continues, briskly walking towards the door like she hadn’t just turned your life upside down. “After that, you can have me all to yourself–”

Before Wanda knows what hit her, she’s being pushed against the wall with your lips on hers. You’re quick, and rough, like you’d die without the taste of her tongue. You slide a knee between her big thighs, relentless and stealing her every breath. Wanda moans against you, hands helplessly pinned against the door, her heart beating all too quick.

“Wanda? You there?” A not-so-distant voice calls, then footsteps are heard trudging up the stairs. Spurred on by the movement, you possessively slip a hand up Wanda’s shirt, sliding over her pregnant belly and then to her big breasts, squeezing it in your palm.

“F-fuck,” the mom whimpers, dizzied with your undying fervour. She can feel the wetness in her panties pool, hormones dancing all over the place, her brain screaming at her to let her fuck you right up against the wall and make her cum in front of her husband.

“Tomorrow,” Wanda whispers, as the footsteps edge closer and closer. You pull away, just like that, your hands smoothing over her shirt and resting unnecessarily long on her hardened buds.

Wanda almost laughs in disbelief at your incredible boldness, but after a few seconds the door clicks open and she freezes. 

“What’re you doing?” Vision asks suspiciously, emerging from behind the doorway like a figment of her worst dreams.

Wanda turns her head to look at you, for you’d been standing right there just a moment ago. Now, all that’s left is an empty room, a window wide open, and the howling wind.

“Nothing much,” Wanda replies, turning to Vision with a cryptic smile. “Other than moving on from you, obviously.”

Just two floors down, you’re getting onto your skateboard and whizzing away from the house with your legs shaking in adrenaline. Your blood is pumping and your hands are numb, but this little fantasy of yours leaves your heart soaring higher than it ever had before.

i was too lazy to add the taglist, sorry yall. anyways come and yell at me in my asks rn

read part 2 | main m.list | AO3

[uriwoos2]

bnd with a bookworm s/o . . .· ୨𐍸୧

ꕤ overview: boynextdoor dating a bookworm! genre: fluff. warnings: none. word count: 3.1k requested: yes! ♡ note: this is one of my favorite things I've ever worked on, so I sincerely wish it turned out well >< wrote it with the help of my dearest @blumisiu and her wonderful ideas <3 so I'm dedicating this to vivi and everyone who considers themselves a bookworm! this is for u, hope you enjoy hehe^^ likes & reblogs are very appreciated! — with love, cream <3 . . . @onedoornet

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂❀

sungho

𐚁๋࣭⊹ he's the type to read himself actually! but not so often that he'd consider it a hobby. he finds it to be a relaxing way to enjoy his leisure time. so when he finds out that you like reading too, he'd be absolutely thrilled!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ beyond happy that you guys have something in common. might start reading a lot more, just so he can have stuff to talk to you about :( will probably recommend you books he has read and liked especially, wanting to know your opinions on some of his favorite books! ⊹₊˚

𐚁๋࣭⊹ you would spend lots of quiet evenings reading together <3 when you both have nothing else to do, or if you happen to have some free time, you'll both be situated on either the bed or the couch, all comfy, heads tucked into your respective books, in the shared space overcome by pleasant silence that envelopes you both. (ˆ꜆ . ̫ . ). ̫ . ���ˆ) ♡ the soft sound of the pages being flipped the only thing disrupting the quiet. the soft glow of the sun setting shining through the window, providing warmth.

𐚁๋࣭⊹ in such moments you and sungho would mostly settle for gentle, barely-there touches, where one of you would put your hand over the other's, letting it rest there, or tracing faint shapes on each other's thighs, and when you'd simply convey your affection through tiny smiles and eyes full of fondness, for the sake of not disturbing one another's personal bubble <3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ on occasion, when you're both up to it, you decide to do the reading outdoors! you'd go to check out new coffee shops and read while enjoying warm drinks and relish in each other's company. ⋅˚₊‧ you'd switch it up from time to time, and take your reading dates to libraries and parks^^ sungho says this allows you both to get out more, and that it's good to get some much needed sunshine! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა he'll also plan a day for you to visit art galleries or museums sometimes (if ur into that ^^) knowing you appreciate admiring art in all shapes and forms. he'll hold your hand as you both enjoy inspecting different exhibits and will point out the tiny details to you. he's just considerate like that :'( <3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ you both seem to favour library dates the most! you think it's probably because of the atmosphere there being so ideal for reading, the scent of books creating a sort of sanctuary, that you can escape to when you feel the need. of course, you're more than happy to take your wonderful lover with you, with whom you'd exchange lovesick giggle-inducing subtle touches of your fingertips over the table, warm palms resting on each other's thighs, all innocent and soft. you'd have to remind one another to quiet down at times, resuming to whisper silly jokes in each other's ear in hushed voices. the library seemingly exuding a certain air of romance too, apparently.. ૮ / / / ⍝ა ·˚

riwoo

𐚁๋࣭⊹ this baby is definitely the type to be more quiet and subtle with his reactions, smiling to himself whenever he spots you w a book in your hands and a concentrated look on your face, finding your habit of bringing it everywhere with you just so adorable.. </3 he'll be simply sitting there, silently watching with love in his eyes, in awe at the sight of you doing something you so dearly love 𐔌ᵔ⁔ ܸ. ̫ .⁔ ͡ 𐦯..

𐚁๋࣭⊹ he wouldn't mind at all, if you devote a big amount of your time to this hobby, as he thinks it's essential to have an outlet to release your tension through! he gets you the most, as he has his own form of escape that he indulges in quite often. riwoo's love for video games and your love for books don't make you clash, actually it's the total opposite!! it's both of you guys' favorite thing to share the same space, as you engage in your respective hobbies. the atmosphere always so harmonious and comfortable, as riwoo puts extra effort into keeping quiet, just so you can read in peace ૮₍ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎ა such a considerate lover :'( ♡

𐚁๋࣭⊹ on the weekends he'd organize cute little picnic dates for you! especially, when the weather's fine and the temperature is just right <3 he'd bring along jjangyi and daebak w him sometimes too! these instances filled with lots of laughter and fun ૮₍˃̵֊ ˂̵ ₎ა and of course, we can't forget that our boy has the biggest sweet tooth, so obviously there'll be various treats to munch on as you enjoy one another's company ^^ riwoo would totally blush so hard when you recite romantic quotes from books for him.. each of your words making his heart flutter, his demeanor visibly shy.. smiling at you giddily with rosy cheeks (◌´ ˘ `ς) he loves it so much pls </3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ as I mentioned before, riwoo will be super respectful of your reading time. he'll only occasionally pop in to softly ask if you need him to bring you anything, offering you snacks and water! >< but otherwise, he'll remain as silent as possible, not wanting to disturb you :( he might just settle next to you and lay his head in your lap as he closes his eyes, basking in the comfort of the moment.*·.˚⊹ other types of minimal skinship with him would include him idly playing with the fingers on your free hand, tucking a strand of hair that's fallen in your face back into its place, and pressing his lips to your shoulder / the top of your head as he passes past where you're situated. 。゜(՞っ ‹՞)

𐚁๋࣭⊹ riwoo gets so worried about you sometimes, and won't hold back on confronting you about paying more attention to your health! >:( will scold you if you stay up late to read, constantly emphasizing the importance of sleep. might also comment on your bad posture, as he delicately traces the line of your spine to ease the tension in your back. ૮(*´. . ) he'll also keep reminding you not to read in the dark, to avoid straining your eyes.. but besides just being fussy, he'll express his care through subtle acts of service^^ he'll put on some calm backround music if you're fine w that, clean your glasses for you (if you wear some) and leave silly little love notes in your books, just to make you giggle once you've found them. </3 he's the best really.... (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

jaehyun

𐚁๋࣭⊹ he's the embodiment of a super clingy boyfie, who's curious about everything you do! and your love for books certainly doesn't slip past him ^^ he finds it so very fascinating that you're able to occupy yourself for so long just reading words... on a piece of paper.. ₍ᐡ-᷅ ·̫ -᷄ᐡ₎? he actually thinks it's a really great skill, and he admires you immensely for it! I don't see him as the type to read, although he'd probably give it a try for your sake, to see what has you so entertained for hours on end!! ><

𐚁๋࣭⊹ but that won't really go far I fear.. after a couple of attempts, he says he'll just go back to his comics/manga.. (he's so totally the type to collect and read them hehe) might offer you try out his stuff too, but in the end you guys would probably decide to just stick to your own interests. ^^

𐚁๋࣭⊹ however! this doesn't mean jaehyun wouldn't absolutely adore being dragged to bookstores and book fairs, loving how excited you get over them!! ✩₊˚ he'd bring a bag with water bottles, snacks and a camera! you guys would probably go for a walk in the park afterwards, to eat and rest after a tiring day of browsing.. he'd pick delicate little flowers and put them in your hair prettily, secretly plotting to take lots of pictures of you like this (◠ﾵ ◠υ)♡ he has to put the camera to use after all!! ^^ he'll take on the responsibility to ensure your day goes perfectly, so that you're able to enjoy the experience to it's full potential! oh, how sweet he is,, please </3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ remember how I said he's clingy?? cuz I mean that with my entire being. he totally loves watching you do your own thing, don't get me wrong, his cheeks will get tired from smiling after staring at you for so long! :( but. he needs your attention too! he wants you to focus on him sometimes, with nothing else on your mind. he's such a baby about it too.. like "૮₍ •⤙•˶ა he'll keep bothering you until he successfully gets your attention, asking you with a pout to look at him!! >< and then will proceed to trap you with his arms in the world's tightest hug, just so you can't escape. </3 he just wants his baby all to himself.. ૮ -᷄ ˕ - ᷅ა

𐚁๋࣭⊹ but who says you can't do both at the same time?.. jaehyun absolutely adores the nights when you read to him before bed. <3 you're sitting up, while jaehyun is laying with his head tucked into your side, sharing warmth under the dim glow of the nightlight. this way he's able to cuddle with you, and you can get some reading done, everyone's happy! ദ്ദി˶ｰ̀֊ｰ́ ) ✧ the lovable puppy gets so snuggly and sleepy that he'll keep yawning in-between every couple sentences you read aloud.. :'( but he'll insist that you continue! since he wants you to finish the chapter. he'll hug your waist even closer, as his eyes gradually flutter shut and he can't fight the drowsiness anymore, dozing off to dreamland... ( ु⁎ᴗ_ᴗ⁎)ु.｡when you notice that your baby's fallen asleep, a small smile tugs at your lips as you're putting down the book, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before hugging him back and drifting off yourself. (っ˘·(˘ ᵜ ˘ ) <3

taesan

𐚁๋࣭⊹ i feel like, because he likes putting his thoughts and feelings into pretty words in order to incorporate them into his song lyrics, he'd like it a lot if his s/o also had a certain appreciation for eloquent words and such.. because, not only would this mean that you'd be able to fully grasp the meaning behind his work, but beyond that it would ensure that the both of you can understand each other's feelings well and communicate on a deeper level too. ^·^!

𐚁๋࣭⊹ another perk of this is that, he'd absolutely adore to receive handwritten letters from you!! as a an avid reader and hopeless romantic, you've always wanted to express your feelings of fondness toward your lover through this medium, but never got the chance to, until taesan.♡ he didn't make you feel odd for wanting to indulge in such an unconventional little pastime, quite the opposite actually! he would constantly be re-reading the letters, especially while away from you, tracing the lines of ink in your handwriting, thinking of you dearly.. :'( he'd keep them in the top drawer of his desk, neatly stacked, organized and well taken care of. ᨳᥩ ᪲◞ ◟)𑁬 <3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ it would always give him so much reassurance and make his heart tighten at the thought, that your love for him is unfaltering, and the letters only acted as clear evidence of that..♡ plus, he'd happily write some letters in response to your's!! he'd want to show his gratitude in some way, and he's also really into this old-fashioned way of communication, thinks it's romantic and so very intimate.. ૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა ♡ˎˊ˗

𐚁๋࣭⊹ we shouldn't forget to mention that he's quite into reading himself as well! would be open to being introduced to new genres and tropes! and would most definitely listen to you go off about the book you're currently reading, actually soaking up all the details, besides just admiring your passion for the subject. I mean.. he's curious too!! ^^ <3 he'd read the books you like, in order to have something to talk with u about ! but he'll actually be really into them himself! ( ◜‿◝ )*.✧

𐚁๋࣭⊹ will definitely tag along when you go shopping for books! but most of the time you guys would actually plan the whole thing together, making it a date!! <3 it'd probably start off in a bookstore, with the both of you picking out books. sometimes you'd choose for each other and then surprise one another with them! >< the urge to read would most likely get you situated in a nearby cafe, where you'd fully immerse yourselves into your individual stories. you'd then discuss the topics explored in your books, as you hold hands on your way home. <3 such seemingly uneventful dates being your's and taesan's absolute favorite. ૮ ◜ᵕ◝ ྀིა ₊˚

leehan

𐚁๋࣭⊹ to leehan, your love for reading is one of your charming points, one of the reasons as to why he fell for you. (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)"੭ seeing you so into something that requires a lot of attention and dedication, makes him believe that you're an intricate person, somebody that's full of complexity and lots of layers, who also takes the time to grasp concepts and people thoroughly. he thinks of you very highly, respects you to no end and finds you to be the most intelligent person in his life, even if he himself isn't that well versed in literature. ૮ ․ ․ ᪲ა

𐚁๋࣭⊹ you usually tend to read at home, where you feel it's most comfortable and quiet. leehan is aware of this and doesn't really bother you, but when he sees you quietly tucked in a corner reading, all immersed in your book, he can't help but stop for a moment or two to admire your effortless beauty. >< to him, you're the most beautiful when you're doing the things you love doing, in your element and just being you. <3 after gazing at you from across the room for a bit, he'll slowly sneak up on you from the back, whispering a quiet "hey, baby." in your ear, placing a soft kiss to your neck. ૮₍ ྀི∩៸៸៸∩ ྀི₎ა

𐚁๋࣭⊹ you're so used to all this, that you know the next step will inevitably involve him finding his usual place on top of you, smoothly placing his body between your legs. he'll rest his head either on your chest or your tummy, with his arms snugly hugging your middle, asking you gently to please read aloud to him. he's just a gentle, lovesick boy.. ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა

𐚁๋࣭⊹ truthfully, he's requesting this solely because he likes listening to you speak. he thinks your voice is the softest, and has a certain comforting tone to it. to him, it's one of the most captivating parts of you, the part that your inner beauty shines through <3 you're well aware of his hidden agenda, but he just looks so sweet with his head on your chest like this, and he's asking so nicely too.. :'( you have to give him what he wants. <3 so he lays there idly, admiring the way words take shape via your pretty voice, lips forming into a small smile, occasionally resting them on your belly in tiny, loving kisses. ( ᐡ. ̫ .ᐡ ) </3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ sometimes he'll fall asleep as you're reading to him, and other times, when he's feeling particularly invested in the story, he'll ask simple questions.. this just urges you to explain things to him in more detail, which, to leehan, ends up being way more entertaining than simply reading the book :') he likes listening to you reason and get all passionate about the subject, finding your display of intellect immensely attractive, and the glint of excitement in your eyes purely adorable. <3 <3

woonhak

𐚁๋࣭⊹ when he first discovered that you like to read, he was sort of intimidated by the fact, thinking he wouldn't be able to find common ground with you. (ˆ꜆ . ̫ . ).ᐟ but eventually he got over the initial fear, and decided to try out reading for himself!! of course the main purpose of his decision was to indulge in something his partner enjoys, in order to get closer to them, but he also wants to treat it as a chance to learn something from the experience, and grow as a person! ˎˊ˗ what a cutie he is ><

𐚁๋࣭⊹ he'll be the most adorable, excitable boy asking you for book recommendations ૮ ´ ˘ ` ა <3 he's so enthusiastic about it that your heart wouldn't be able to take it, seeing how eager he is to try out reading just for you. :'(( you'd take him to a bookstore, so he can pick out the book himself! since you're unsure of what he'll like, you wanna give him a chance to find something that strikes his interest !! <3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ but baby is a bit overwhelmed with all the genres and so so many books to choose from.. (՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) that eventually he just asks for your help. so with your help and suggestions, you guys are able to find one that he's into ! (✿◠ᴗ◠) he'll start reading it on the same day right before bed, so he can give you some kind of feedback on it the next day, but.. he gets distracted a few pages in and drifts off to sleep ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა </3

𐚁๋࣭⊹ will definitely observe you closely and with awe as you're reading, aand if you're annotating too, he'll be straight up transfixed on each of your tiny movements. he's just so fascinated with the fact that so much work goes into reading a book (* ॑ ॑* )?? asks you questions and also to teach him how to do it, bcuz he's secretly planning to try and annotate a book for you :( for that he'll probably pick out one of your most favorites, wanting to surprise you with it ! </3 woonhak is the most thoughtful boy :(

𐚁๋࣭⊹ I feel as though, once he finds a genre he really enjoys, he's gonna adore reading! (even if it takes him a while to finish a book^^) so much so that he'd make solo trips to the bookstore, just to find some books similar to the one he just finished! (..◜ᴗ◝..) and while he's there, he'll look around for you as well, already giddy at the thought of gifting you a book, knowing you'll be ecstatic about it! ♡ˎˊ˗ I can just picture woonhak with a bright smile on his face, browsing through shelves full of books, looking for one that his lover will like.. (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑) on top of this, he'll get you all the necessary supplies, like colorful sticky tabs and pretty pens and pastel highlighters he's seen you using.. lovely baby just wants to make you happy :( <3

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "helloooo! can you write something about reader suspecting paige and azzi’s friendship to be more than a friendship (r and paige are a situationship or sum like that) and just paige reassuring her and saying that she has eyes only for her etc… (paige is literally obsessed with r)? thank you so much 💖💖💖💖💖"

─ word count | 1.3k

─ warnings | hurt to comfort, paige being sassy, reassurance and so much cute fluffy, a singular kiss

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOU AND PAIGE had been friends for a while now, but it was just recently you'd been friends... and a little more.

It was something new, something fun and something secret. The only person who knows was KK only because she'd walked in on the two of you kissing, and now she swears she's "traumatized."

The secret relationship (of some sorts) between you and Paige added an exhilarating edge to your friendship. It was a thrill, the stolen glances, the secretive rendezvous, the whispered conversations laden with double meanings. You found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that went beyond friendship, yet you both reveled in the secretive nature of your relationship.

KK's discovery of your secret sent a ripple of panic through both of you at first. But unsurprisingly, she was more supportive than expected, despite her initial shock. After the initial awkwardness wore off, she became your confidante, the one person you could trust with your affair. She teased you both mercilessly, of course, but it was all in good fun.

But beneath the excitement, there was also a hint of panic. Keeping your newfound romance a secret added an element of danger, a thrill that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The fear of being discovered lurked in the background, heightening every stolen moment and making each encounter feel all all the more precious.

Yet despite the risks, the connection between you and Paige only seemed to grow stronger. The shared laughter, the stolen kisses, the quiet moments of intimacy — they all served to deepen the bond between you, creating a private world that was uniquely yours.

But of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing.

──

"What do you mean?" Paige's tone had an annoyed edge to it as she sent you a glance. She pulled off a side of her headphones as she kept her eyes glued on the computer screen.

You sighed exasperatedly, sitting up on her bed as you sent her a glare. "What do you think I mean?"

Paige hated when you spoke like that, so secretive and cryptic, like you wanted her to say the wrong thing. She liked things laid out plain and simple, while you preferred to dance around topics, especially ones that felt too vulnerable.

"I don't know, that's why I asked." Paige's voice didn't soften as she spoke, her eyes glancing at you every once in a while. She just had the most tiring practices and the last thing she wanted to do was argue with you.

You huffed, feeling frustrated. "I feel like Azzi has a crush on you or something. I see the way she looks at you, it's like when I look at you — all heart eyes, and shit."

Paige's lips curved into a smirk. "Aww, are you saying you have heart eyes for me?"

"I'm being serious, P." You were frustrated. You hated when you felt insecure, especially in relationships. While Paige never gave you any reason to doubt her, she was just naturally enticing and that's what pulled you to her in the first place.

But that's also why others were so captivated by her. The looks she gets, the way people spoke about her and now the whole TikTok obsession wasn't helping. You hated it — you wanted everyone to know that she was yours, and vice versa.

"Okay, okay." Paige's expression was still very much amused as she glanced toward you. "You know me and Azzi are just friends, we're just really close. I promise you, I'd know if she had a crush on me."

"I have eyes, Paige." You shot back, frustration bubbling in your voice.

You couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity gnawing at you, no matter how much you trusted Paige. The thought of someone else vying for her attention filled you with a sense of unease that you couldn't shake. You also knew that there was still that boundary, you weren't her girlfriend and had no valid reason for you to be jealous.

Paige's eyes widened at your tone. You never called her just by her name, it was some kind of nickname or pet name. She sighed as she pulled her headset off and set it down, turning to face you.

"Hey," Paige began gently, reaching out to take your hand in hers. "You have to believe me when I say there's nothing going on between me and Azzi. She's just a really good friend and she's not into me, and even if she is,"

She paused as she shook her head in amusement at the mere thought. "I don't want her, I want you."

You sighed, still feeling frustrated. "I want to believe you, P. I really do. But it's hard, you know? Seeing how close you two are, and... and knowing that I don't have any claim over you."

She squeezed your hand reassuringly, offering you a small smile. "I know it's not easy, especially when we haven't defined what we are yet. But that doesn't change how I feel about you."

You looked up, meeting her gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. But all you found was sincerity in her eyes.

"I care about you, more than I can put into words," Paige continued softly. "And I want you to feel secure in what we have, even if it's not official. You mean a lot to me."

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at Paige's words. Despite your doubts, her sincerity shone through, washing away some of your insecurities. Her hand in yours felt warm and comforting, grounding you in the present as you allowed yourself to bask in the affection she offered.

"I trust you, Paige," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And I care about you too, a lot."

"Besides," Paige continued, her tone playful as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Who needs Azzi when I've got you? You're the one I can't stop thinking about, the one who drives me crazy in the best possible way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, feeling a rush of affection for the girl sitting beside you. As you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, Paige's expression shifted, a teasing glint entering her eyes.

"And uh, speaking of claims," she began, her tone teasing as she traced a finger along your jawline. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Can't seem to get you out of my head."

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, really? And what exactly have you been thinking about?"

Paige leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours as she whispered, "Just how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how much I want to make you mine, officially."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, warmth spreading through you at the intensity of her gaze. In that moment, any lingering doubts melted away, leaving only the affection you'd felt for Paige.

"But not right now 'cus this isn't as romantic as I want," she continued as you scoffed playfully. You leaned away slightly only to be pulled back by the blonde.

Paige's playful smirk widened as she pulled you back towards her. "Hey, don't pout. I promise when the time comes, it'll be unforgettable."

"So, you're really going to make me wait?" you teased, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned into her touch.

Paige smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I want it to be perfect, baby. But for now," she added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, "just know that I'm all yours."

The warmth of her lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire within you. "I'll hold you to that," you murmured against her lips, feeling a surge of affection for the woman in front of you.

Paige smiled against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[riki-riks-chick]

I have a really big hard thought, like imagine being at a party with your friends Heeseung and Jake while you see your ex-boyfriend kissing another girl, you start to feel bad and Heeseung and Jake get jealous and decide to treat you like you deserve it taking you to their place to make you scream their names and both of them overstimulating you at the point you cry for it. If you can write something like this would be the end of me

Also I would like to be 🌪 anon

Life Of The Party ┃L.HS & S.JY

jake and heeseung x reader

yn focuses more on her ex than hs and jy so they give her something better to focus on.

cw: smut! fingering, pussy eating, dirty talk, jealousy (slight), crying, dacryphillia, swearing, threesome, kissing (mxm and fxm), neck kissing/marking, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, doggy style, missionary, parties, getting over a breakup, nipple/tit sucking, clit play, pleasurable torture, i think that's it

wdct: 3.6k

ty for the request this is the longest one yet 😁

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Third Person POV~

Being single seems to have given you more freedom. Your boyfriend cheated on you, and then you kicked him out of your apartment. You'd be lying if you said breaking up with him wasn't painful. Two years down the drain because your boyfriend cheated with some random girl. 

But you've sort of moved on.. You spend more time with your friends.. They make you happy, but part of you wants another relationship.

Your two closest friends, Jake and Heeseung, invited you to come with them to a party tonight. So you got ready and they came to pick you up. You weren't exactly thrilled, but Heeseung and Jake practically forced you, so you had no choice.

The party itself wasn't bad.. Everyone was nice and you even met a new guy. His name was Sunghoon you think, but the music was loud so you weren't completely sure. Either way he was pretty cute. 

You had a few drinks already to loosen up and not worry so much. Now you were sitting on the patio where fewer people were around. Just to breathe for a moment. Heeseung stepped out, sitting in the chair beside yours. "The whole point of bringing you here was to get you laid.. How can that happen if you're avoiding everyone?"

You sighed, downing the rest of your drink before setting the cup down. "I'm not really interested in getting laid.." You mumble, the alcohol starting to get to you. Heeseung groaned. "You're so stubborn.. Sunghoon was trying so hard to get in your pants.."

"He's not my type.. As much of a pretty boy he is, I'm just not digging it.." You reply and Heeseung sighs. "Tough.. What about Jongseong? He seemed to be into you.." He asks as you groan. "Heeseung, please.. Jongseong is hot, but he just got out of a relationship and I refuse to be someone's rebound."

Heeseung is beyond frustrated. All he wants for you is to get back into the lifestyle you had before you even dated that asshole. One night stands were fun.. Parties were stellar. You were just a different person then. A person that Heeseung misses dearly.

"Fine. I'm done trying to get you a good fuck.. But at least come inside and hang out with me and Jake.." He pouted, and you smiled, getting up. "Okay.. Come on.."

You walked behind Heeseung, letting him pull you  into the living room where Jake was playing beer pong with Jongseong and Sunghoon.

You sat down, taking the drink Heeseung had got for you before he sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

You glanced around the room before your eyes landed on the pair sitting on the couch opposite the one you were sitting on.

You thought you saw wrong at first, but low and behold, it's your ex and the girl he cheated with. His tongue is down her throat and she's on his lap. The whole view makes your stomach turn in disgust. 

After that, your whole mood is off. Jake is the first to notice, and without even confirming that you saw your ex kissing on that girl, he knows it's because you saw him. 

He doesn't blame you.. He knows that you haven't seen him since the breakup, so it's probably not easy, especially when he's with someone and you're hardly getting back to being yourself.

You excuse yourself, heading to the bathroom, and Jake calls Heeseung into the kitchen. "What's up, Yun?" He questions as Jake sighs. "She's clearly not happy right now.. That asshole just had to show up and show off his new piece right in front of her." He explains as Heeseung nods. "You noticed too?.."

Jake nods. "I think we could do something for her.. Because I'm honestly tired of that asshole getting more attention than us when he broke her heart and we've always been here.." 

Heeseung agrees, seemingly deep in thought of how they could make you feel better. He then whispers an idea to which Jake nods in agreement. "Let's do it."

They then head to the bathroom, knocking on the door as you open it. They immediately walk in with you, closing the door behind them. 

"What are you guys doing?.." You ask, shocked as Heeseung sighs. "We wanna take you home." He says plainly and you raise an eyebrow. "Why?.." You question as Jake steps in. "We noticed how you started frowning when you saw him.. I wanna know what face you'd make if it was just us.." He said, his tone slightly seductive. 

Heeseung chuckled, cupping your chin as he turned your head towards him. "We want what's best for you.. Just give us a chance to show you what you're missing, hm?.."

His tone is very persuasive, something that you definitely can't deny. And as much as this whole situation sounds wrong, you think it'll feel right. So you nod. "Okay.."

The two immediately beam at your response. Before you can register, they're pulling you out of the bathroom, not even bothering to say goodbye to their friends before dragging you outside and to the car.

Heeseung is driving, and Jake hops into the back seat beside you. You're quiet for the first half of the ride until Heeseung speaks. "Are you sure you wanna do this?.." He questions as you shrug. "I don't know.. Maybe I'm feeling adventurous right now.." You reply dully.

Heeseung pulls over, turning to face you in the backseat. "Y/n... I need you to be serious.. We're not going through with anything if you're not sure." 

You shrug yet again. "I don't know.. I've never had a threesome before.. I guess it's something to check off my bucket list." Jake chuckles at your reply, earning a glare from Heeseung.

"Are you absolutely sure you wanna do it?.. We're not gonna be gentle.." You nod in response. "I'm sure.. Question, though.. Have you two had a threesome together before?" You ask, already having a semblance of the answer, but wanting to confirm.

Jake nods. "Honestly, Heeseung and I have had multiple threesomes together.. You'd be surprised how easy it is to accomplish when a girl is that horny.." 

You shake your head with a laugh, to glancing between the two of them. "Well.. I trust you guys, so I'm down.. Let's have some fun."

Soon enough you're at their apartment complex, and Jake helps you out of the car before leading you towards their apartment front door where Heeseung is fumbling with the keys. 

Once the door is open, Jake lets you walk in first. You follow Heeseung into the kitchen, and he grabs three glasses, setting them on the counter. "If I'm gonna do this with you guys, I feel like we should be way more drunk.. That way we can blame it on the alcohol in the morning." 

You snicker at his words, taking the glass he handed you once he filled it partially with whiskey. 

You weren't a fan of brown liquor, but it was definitely an easy road to getting drunk faster. The three of you all stood around the kitchen island, exchanging small glances and short conversations.

With every sip from your glass, you relaxed a little more, letting loose so you could simply focus on the current situation.

You hadn't noticed how close Heeseung was, being the first to initiate intimacy as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing his lips to your neck.

You gasp softly, eyes shutting as you took in the feeling of his lips on your neck. Jake watched silently, downing the rest of his drink before rounding the counter to cup your cheek. 

He turns your head towards him, kissing you as you hum into the kiss. Their touch on your skin is like fire, but in the best way possible. You're already getting more excited and all they're doing is kissing you.

Jake pulls away, smiling at you as you turn towards Heeseung who leans in to capture your lips with his. His kiss is less gentle, you can almost taste the need building up at the back of his throat when he slots his tongue into your mouth. 

Jake takes no action, instead watching the two of you kiss, his hands on your hips and his head on your shoulder. When you and Heeseung finally part, he presses his lips to your ear. "Let's head to the bedroom.. As much as I'd hate to admit, I'm all too eager to see you naked right now.." 

You chuckle, pulling away from Jake, turning to face him instead as you kiss him again. "Then what's the wait?... Let's go."

Before you can even respond, he's pulling you towards the bedroom, stumbling through the door with Heeseung following slowly behind. He's not in a rush, not as much as Jake, but part of him wants to watch the two of you interact before he even gets involved.

Jake is quick to pull you close, kissing you, with more passion this time as he slides his hands beneath your shirt, wanting more of a connection. It's not long before he's pulling away to attempt to pull the shirt over your head.

Heeseung decides to intervene, not wanting Jake to steal all the fun. He turns your head towards him, smiling. "Strip.." The word falls easily from his lips, so seductively that you can't even think of disobeying.

You hum, putting on a strip tease as you slowly unzip your skirt, sliding past your hips before letting it hit the floor. Then, you brought the shirt up and over your head, letting it litter the floor. The last thing you remove is your heels.

"If you wanna see the rest, you're gonna have to earn it.." Your words are alluring and Heeseung finds it cute. He likes this side of you. He's used to the normal side of you where you're more direct and not at all teasing. 

He leads you to the bed, Jake following as you climb onto the bed, basically sandwiched between them. Heeseung kisses you again, seemingly unable to get enough of your taste. 

Jake on the other hand has better plans ahead. He kisses down your neck, trailing down past your chest and to your stomach. 

You moan when he rubs you through the silk of your panties, giving Heeseung further access to kiss you deeper. All the while, Jake's kisses get lower and lower, soon reaching your waistband.

You pull away from Heeseung momentarily to glance down at him, watching him grip the fabric before tugging it downwards. The second they were off, he slid a finger into you, moving it slowly in and out of you. You tilt your head back, biting your lip to hold back a moan.

Heeseung moves, sliding a finger in with Jake's as you let out a short gasp. They move they're fingers perfectly together and you're sure this isn't the first time they've done this. Their fingers press perfectly against your sweet spot, drawing needy moans from your throat as you watch their movements.

Jake takes the lead, leaning down to swipe his tongue against your clit before sucking on it.

Heeseung scoffs, grabbing Jake by his hair. "You're so eager.. Stealing all the fun.." The younger man pulls away from you at Heeseung's words, removing his finger from your hole. "Then join me.. No one's stopping you.."

Heeseung smirks, leaning down as he flicks his tongue against your clit, holding your right leg open while Jake holds the other.

Jake continues to move his tongue against you, his tongue moving with Heeseung's as they both sucked on your pussy.

You moan louder, having never experienced such pleasure. Both of their tongue on you is insane, and it feels amazing. Heeseung and Jake seem to be enjoying it as well, alternating between giving each other room to eat at your cunt and then going back to doing it together. It feels amazing, and you're already so close.

"Fuck..." You tug on Heeseung's hair, and he caresses your thigh, pulling away. "Just cum when you need to, baby.." He's now watching Jake take you to the edge, running his hand through the younger man's hair as Jake eagerly eats you out, his tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit.

You can feel the pleasure blooming hotly in your lower abdomen, and it's not long before you're spilling into Jake's mouth, coming undone on his tongue as he laps up every liquid that flows out of you.

Once you've come down from your high, he sits up, pulling Heeseung into a kiss to allow the older man to taste you as well. The scene is so hot, watching them kiss each other as comfortably as they would you. The way they grasp at each other. It's all so alluring.

Your orgasm has slightly sobered you, and now you're feeling shy. Jake and Heeseung are both fully dressed still, but you're completely naked, save for the bra covering your chest.

"Why am I the only one naked..?" You question as Heeseung smiles, trailing his hand up your thigh. "Because I wouldn't have been able to contain myself if these clothes weren't acting as a barrier.. But now that you're all prepped.." He pulls his shirt off, letting it hit the floor. "I can finally have some fun with you.."

Jake pulls you to sit up, moving to sit behind you as Heeseung smiles. "Hands and knees, baby.."

He undoes his belt while you take position, staring up at Jake as he kisses you, cupping your jaw sweetly. "Be a good girl, hm?.." He mumbles as he undoes his own pants, freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants.

You immediately take it into your hand, giving it a few gentle licks before taking the tip into your mouth. You moan in surprise when you feel Heeseung's cockhead press against you, sliding in slowly as you lose focus for a second, only continuing when Jake tangled his hands into your hair, easing you further down his length.

It was hard to focus. Heeseung's thrusts were slow, but cavernous, hands gripping your hips as you moan, swirling your tongue around Jake's cock.

Jake leans his head back, lips parted to release low moans as you suck his dick. The way you pull off every minute or so to breathe, the way you moan around him, and the way you stroke what can't fit. It's all to attractive for him.

"Fuck.. You're doing so well..." He praises as you take him slightly deeper, his tip pressing against the walls of your throat as you gag around him.

Heeseung quickens his pace once he feels that your used to him, fucking you faster, but just as deep.

This causes you to lose focus slightly, inhaling sharply as a shallow pain settled into your hips. Heeseung was rough, hips meeting yours with every drive, his cock entering you fully each time. The feeling has you seeing stars, moaning around Jake as you go from sucking his dick to wrapping your lips around him sloppily. He pulls you off, tugging on your hair to tilt your head back as he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue.

You're drawn from Jake once more when Heeseung slaps your ass, wrapping his arm around you to apply pressure on your clit. You're a moaning mess, arms growing tired from holding yourself up. And Heeseung notices. He's been watching your arms shake for awhile now, wondering when you're gonna give up.

Before your arms can give out on you, Heeseung pulls you up by your arms, resting back on his heels as he continues to pound into you.

Jake takes the opportunity to shove your bra downwards, leaning forward to take your perky nipple into his mouth. He hums around you, eliciting a moan out of you as you lean back, letting Heeseung hold you flush against him.

You can feel your orgasm growing closer.. Heeseung's too. The way his hips move in an unsteady pace, and his fingers work your clit so easily. It's all too perfect.

"Heeseung.. Holy shit.." You whine, feeling a tightness in the pit of your stomach. He chuckles, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Gonna cum?. Hm?.. Gonna make a mess on my cock?.." His words make everything feel ten times better, and Jake's mouth on your chest, switching back and forth as he sucks purple love bites into your skin.. It's heavenly..

It's not long before you cum, creaming Heeseung's cock as you tighten around him, paving the way for his own orgasm as he spills blissfully into your aching heat. His movements slow, and Heeseung pulls out, switching spots with Jake as he gestures for you to move closer.

You obey willfully, letting Heeseung kiss you gently before sitting against his chest, your legs spread wide open for Jake's entry.

The younger male is now shirtless. His pants still hanging loosely at his hips, and his erected length standing proudly, glistening dimly with your spit and his precum.

He situates himself between your legs, pressing his tip against your clit as you whine, still feeling sensitive. He ignores the twitching of your hips, rubbing himself eagerly against you as he let's out his own moans.

He eventually gets himself worked up, feeling needy and shoving himself inside you with a quick thrust. You're seeing stars again, feeling an intense pleasure that you're not used to.

Jake's movements are shorter and not as deep as Heeseung's, but it still feels amazing. Without forcing himself to deep, he still manages to hit all the right spots.

You're moaning with every brush against your sweet spot, head tilted back against Heeseung's chest. The older male is watching happily, unclipping your bra and pulling it off of you so he has complete access to your chest, groping your breasts and playing with your nipples.

You hadn't expected much going into this, but you definitely don't regret it. Everything feels incredible, and Jake and Heeseung know they're making you feel good.

With both of them touching you, it feels absolutely amazing, and your body is still sensitive from the previous two orgasms. Jake's pace is relentless at this point, growing faster and deeper as he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

You start squirming immediately, legs making an effort to close, but Jake spreads them again, holding down one thigh using his other hand to rub your clit.

"Fuck... Jake.. Please." You whine, tears forming in your eyes as he fucks you harder. Heeseung wraps his palm loosely around your neck, tilting your head back as he whispers in your ear. "Feel good? Hm?.. Us fucking you senseless?" He voices teasingly, running his tongue over the shell of your ear. You whimper, the sound coming straight out of your throat as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

Jake chuckles, slowing his thrust as he reaches up to wipe your tears. "Is it that good? Or are you just weak?.." His words make you cry harder, squirming against them as Heeseung holds you down, sucking on your neck, creating more purplish marks.

Jake goes back to toying with your clit, and you're trembling, orgasm nearing at an impeccable pace.

"Cum.. Be a good girl and cum for us.." Heeseung whispers against your ear, sending chills down your spine as tighten around Jake, drawing a gritted moan from the back of his throat.

Jake thrusts a few more times before your coming undone for the third time tonight, whining and moaning as Jake continues to thrust into you, wet and lewd sounds echoing throughout the room.

"Please no more.." Your vision is cloudy from the tears, and it's almost hard to breathe. Heeseung turns your head, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Shh.. Just breathe.. You can take it.."

Though his words are encouraging and sweet, you can't help how overstimulated you feel, and Jake doesn't seem to care either. He's lost in his own pleasure, thrusting haphazardly as he chases his orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum, shit.." He grips your hips, rutting against you as he spills into you, painting your insides with his cum. Once he finally stills himself inside you, you let out a weak moan, whimpering when he pulls out.

"What a mess..." Jake smiles, running his fingers through the mess of cum coating your thighs and your pussy, sliding them into your mouth to make you taste it.

You whine around his fingers, sucking them clean as he pulls them out, leaning down to give you a soft kiss before staring down at you. "From now on, you belong to us.. Forget about that bastard." His tone drops seriously, and you nod in understanding.

Heeseung chuckles, kissing your head. "Good girl.."

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[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Fluffy 'accidental pregnancy' story with Steve?

He finds someone who is better for him and better to him than Nancy and moves on from Nancy with the new girl (who is already aware of the Upside Down, or maybe it's a 'no Upside Down' AU). I personally like the idea of this happening soon after the events of season 2 (maybe he meant it as a rebound but true love hit fast for both of them?) and having the girl visibly pregnant at their graduation so Nancy sees exactly what she lost out on with him, but this could really happen any time after Steve and Nancy break up.

Request by anon ❤️

Teen pregnancy, reader and Steve are over 18.

❤️

Graduation was an event Steve had been looking forward to for months, well at least he was looking forward to getting it over with.

Steve feels a swell of happiness as he looks at you, he can't believe that he's going to be a daddy.

It's fast he knows that but he didn't expect to fall so completely in love with you, when you announced that you were pregnant he was beyond thrilled.

Terrified but thrilled all the same. You weren't very far along so Steve still had some time to excitedly wait for the little nugget to be born.

When the two of you first got together, it was just a causal thing, something to get over his heartbreak. A rebound after Nancy.

The thing is he didn't expect to fall for you so hard, he should have seen it coming really but he fell hard and fast, something so deep that it scared him at first, even deeper than what he felt for Nancy.

Speaking of Nancy she had been eyeing you and Steve with a stunned expression that had immediately turned sad and almost wistful all through graduation. He really didn't care what she had to say.

If she had a problem or was regretting that things had ended then that was her problem. He loved you and he was completely over her.

Once diplomas were given and the valedictorian (Nancy) had given her speech, Steve was happy to get you home. You were tired and he was more than happy to skip all of the bullshit and just go home with you and enjoy the rest of the day.

Everyone knew about you and the baby and Steve had glared at a few onlookers who were openly being assholes about it (mainly Tommy and Carol) who soon shut their mouths.

Protectively he places a hand on your little bump and dares anyone to say any shit.

He swears it looks like Nancy wants to speak to him, she's certainly been staring at you and him a lot but he's more focused on getting you home and relaxing than worrying about what she wanted.

If he knew that right at that moment Nancy was realising exactly what she lost and was feeling regretful would it change things?

No it wouldn't. You and the baby were his future, Nancy was in the past and that was that.

❤️

A few months had passed since graduation and all was well. Steve had found a job at Scoops Ahoy but that had abruptly ended when the mall was destroyed so he was now working at Family Video.

Through his jobs Steve had met Robin and had found the best friend he had always wanted. The fact that you and her got along so great as well and the three of you were like the three musketeers was just a bonus.

Dustin had been hanging around a lot as well, usually with a smart ass comment to Steve but he still adored the little butthead, he was like a little brother to Steve and he would even put up with Dustin wanting to teach his kid D&D when they were old enough.

You had taken up work at the library until you were close to your due date and for after your maternity leave was done.

"Steve if I'm stuck in the house all day then I'll go stir crazy, I need something to focus on and Mrs Holland has a childcare branch that would help when we're both working for the baby" you had replied to his worries about it.

So that was that. Steve still felt extremely protective but he knows that you need to keep busy. It still didn't stop him worrying but he was trying to hover over you less.

His dad wasn't thrilled about the baby when he had told him but he was rarely around anyway, Steve doubted he'd even see the man much even when he was working in the same company as him. All Steve knew is that his kid would never go without having Steve's love and support.

Neither would you. He would be nothing like his old man, that was for sure. Too many times growing up Steve saw the way his dad treated his mom, the cheating and all the lies. He vowed to never be like him.

Promised himself and you that he would always love and cherish you, wouldn't be a cheating bastard like his dad was with his mom.

Surprisingly unlike his dad, his mother and your parents were thrilled and were very supportive about the baby. It shocked Steve at first that his mom was so steadfast in her support but he was grateful for it all the same.

She had even made one of the rooms in the house into a nursery, it was a project to take her mind off the fact that she had thrown Steve's dad out after one too many mistakes he had made.

You were on a break from the library and had visited Family Video to plan a movie night. Robin was tagging along and no doubt Dustin would as well.

Steve was just happy to see you and talk to your steadily growing bump, the baby seemed to love his voice. The first time the baby had kicked was when Steve was singing so he made up goofy songs to feel the baby kick, marvelled at the action each time.

You're giggling as he talks happily to the bump, Robin rolling her eyes affectionately but smiling all the while.

It's then he feels eyes on him and when he looks up, Nancy is across the street. He hasn't seen her in a while yet she's watching him, she still has that same expression she wore at graduation.

She's watching him interact with you and the bump and he sees a flicker of regret on her features. Nope, no way. He wasn't even entertaining whatever she was thinking.

Turning away from Nancy he presses a kiss to your head and then heads back to work. Nancy was in the past and she was staying that way.

Steve was only looking towards the future now with you and the little nugget by his side.

❤️