#laugh through the pain y’all lmao

[disabledpirate]

It’s fine everyone! The crew is having an orgy in doggy heaven as we speak!

[ynbabe]

for a request: american motogp rider or bullrider!reader whos from the south x logan sargeant. i’m picturing a male reader but it can be fem 🫶

I've chosen Bullrider! Reader but I don't know jack shit about it lmao 😭

Southern hospitality ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x Male!Reader

Miami GP was good luck for Logan. It was almost like the car and track knew it was his home, he felt faster, stronger, and better on that track but it might also have been the looming threat of losing his job. The constant questioning of his talent and hard work.

He was also totally ignoring the mess that was his personal life, not that he had much outside of F1.

"Knock Knock," Someone tapped his head and declared with a smile in his voice.

"Wh- Alex?" He looked up at his teammate who sheepishly but not apologetically smiled back, skin pink from the sun.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked stealing Logan's 'panic spot' behind the motor home where he was leaning on some old tyres, though any spot could be a panic spot if Logan walked in.

This time he was nudged out of his head, "You're doing it again," he stated, a soft look too close to pity for comfort in his eyes.

"Nah man nothing much, home race and all you know?" He lied and Alex looked least convinced but they were both interrupted by the door opening.

"Hey guys, we've got some PR stuff to do," someone from the team announced. Of course, he was definitely gonna have to skip lunch today as well.

He kept replying to Alex's chatting, still convinced the older man suspected he was lying. He was okay, why wouldn't he be?

"O-oh my god," Alex interrupted himself and pushed an arm in front of Logan, making the blonde boy stop in his tracks confused. "Is that a real-life cowboy?" He all but screamed making Logan look around till he spotted a tanned man with y/h/c hair wearing a leather cowboy hat.

As they reached closer they could hear the thick southern accent the man had, around him were a few of the mechanics, some taking photos and others staring intently at his face or rather his chiselled chest that could be seen through the half-open white shirt the man wore.

"What the fuck?" For the first time in a long time, Logan's mind was clear.

"Logan, stop drooling, I get it but we're in public," Alex chastised, laughing while he pushed the both of them ahead.

Now Logan prided himself on being a mature guy, even as a kid everyone told him so, so why was he pulling and jumping over Alex like a teenage boy trying to show off in front of this really really attractive stranger?

The stopped just as they reached you, Alex's Pr manager was standing there already, looking annoyed at the two for being late.

"Y/n," He called the man who excused himself and walked over to where they were standing, "Logan, Alex, this is Y/n L/n our celebrity guest for Miami,"

The man in front of him laughed, his y/e/c eyes crinkling as he did.

“Now I wouldn’t say celebrity, but thank you sir,” he commented and the older man nodded, a stricter nod was given to Logan and Alex but both chose to ignore that.

They walked towards a shaded area, Y/n leading them, “Now I would say y’all are the real celebrities, drivin’ those cars at a million miles,” his voice (the accent) raised the hair at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Hahaha, thank you so much, so what do you do?” Alex asked, which made Logan glare at man, that was such a rude question! He could be a nepo-baby, it’s America Alex!

“Oh, I’m a bull rider,” he answered and suddenly Logan was chocking on air, it’s not his fault his brain was disgusting! “You okay, Sargeant,” the man, the literal bull rider had placed a hand on his shoulder and was asking him- wait what the fuck? Logan was a grown man, why is he acting like a teenage girl with a crush?

He straightened up, trying to clear his throat, “bull rider, huh,” he pointed to the hat, making the man smile, a slight blush spreading across his features.

“All a part of the brand, stole it from a teammate and it stuck,” he made a pained expression, half joking.

“Do you know J.B. Mauney?” Alex asked, reminding Logan that he was still there.

"Oh Lord," Y/n laughed, "He's my teammate," now it was Alex's turn to swoon.

"Really? Oh my God, he's so cool! My for you page is filled with his edits!" Alex told the man in front of him and the second-hand embarrassment Logan felt could have killed him only Alex didn't seem embarrassed at all, in fact, he was doubling down on the simp parade.

"Between you an' I, I had a pretty darn big crush on that man too," he confessed, winking at Logan. "I think you boys need to get goin' now but how bout we catch lunch? I heard they don't feed you good round here," Logan turned around and saw someone call for them and missed the way Alex looked between the two men standing significantly closer together than needed.

"Unfortunately, I've got a little lunch date with Lily," Alex feigned sadness but smiled wide.

Y/n turned to the blonde, raising a brow to which Logan couldn't help but nod yes.

As they walked away, Logan still reeling from the butterflies he got in his stomach every time the other man spoke, Alex bumped into him, giggling, "You are so welcome, mate," he laughed and walked into the building.

y/n/l/nofficial

y/n/l/nofficial told him not to eat the wasabi 🤷‍♂️

username Is this a soft launch?

username Oh?

username IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEE

username Istg I've seen that blonde before

username ong that hoodie too

You knew you had forgotten to tag Logan but you never expected people to expect he was your boyfriend! That post wasn't even that suggestive, was it? Oh god, it was going to be so embarrassing!

"Hey, Y/n you good?" Your teammate asked you causing you to throw your phone at the man, who laughed at the comments.

"This is why we keep PR managers, cowboy," he threw it back to you, "Hey at least you got another bull outta it-" he teased making you throw your pillow at him which he laughed at rushing out the room.

Your hand trembled over Logan's chat. Should you invite him out again? The lunch invitation already had you sweating under your collar like a thief in church. Why was talking to that Floridian getting you so nervous? You balanced on live bulls for a damn living!

Okay, oh god why wasn't he responding. You really fucked this up, next time you went out you were going to let that bull throw you nine ways to Sunday and then some more.

Could you blame this on autocorrect? Yeah, of course, everyone knew what a nuisance that damn thing was.

In the middle of your spiral, you got a few notifications, hoping it was Logan you quickly checked your phone, almost dropping it in the process.

logansargeant

logansargeant Southern Hospitality 🫡

username sir? Bro? Pookie bear? Come back home the kids miss you 😭

username Forgive me I wasn't aware of your game

username Guys can't they just be friends???

alexalbon You're welcome 🥰

username GIRL- WHAT DO YOU KNOW????

username IS THAT @/y/n/l/noffical

username I'D KNOW THAT DAMN SMILE ANYWHERE Stgsiagdfki

Request 1/5- DONE!! Updates will be weekly as I wanna make sure I get the best quality of each fic but TRUST your ask will be answered cause most are abt Logan and we stan that American boy in this damn blog here 😤

As always pls do let me know how y'all like the fic!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

[weskin-time]

listen, i'm throwing this request in here because we frankly don't get enough of this in the x reader tag, character x injured/sick!reader. it doesn't even have to be anything super angsty if you don't want it to be. like i just want the fluff of an overwatch character fretting over reader with a sprained ankle lmao

(any characters are okay tbh, write for whoever you have ideas for!)

Hello anon!! i hope this works for you! i had a lot of fun writing this and i might make more later on. >:3

please give me more OW requests. mm brain rot <3

TBH i don’t really like genjis one i might rewrite it later on so keep an eye out for a post

D.Va, Genji, Ramattra X GN!Hurt/Sick!Reader

Not beta read

cw- injury, pain,

Hana “D.Va” Song

gaming with your girlfriend was almost mandatory as you started your relationship

you were fine with that, in fact you were happy to join in her streams and hang out with D.Va and finish to get some quiet time with Hana.

But. you two played different types of games.

You loved character driven story games, open worlds and side quests

and she was a world champion, mmorpgs, real time strategy games, fast paced games you never really tried

But she asked one day if you wanted to play LOL with her on stream you said yes of course

but wow was it a learning curve, and a new thing you had to adapt to. fast paced clicking and key mashing hurt your fingers and wrists.

you have no idea how Hana doesn’t have wrist problems worse then she does if you just played for a few days and your pointer finger felt stuck and pain would throb in your forearms.

Hana ended stream that night and took a breath to regain her self. You were chilling in the same room as her, her set up more impressive than yours as you turned off your own PC and turned your chair to face her.

Getting up from your semi uncomfortable office chair you walked over to her as she stretched, you went to grab her water bottle to refill it for her but as soon as your hand grabbed the bottle pain shot through your forearm and wrist making you involuntarily wince.

Her eyes shot to you in worry before she completely understood what happened, “Aww I hope i didn’t push you too hard that last round.”

You chuckled and shook out your arms, it really didn’t do much. “It’s hard to keep up with you in these games Ms Professional ESports World Champion.”

It was her turn to laugh, “Get good.” She got up and grabbed the bottle herself and shut down her PC. “You good though? Got Gamers wrist?”

“Up my forearms and everything, clicking finger is sore too.” You flex your fingers trying to get the stiff feeling out.

“Didn’t you used to play a religious amount of Cookie Clicker back in the day, without auto clicker?” She points out as you follow her out of y’all’s gaming room and to the kitchen.

You have a scoff, “My child self didn’t know what that was, i was rich on cookies. And it didn’t hurt all this bad.” You rested against the island.

She paused by the fridge, filling her bottle up with the water. “I have some extra wrist braces if you’d like, they work wonders.”

“Please.” Your response came instantly before you could even process the last part of her sentence. It made her snort with how desperate you sounded and she almost overflowed her bottle.

“Come here, give me your arms.” She turned around and leaned against the other side of the island in front of you.

You did and held out your forearms to her with a confused look.

She wrapped her hands around for forearms and began to squeeze them, massaging them firmly, perfectly in the place where it hurt the most. A whine left your throat at the feeling of sore pain meeting soft comforting pain. Her fingers dug into the meat gently as she circled the muscle, slowly making her way down to your wrists where she provided the same treatment. Your head rested on the island counter as you slumped over, heaven was in her hands.

“Thank you Hana.”

“You’re welcome bunny.”

——————————————————————

Genji Shimada

sleep deprivation sucked.

2-3 hours a night was all you were going off of. it wasn’t enough to keep your brain healthy or your body.

constant headaches, unfocused eyes, micro sleep, confusion, it all was ass

but there was nothing you could do in the moment to fix it, you just kept staying awake at night to either game or finish work projects and paperwork.

sickness sometimes finds you when you’re like this, nauseous from lack of sleep, headaches making your eyes hurt.

you tried your best to fight back the sleep that demanded itself, but failed.

Genji was silent in his approach to your desk, you knew he was there, you could sense him.

Your laptop was too bright, your eyes were unfocused and you could barely feel yourself slowly lean forward to the desks surface. A hand on your shoulder wakes you up enough to realize you were holding down a single key on your keyboard and the open document on your screen now had a long line of Vs.

“Hiya Genji.” you slur almost, as you closed your eyes only for the entire world to pulse around you, sounds were too sharp and too dull at the same time, breathing in and out seemed to take all your strength, but your strength was elsewhere trying to fight off sleep.

“You don’t look too good.” He stated flatly, his helmet off as he rested in comfortable clothing.

You glance up to see him, eyes focusing on his face, “Thanks.” was all you had the energy to respond with.

He looked at your laptop, reading what you were writing but telling by his confused and concerned face you think you just wrote gibberish that your brain thought sounded like a normal sentence.

“How long have you been awake?” His voice dripping with concern but his voice buzzed in your ears and bounced around your head for a second before you could process what he said.

“I’ve had 5 hours of sleep this week.” You yawn and look away from his wide eyed expression.

It was Saturday. 11pm.

Your body didn’t have enough energy to even move it felt like.

“Okay,” he dragged out the word and closed your laptop. “Let’s get you to bed yea?” The way he said it made you know there was no changing his mind.

You didn’t want to admit you needed sleep but at the same time your head was throbbing and the thought of cuddling with your Genji was enough to perk you up more.

You mumbled out an okay before trying to stand on wobbly knees, your body feeling light yet heavy at the same time. A flesh hand came to steady you and hold you before you heard a sigh and suddenly you were swept off your feet and being carried to the bedroom.

“You need to take better care of yourself.” Concern laced his words as he placed you on the bed carefully.

“I know I know,” you made a grabby hand motion at him and he smiles, soon making his way to the bed as well, cuddling up beside you. You used his still flesh side as a pillow as he laid on his back. “I’m sorry Genji.”

He ran fingers along your scalp, scratching softly, putting you in a trance. “I know you don’t do field work anymore but you still need to rest.”

“I will, I will.” Was all you could mumble out before almost instantly falling asleep. the last thing you felt was his lips against your forehead.

The next morning Genji barley let you leave the bedroom after you slept for nearly 14 hours. He made you food and sat and ate with you in the bed while the two of you watched Cowboy Bebop. Your work could wait till monday, you just wanted to enjoy the last day of the weekend resting with him.

—————————————————————

Ramattra

you were out for a walk with Ramattra

the spring air buzzed with life as you two passed by trees, bird song filling silence, bees resting on flowers as they bumbled their fat little bodies around

it was a nice walk, one to clear your mind and his systems, just to think and be together

you didn’t see a tree root and you fell and ate dirt, twisting your ankle

“oh ow ow ow ow ow.” you let out a string of curses from behind clenched teeth.

Your ankle throbbed, it felt warm and tingly at the same time, pain shooting through your foot and up your shin. You do what your dumb brain tells you to and you roll it to make sure it’s not broken, thankfully it isn’t but the pain takes the air from your lungs with a sharp gasp.

Ramattra stared down at you on the ground, unmoving as he studied you. He watched as you tried to get back up with only the use of one leg, holding onto a tree for support as you stood with your leg raised like a dog that’s paw got stepped on.

“Fragile things you humans are. You tripped and now you can’t stand?” His voice wasn’t as harsh as it once was many moons ago, but he still said it with some form of exasperation.

You set your foot on the ground, testing it and instantly regretting it as pain erupts again.

You ignore his comment, “Oh gods I don’t know if i can walk back.”

“Weakling.” He said but held out his arm for you to take. There was no malice in his vocal synthesizers.

You did, leaning against him. Thanking him as you both turned around and took a step to head back to base. As you tried to put weight on your ankle you winced and let out a hiss.

“I really fucked myself up good.” You laugh a little as you stare down at your feet.

“Do you need me to carry you?” His voice buzzed with slight concern, you wouldn’t have noticed it unless you had spent enough time with the Omnic, and you have.

You look up at him with a smirk, a look that pokes him, “You goin soft on me Ram?”

He tenses a tiny tiny bit more than he already was, “No!” He said a bit too quickly. “It would take us ages to get back with your condition and I am not going to wait on you. It would be faster for me to carry you there. Simple.”

You ponder for a second, before nodding your head. Why would you ever give up the opportunity to be carried by this giant?

Ramattra let’s out a fake sigh and grabs you by the midsection, lifting you up and placing your butt on his right shoulder. You were expecting to be carried in his arms but sitting on his shoulder was way more fun already. You felt like a bird resting on his broad shoulders.

“Thanks, you big softie.” You pat his head to make your point.

He moves his right arm to hold your hips, keeping you stable and you use his arm as a grip. “I’m not doing this for you.” He grumbled but the way he made sure you weren’t going to fall off said otherwise.

He waited for you to give the word and he started to make his way back, you on his shoulder and enjoying being really tall.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— ANY WAY THAT YOU WANT ME

SUMMARY : he’s clingy and doesn’t know how else to feel close to her. even though it gets them both riled up, it’s nice while it lasts.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), cockwarming, fluff

WORD COUNT : 1.2k

A/N : omg, y’all, HEY. I’m sorry. LMAO, see y’all next week??? XXXXXX

“So you’re just not gonna move?” He asked, lifting his hips off the couch and lowering his pants. She nodded, about to explain some more to him. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked immediately after, taking in the view of her in a pretty pastel-blue bralette and matching underwear, which she was starting to push down her legs. 

“No,” she laughed, “why would you think that?” She straddled him, entertained by the way he tugged on his cock while he stared at the side, deep in thought and his only response was a shrug. She took his chin in her hand, made him look at her so she could kiss him softly. “This is supposed to be enjoyable and lazy.” 

He hummed softly, sounding a little doubtful, as if he already knew himself. His eyes remained glued on her face when she took him in her hand, not teasing herself the way she usually did, just pressed the soft head against her entrance, gently pushing into her, stretching her easily with the warm slickness that was there. 

She moved up and down slowly and he moaned, but he knew she was just making the way down easier for herself, less painful, more comfortable. He let her, grasped her thighs and looked away from her curious face to observe how wet she had his cock. He cursed softly, found himself so desperate he thrusted upwards sharply to push himself all the way in, her little gasp pulled him out of his daze.

“Shit, honey,” he said worriedly, “did I hurt you?” 

“No, just surprised me,” she smiled at him reassuringly, kissed his forehead and her lips lingered before she pulled away. He relaxed and nodded, his thumbs brushing gently over her hip bones, daring to look back down where she was now full with him. She must have been looking at him the whole time, because she grabbed the hem of his shirt, and lifted it up his tummy to get a better look at herself too. He felt himself throb inside her, knowing that she wanted to look, that she was enjoying this nearly as much as he was starting to, it made the muscles in his abdomen tighten delightfully. 

“Take it off,” he murmured, “I’m kinda hot,” he added. 

“Yeah, you are,” she flirted, but started to lift his shirt up, helped him take it off and threw it on the other side of the couch. He rolled his eyes at her at first, but then nodded, taking the compliment proudly. He slid his hands up her sides, wiggled his fingers underneath her bralette to cup her breasts, squeezing gently. 

Her nipples tightened under his gaze. He felt her walls squeeze around him when his thumbs brushed over her nipples, nearly stopping himself from going any further because he didn’t think he could just sit there and not have sex with her while he was inside her. It was worse when she squirmed, her back arching slightly, her hips undulating just barely, but enough to nearly drive him crazy. 

“How long do you expect me to last?” He asked breathily, shifting under her. She looked down at him, amusement sparked so obviously in her eyes, her lip twitching up into a smirk.  “Don’t get me wrong,” he murmured, pinching her nipples roughly, “love feeling you this close, but I can’t do it.” 

“Then stop doing that,” she said with a chuckle. She grabbed his wrists and moved them out from her silky bralette. He pouted at her, his eyes falling back to the thin material that covered her breasts, her nipples poking through. “Hey, let’s do something,” she suggested, forcing him to tear his eyes away from her chest. 

“Watch a movie?” He asked, more than a little disappointed when she moved off his lap. He stared at how slick he was. Looking up at her, he saw how triumphant she was by the beads of precum that quickly rolled down his dick. He blushed, nearly pulled his pants up to cover himself, but she stopped him. 

“Take all your clothes off,” she ordered.

“You too?” He asked, immediately doing as she told him to do. She looked down at herself and shrugged with a nod, and lifted the bralette up and off her body. He quickly stood up once he was naked, grabbed her waist and latched his lips onto her nipples. Her hands went to his hair, a title gasp slipping past her lips, knowing he was trying to tempt her, when he turned her and gently pushed her into the couch. 

“Boaz,” she warned, but he ignored her. His fingers went up her thighs, between her legs to massage her clit expertly. His teeth gently scraped her nipples, giving little licks to cover them in his saliva and moved his mouth down her stomach, left open-mouth kisses down body and replaced his fingers with his mouth to play with her clit. She grabbed his face and pulled him off her, “okay, now it is a punishment,” she told him breathlessly. 

He whined, moved up her body to kiss her lips passionately, silently asking for forgiveness and to stop her from going through with her newest idea, which to him was more tortuous than pleasurable. She kissed his back, held his face gently in her hands, tilting her head to let his tongue in. The softness and the warmth of it against her own made her moan, tasting something fruity and sweet in his mouth.

She would love nothing more than to have sex with him, but she wanted to push his buttons. She wanted to see how far he would let himself go, before he simply couldn’t just sit there. She didn’t think he’d get so desperate as quickly as he did, but even now, he rolled his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and nearly pushing himself back into her, but a sharp smack of her small hand on his ass made him pull away in shock. 

She laughed softly, leaned up to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around his neck because she really wanted to give in now. But she didn’t, she slipped out from under him and he sat down, staring after her naked body bending over to get the TV ready for whatever she wanted to watch. It was just Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which made him relax, but the little smirk on her lips when she turned to face him made him excited and anxious all at once.

“You’re not serious,” he said incredulously, but she appeared far too amused to be joking. She took his bearded chin, smiled down at him, her thumb gently swiping across his lower lip so they automatically parted, ready for a kiss. She gave him one, a small, teasing kiss to his parted lips, innocent on the surface but so full of mischief. 

“Let’s see how long you last,” she murmured, sitting back in his lap. He tensed up, grabbed her hips and didn’t stop her from sliding back down his dick. His head fell back against the couch, trying to suppress a groan of pleasure and failing, his hands moved to her ribcage. 

“I can tell you now,” he muttered, “a few more minutes.” She laughed, rested her head on his shoulder and kissed his jawline. He smiled at her despite how tense and turned on he was, trying hard to ease his body and give her a few moments of peace before he tried again to go for what he wanted.

taglist

@rominaszh @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[diremoone]

cherry on top.

fushiguro toji x reader

in which your boyfriend of the last three years treats you to a birthday that he thinks you more than deserve :D

w — no curses AU, implied! Rich! Toji, a grain of angst, hair length isn’t specified but it’s enough to make a small bun, mentions of chubby! MC, and the hope that the fluff rots your teeth 🤭 not the best thing ever written by my hands but I love it anyway

a/n: happy birthday to me! this would’ve been out sooner today but I got a lil bit sick 😷 i’m unfortunately another year older but maybe another year closer to finding the man that’ll treat me like toji does mc in this fic haha. enjoy y’all’s reverse-birthday present lmao. this is a lil bit of self-indulgence btw so if it flops that’s why (but hopefully you guys like it too). I also tried to do accurate research on irl locations of the places that are mentioned, so I’m sorry if something isn’t correct 🙈

You don’t like the shake on your shoulder that wakes you up, nor the soft whisper of your name dropping from your boyfriend’s lip. You like it even less when you open your (very notably) tired eyes and look at the clock and see what time it is.

“What the fuck, Toji?”

He grins at your mumbled swears. “Happy birthday, cupcake.”

You know for a fact you have junk in your eyes, your hair’s a mess, your breath is borderline rancid and needs brushing, and that you overall look (and feel) like you just crawled out of a sewer completely deprived of sleep. So how this wonderful man squats beside the bed and combs his large fingers through your hair and gets his face so close to yours to attempt to kiss you is beyond your comprehension.

You cover your lips with the blanket, making him chuckle.

“Let’s celebrate, yeah?” Toji says, then stands to his full height. That’s when you notice that he’s dressed in regular clothes. “Gotta show my woman how much she means to me, don’t I?”

You quickly pull the blanket over your head to try and diminish his efforts. “If you wanna show me how much you love me, then let me sleep all day.”

Toji laughs as you snuggle into the pillow under your head. But the more you dig your cheek into the pillow, the farther away your ability to fall back asleep seems to be. You dig your nose into the soft material and let out a heavy sigh, hoping he doesn’t hear.

He’s won. “Come on. I’ll help you get out of bed and get ready, if that’s what it takes.” And when he chuckles after, you know he knows he’s won.

Toji lifts you by your outstretched hand to get you sitting on the edge of the bed, then proceeds to do the little things to get you ready that make your desperately-tired-but-desperately-in-love heart turn to mush.

Toji turns the sink on to get it warm so you can clean your teeth and face. Once you’re done, you realize he’s already got clothes already waiting for you to change into (one of his shirts that’s super baggy on you and a pair of red-pink floral leggings) on the bed. And once you change, he’s got your hairbrush in his big hands. He slowly combs his thick fingers through your hair, gently untangling the knots and brushing them out with minimal effort and pain.

You admit you nearly fall asleep again to his touch without shame.

“Don’t fall back into sleep,” Toji’s deep voice rumbles, which only soothes you further. “The day hasn’t even started yet.”

“You’re right,” you reply, yawning loudly. “It’s not even dawn yet.”

“Daybreak will be here when we get to the car,” he comments.

“Nice way of saying I’m slow,” you mumble.

Toji chuckles as he ties your hair into a bun, the stray baby locks being too short and left to dangle by your cheeks. He takes your smaller hand into his, and you still can’t help but feel flustered knowing how much bigger and warmer his hand is in comparison to yours is (read: you can’t help but feel flustered knowing you have someone holding your hand so sweetly with a hand as big as Toji’s).

There’s a small breeze when you step outside. And sure enough, Toji’s assumption is correct: the sun is starting to break over the horizon by the time you walk out to the car.

“Told you so,” Toji jokes.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but grin, too. “Shut up.”

He opens the car door for you like a gentleman, to which you feel your cheeks warm up in embarrassment.

When he starts the car and grips the wheel, it’s then he asks, “Where do you want to go for breakfast?”

You immediately know where you want to go. And you feel you know Toji knows, too. It’s been a place you’ve only been to twice because of how expensive it was, but it has the best waffles you’ve ever tasted. The thing about it though was, if you went, there wasn’t going to be a way for you to control your appetite.

You look to Toji, lips in a straight line as you internally debate with yourself.

“You have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t laugh at how much I order.”

Toji chuckles at that, to which you send him a playful glare. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, the scarred corner of his lip quirking up.

“I promise.”

“Or how I eat.”

“I’ve seen how you eat, don’t worry.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Toji takes you to the fancy breakfast-only restaurant you murmur in embarrassment under your breath. And you were right: he already knows. Because the place was where you originally met—Toji’s umpteenth time with Megumi, while it was your second and last time.

Until today.

“You want me to take you here more often?” Toji asks.

You have a mouthful of syrupy waffles shoved into your mouth when he asks. You can’t help but feel embarrassed over the sudden focus on you while your cheeks are stuffed and puffed up like a chipmunk. But you nod anyway, slowly chewing the waffles and swallowing them.

“Don’t slow down on my accord,” Toji adds.

“You’re gonna make me fat,” you accuse jokingly.

Toji shrugs. And when that damned smirk appears on his face, you know he’s fixing to say something you aren’t gonna like.

“So what? You look good with rolls. More for me to love and grab during-”

“SHUSH!” you whisper-scream, eyes bulging out in hopes no one around you heard what he was implying.

The buff man only chuckles and smiles wider, happy with making you as flustered as he has.

You both end up stuffing a gut (on Toji’s even more overstuffed wallet) on the breakfast food before you two move on. Whatever he has planned next has you two driving for a good while after breakfast, which eventually leads you to ask, “Where to now?”

“To Narita.”

��Why?”

“To do one of the things you do the least,” he replies with a smirk.

You go blank. You admit to yourself you have no idea what he’s talking about. You try and think on it, and when he pulls into the Aeon Mall, a small lightbulb appears over your head. You look at him incredulously, while Toji looks extremely proud of himself.

“You’re taking me shopping?”

“Surprise.”

You belt out a small laugh. Of course. Of course this man would take you shopping. Of course he would do something that you felt so uncomfortable doing.

Shopping for yourself hadn’t been something you did for yourself often. Or really at all; only when you really needed to.

After being financially strapped for most of your life, from childhood until recently, you hadn’t spent much on yourself. You didn’t treat yourself to the finer things in life, even when you could’ve. And it left you empty, without a desire to be kind or do things for yourself. It left your birthday without luster, hollow, and without purpose, which led to you being so… uncaring about the day.

The day Toji, unknowingly to you, loved the most. Because it brought you into this world, into his and Megumi’s life. He’d be damned if he was going to let you act like it was just another day of the year.

Fuck that. His bank account was more than big enough to treat his woman to a proper birthday that she more than deserved.

Those thoughts were only reaffirmed by the bug-eyed, awestruck look on your face, your pretty eyes lighting up with a childlike wonder he’d only seen less than the amount of fingers on his right hand. He loved seeing it.

Oh yeah, he was going to spoil the fuck out of you.

You turn to him, mouth ajar with a twinkle in your eyes. But something crossed over your face for a split second—an emotion he knew too well: guilt.

“Toji…”

Fuck. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one little bit. Not the look that crossed your face, even for a second, not the sound of your voice as you called out to him. He wasn’t going to let your goody-two-shoes, guilty-feeling heart spoil his goal of reigniting your appreciation for your own birthday. Nope.

Toji wraps an arm around your waist and presses a sweet peck against the top of your head. “Don’t even try and do that shit—feeling guilty and all that. You ain’t taking advantage, woman. Now go shop. I ain’t got these big arms for nothing.”

“You aren’t my sugar daddy, you know,” you reply, brows raised with lips quirked up in amusement.

“No, I’m not. I’m a rich man that loves his woman and wants her to have the best birthday she’s had in years and take a massive chunk outta my bank account,” he boldly retorts. He grins that familiar, shit-eating grin, dips his head and neck and presses his lips against your cheek, and drags you forward, deeper into the mall. You can only help but throw your head back and laugh.

You spend several good, long-ass hours in the mall; a few hours pass what is considered lunchtime before you two do enough shopping that you both have to go back outside to the car to pack it with what has been bought before you can even think about getting anything to eat.

“What do you want for lunch?” Toji asks, stretching his burly arms before leaning against the car.

Your reply is instant, “KFC.”

Toji snorts, chuckling. He interlaces his thick fingers between yours and leads you both back inside.

Another few hours are spent buying clothes, a fluffy blanket you eyeballed and Toji was going to buy no matter how much you told him to put it back, and a few plushies of some of your favorite Pokémon. On the way home, Toji surprises you again by going to Mister Donut and practically taking half of what the store had. You died laughing in the car afterward because some of the other customers got offended as they watched him take so much.

“Toji, you shouldn’t have taken so much,” you giggle behind your hand as lean back against the door. “You seemed like an asshole.”

He smirks, holding the wheel with one hand and using the other to pinch your cheek.

“Don’t give a shit,” he laughs. You playfully swat at his hand. “You said you wanted donuts earlier, so you’ll get some donuts.”

“I didn’t mean the entire store.”

“Shoulda been more specific then.” Toji winks and the smirk on his face grows even wider.

The sky is painted beautiful oranges, pinks, and blues by the time you arrive home. The sun is setting beneath the horizon, under the green land and leaving behind the lights of the city and glitter of the stars dancing in the darkening sky to light the world. For some reason, it’s more… breathtaking than you remembered. You’d often spend time outside as the sun set, thinking nothing of it.

Maybe it was because of today.

Your eyes flicker to your boyfriend and the massive muscles of his arms bulging against the black shirt as he takes everything you’ve bought inside, and you can’t help the flutter in your stomach and the quickening pace of your heart.

Maybe it was because of Toji, and him making your birthday the most special it’s felt in years.

The smile that makes your lips go from ear to ear doesn’t go unnoticed by the black-haired man when he comes back outside. Nor does the sniffle and the backs of your hands wiping away at tears sliding down your cheeks. It makes Toji’s lips pull into a slight frown. This isn’t what he was expecting. Nor what he wanted to see.

He slides an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his muscled chest.

“You ain’t supposed to be crying, baby,” he mumbles, big hands rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. “Come on. I’m going to start dinner. Shouldn’t be cryin’, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you mumur back, burrowing yourself deeper into his comfort, “but I’m not sad. Thank you Toji. Today has been the best birthday ever.” You stand on your tiptoes and press a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

He stills, eyes widened slightly in surprise. You don’t make anything of it until the moment comes where you try and break free of his hold moments later and he doesn’t budge. Your brows furrow, and just as you’re about to ask him if he was okay, he cusses under his breath.

“Fuck it. Megumi can be the ring bearer.”

What he says doesn’t click until he gets down on one knee and pops open a small emerald green box, with a heart-shaped diamond ring nestled inside of it. Your mouth drops open and you feel eyes burn with more tears.

“[Name]—”

“What the actual fuck?”

You both laugh. Toji’s head drops as he sniggers at your foul language upon him getting on one knee; you laugh at yourself, at the reaction that came out of your lips faster than your brain could process.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper out, holding back a flood of tears.

“Nah, I’m the one that don’t deserve you. You’re fucking perfect. Who wouldn’t want you?”

You don’t deserve him, but he wants you anyway. Holy shit. This was really happening, wasn’t it? Were you about to say ‘yes’ and have a fiancé? Eventually become a married woman and help your to-be husband raise the sweetest, most adorable boy you’ve ever met? (It’s not like you aren’t already. You’ve heard him call you ‘Mama’ once through a phone call. Toji tried covering it up with a cough; you haven’t brought it up since.)

Toji clears his throat, regaining your attention. When you look down at him again though, he seems more nervous—all his moxie down the drain.

“So… Marry me?”

Your hands cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. He wraps his free arm around your waist, tilts his head to the side slightly and deepens the kiss.

You love him. You absolutely love him. There’s no doubt in your mind that you love him and your heart belongs to him. There’s no one but him by your side in the future you see. Every inch of you belongs to him, and he wants to belong to you just as much.

So, you pull from the kiss and whisper against his lips, “Let’s get married, baby.”

“Fuck yeah.”

You yell out in surprise as he picks you up with one big, strong arm and takes you inside. You wrap your legs around his waist in reaction, desperate to not fall.

But you know Toji wouldn’t ever let you fall. Not in a million years.

“Wanna go to the bedroom first?”

“You horny motherfucker.”

“Only for you.”

“Just put that ring on my finger and cook.”

He sets you on the counter like you’re porcelain. He takes the glimmering ring from the little box and slides it onto your ring finger. A perfect fit. You hadn’t even told him your ring size. His eyes are trained on it for several seconds before he mumbles, “Belongs right there.”

Whatever dessert he makes tonight, nothing will top this moment. This is the cherry on top to the sweetest birthday you’ve ever had. If whatever you went through was to get you here, to meet the man who’s the love of your life, you’d do it all over again.

@heresan here’s the birthday fic 🤭 i’ll get back to you vv soon, the last two days have been wild 👀

[witchybitchy222]

Azriel x Reader | Satisfaction

You have a date and Azriel wishes it’d been with him. Basically.

Hey y’all! It’s been a long while and I apologize for not only that, but also the quality of this fic… I know it isn’t great, and full disclosure i am not sober while writing this and I did not edit or re read this. If I make a part two I promise it’ll be better LMAO

Before his boots had even touched down on the balcony at the House of Wind, Azriel had been dreaming of his bed. He’d worked nearly 24 hours straight and wanted nothing more than to drift off into oblivion for at least a day.

He’d thrown himself into any and all tasks he could find, trying in vain to keep his thoughts from wandering to you.

Azriel had been yearning for you for well over a century now, and your introverted and private personality meant although he’d known you’d been with other people during the 150 years you’d known each other, he never had to hear about it and therefore never had to go through the pain of thinking about it.

Now, however, you’d decided to start seriously dating and he felt like he was going insane.

You’d been on a few dates recently with the same male, always coming home with a smile, always aughing and blushing with the other females at training as they teased you about him. It was devastating.

Yesterday, you’d all been in the sitting room after dinner, drinking Rhys’s wine and laughing at whatever dumb thing Cassian had done that day, when Mor brought up him.

Azriel had never hated a name like he now hated the name Ian. Ian. The male who had all of your attention as of late.

He silently cursed Mor and her big ass mouth for mentioning your upcoming date. You’d been sitting next to him at the time and he was shamelessly basking in the light of your undivided attention.

“You know,” the blonde had said, “you’ve been seeing each other for three weeks, I think it’s about time you fucked.”

You’d gone beet red at the mention, slowly turning toward Mor with a look that was nothing short of mortified.

“Oh come on,” she’d laughed, looking from your distressed face to Nesta and Cassian barely containing their amusement, “you can’t act like you weren’t thinking it already”

“Maybe! But I wasn’t about to announce it to the whole room!” You’d hissed in her direction as Nesta and Cassian let out their laughter.

Azriel had gone completely still at your admission, his ears ringing and mind swirling with the thought of you touching and being touched by another male. His sudden possessiveness was down right shameful. You’d never seen him as anything but a friend, and he’d be out of his mind to risk that friendship. He had no claim to you and no reason to feel so sick at the thought of you and someone else.

That’s why, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, Azriel had done what he’d always done when his feelings got out of control. He’d isolated himself and focused on what he did best, his work.

Azriel was walking down the hallway to his room when he heard the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen, knowing immediately that as hard as he’d tried to avoid hearing about your date with Ian, he’d walked right into your post-date debrief with Mor.

“… it can’t have been that bad.” The blonde’s feathery voice floated out, and Azriel stopped dead in his tracks.

He knew better than to eavesdrop on his friends. There was a reason he kept his shadows reigned in at home, he’d heard way too much coming from Cassian and Nesta’s room to ever want to know everything that was going on in that house.

But this time, he just couldn’t help himself.

“It was… boring.”

“Ouch!” Mor cried “that’s probably the worst thing you can say about sex.”

Azriel tensed, now smelling the obvious scent of sex and wine in the air. This was a literal nightmare.

“It wasn’t really sex, just… hand… stuff”

He could practically see your blush as your voice trailed off in embarrassment.

“Still, you shouldn’t be bored when someone is touching you.”

“Well I was. And now I’m all… frazzled. And unsatisfied.”

“ you mean horny”

Azriel could imagine you rolling your eyes at that, cheeks still delightfully pink.

“Fine, Mor. I’m horny.”

Hearing those words come out of your mouth got Azriel more worked up than he’d ever admit, and he decided it was time to stop lingering in the hall and get the rest he needed before he did something foolish.

He readied himself for bed methodically, willing himself not to think any more about you and your current aroused state.

Despite the bone-deep exhaustion he was feeling, sleep wouldn’t come. Azriel lay staring at the ceiling for nearly an hour before giving in and sliding his hand under the covers and palming his already throbbing cock.

He closed his eyes and let his mind wander where it always did, to you. He thought of how that perfect pink blush would look on your face as he kissed and licked his way down your body, squeezing and nipping your skin as he worked his way to your core, he thought of all the ways he would make sure you were more than satisfied. He thought of how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking as you stared up him through your lashes, and it wasn’t long before Azriel was coming undone.

He lay in bed after, and didn’t try to curb his thoughts, allowing himself to fall asleep thinking of you wrapped in his arms.

[dulcewrites]

New Traditions

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x afab!reader

Summary: As the first holiday season in your new home approaches, Rhett and you start new traditions and make promises (wc: 3k)

Warnings/Fic notes: mentions of unhappy childhoods (reader and Rhett probably needed more hugs as kids). Allusions to a rich!reader. Me using decorating as smokescreen for a character study lol. Daddy issues galore. The Christmas music is very self indulgent on my part too. Allusions/mentions to 18+ content

A/N: *Mariah Carey whistle note* ITS TIMEEEEEE. Lmao hiii, I hope you all are doing well. It has been a minute since I have written for a fandom outside of hotd so please bear with me on that front. I eventually want to take request soon (for Rhett, some tgm characters, and Calvin Evans) so my inbox is always open if y’all are interested - just shoot me something. If you read anything you like please reblog, like, and or comment. Also let me know when y’all put your decorations up (if you celebrate anything). I’m a staunch first weekend of December girlie myself ❤️

Masterlist

As pathetic as it sounds out loud, Rhett had grown accustomed to having the rug pulled out from under him. He had a looming and painful history with differentiating the cards life dealt him and what he deserves; over time, they began to blur together. At a certain point, he just resigned himself to life just being sort of... eh. Reminding himself that though things could be better, they could also be much, much worse.

It would all combinate in this hazy, syrupy snapshot of moments that ran together. At least, that is what he thought till he met you.

He thinks you would not understand it if he told you - that you are one of those people that is easy to love, while people like him took work to want. Hard work. Something that would be likened to the type of manual labor a Wyoming, farm grown boy like him is used to doing day in and day out. If he dared to express it, you would give him a good-natured laugh and shake your head like you always did when he said something self-deprecating.

"What kind of women do you take me for, Abbott," followed by a playful eye roll. "The type that settles?"

Rhett supposes that was the conundrum with you. Because the statement is not wrong; nothing about you gave off the impression you would settle for anything. That could come from a life of having almost everything at your fingertips. But the questions still tickle his tongue and doubts still makes his brain hazy.

It has only compounded since the two of you moved in together.

It was you who posed the suggestion, a shy smile on your lips. Despite the skepticism and disappointment from your parents, it did not feel right for you to sell your grandmother's ranch, the one your father grew up on, after she passed. You insisted on keeping it yourself, clearly having a soft spot for the house you would visit whenever you had the chance to.

Our home, you called it.

Your baking kits in the kitchen, his horses in the stable, and various clothes in the closets. He should feel reassured by this all… and yet… he waits for the other shoe to drop. For the rug to once again be pulled out from under him. Everything is so warm and new, and he worries about the day it slips through his fingers like sand.

Words in general, and expressing this specifically, does not come easy for him. Though loving you comes as easy as breathing for him. Rhett puts all that stuffing emotions and feelings away to good use as he tries to focus on the present. The only thing that manages to keep his mind clear is keeping his hands busy. So, he tries to make up for it in any way he can. The pale wall color your grandma insisted on keeping but reminded you of a sterile hospital? Painted to something more vibrant. The light fixtures in the kitchen that you said were ‘far too phallic to enjoy a meal under’? Well, those new ones are the best money could buy.

He just finished the building that rocking chair you got for the porch when you stick your head out of the house to call him in for dinner, eyes alight with something he could not put his finger on.

Dinner was silent, too silent for you, who always could spark up a conversation with anyone. A tiny sense of dread sets in, and he can’t help but think it maybe something he did… or did not do.

“The chicken is good,” he tries to start any kind of conversation or joy behind the eyes, but all he gets is an empty smile.

The unnerving quietness carries on for a few of minutes, but you suddenly drop your fork on the plate with a clank.

“Did y'all go all out for Christmas?”

Along with the noise the fork made, the question startled Rhett. He blinks blankly utterly confused by how it went from silence to that.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry,” your lips downturn into an embarrassed frown. “I should not have assumed y’all even celebrate it. I guess I just assumed with your mom and all.”

“No, we do celebrate,” he shakes head.

“So, did you go all out? When did you guys put the decorations out?”

Rhett shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Much like everything else that comes to his family, it is never linear or easy. He doesn’t know how to explain how one year they just stopped decorating; gifts and midnight mass were seen as hassles not the usual. Everything that the holidays stood for: family, love, gratefulness, togetherness was the antithesis of them. The joy and warmth of the holidays was sucked from the house and never came back till Amy was old enough to know what Christmas was - till Rebecca and his ma teamed up one day to make a fuss about the house being cold and sterile. What they meant is that Royal was cold… and sterile.

Rhett can still remember the look of disbelief in Rebecca’s eyes when Perry didn’t back her up on the matter. It was a look Rhett had seen from when he was a teen till the last day, he saw Becca. He still gets a rotten taste in his mouth thinking about he never got to tell her how much she meant to him. But that would also mean admitting that often his biggest advocate was a woman basically forced into the family versus the people he shared actual blood with.

Slight embarrassment burns his mouth like a hot iron down his thoat.

With a tight throat, Rhett shrugs. “It changed every year,” he lies. Then shakes his head. “It wasn’t a big deal really.”

Almost as abruptly as you stopped eating, you get up from the kitchen table. He just about calls out to see if you are ok, but you come back in the dining area carrying a picture.

“When I was cleaning out the garage, I found this.”

Rhett leans over, and he can’t help the slow grin that settles on his face. At first, he didn’t recognize the faces in the picture but then he saw a familiar crooked, mischievous smile, but this time on a younger girl. A little you. Decked out in a red, poofy dress and tiny white fur shawl. Shiny black saddle shoes that gleam even in the old photo.

“My baby as a baby,” he whispers.

Rhett continues to scan the photo. Behind you was two older people, and he can only assume they are your parents. They are exactly how he thought they would be and nothing like he thought at the same time. Your mom casually glamourous in green, your dad in a suit far too done up just for family dinner with a heavy hand on your shoulder. You wear her eyes but his nose. Right behind the three of you, a heavily decorated banister and in the foreground a Christmas tree so large that Rhett thinks it has to be a safety hazard.

You do not seem as happy or in awe of the relic as him, in fact you look sick at the sight.

“That was taken before they sat me down to tell me they were getting a divorce.”

Rhett’s heart sinks a little at the as the way your mouth juts out in bitterness.

“Looking back on it, I should have known. Dad was never home, mom was detached, probably depressed. Ya know, I remember them specifically saying that nothing would change, and naive little me not only believe that but wanted it. Not realizing something was just… off. But I guess most nine-year-old’s can’t tell the difference.”

He supposed it was easier for him to paint a rosier picture of your parents, for his sake and yours. Maybe winters in Texas were better than ones he experienced, maybe life was better. He has seen pictures of house, the compound, you grew up on. But now hearing what you are saying made pity take over the normal envy.

Rhett reaches out to grab your hand, and squeezes. “M’ sorry.”

You wave your free hand nonchalantly thought the casualness does not meet your eyes fully.

“No use crying over spilt milk,” you sigh. “I just saw the picture and tried to rack my brain for the last time we were all together for the holidays. After that one, it was one year with mama, the next with dad. And I don't think we ever decorated the house together. That was my caregiver, Jodie's job. Made me curious other people’s traditions I guess."

Rhett fiddles with the rings on your fingers while chewing on the fleshy part on the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe we can make our own,” he mutters softly. “Startin’ this year.”

You look up through your lashes, eyes fluttering away from the picture that sat on the table.

“Really?”

He nods. If that is what you want, he’d do it for you. Like he would do anything for you. Your gaze goes out the window across from the table. The leaves on the trees already began to change and fall to the ground. Going from green to various shades of red, purple, and brown. The season already has changed; heat melting away as the temperature dropped and cool breeze set in.

Your spirit noticeably lightens. “Do you think we can get a real tree? Mamma always said it was too much of hassle to get a real one.”

Rhett holds up his hand and extends his pinky. “As long as there is mistletoe in the house.”

Under new light fixtures, and with the sun grazing the ground as it sets, the two of you made your first promise.

Investments are important.

Your father told you so all your life. To the giant painting he bought for the Tennessee house (the one you later realized was a Degas), the stocks he bought for you for your fifteenth birthday, or his insistence you go to his alma mater. All investments that he expected payoff for. Your father will always be the smartest businessman you know, and he still managed to be so clueless with everything else.

People are not investments. Not really, at least. Not in the way your father looked at it. You can put money and effort into something, but it is never a guarantee it will work out that way. And you can’t just leave when things do not go your way. Your poor father never seemed to understand that, and you think it broke your grandma’s heart in the process.

And maybe you are no better than him. As a child, you admittedly reaped the benefits your parents offered you, almost to a fault. They would often laugh at your ability to move on to the next thing without so much as a blink of an eye. Onto the next toy, the next piece of clothing, the next makeup item. How can you criticize behavior you gave into yourself?

“You’re a reformed brat,” Jennie, your old debutant buddy turned psychologist said over the phone. “Give yourself some grace. At least you want better yourself now.”

So, you gave yourself just that. You didn’t sell your grandma’s place for the equity or whatever bullshit your dad mentioned. You didn’t Amelia County leave though your mom offered to set you up with her in New York. And God… you’re letting your fall - fall so deeply in love with Rhett, despite the voice in your head that tells you not to.

You replay your, in your opinion, embarrassing meeting. Bursting into tears in the middle of a grocery store was not the romantic story you want to tell others. But he came up to you to say that though he only spoke to her a handful of times when she would stay in her vacation home in Wabang, he knew your grandmother was a good woman and would be missed.

A blubbery mess of grief right next to the meat aisle spiraled into decorating your grandmother's house together - your house.

With Frank Sinatra’s version of ‘Let it Snow’ playing in the background, a rush of giddiness takes over. Jodie always said you had an eye for pretty things.

"A little excited, no," Rhett eyes copious amounts of bags you brought into the house. “It’s not even December yet.”

You survey the bags and boxes laid out. So, you went slightly overboard. Like driving out of town to the nearest big city to do some more shopping. Some habits die hard.

"This is just the starter stuff," you pull reams of garland out of the bag. “Just wait till they start selling the trees. Oh! And I got ingredients to teach you how to make sugar cookies from scratch.”

Rhett is silent for a moment, and you wonder if it is too much too fast. Your mother always said that enthusiasm, especially around men, should be tempered and demure. No one likes a girl that acts like a dog with a bone, sweetheart.

“Do.. do you think we can invite Amy over for the cookies thing,” his cobalt eyes soften at the mention of his niece. “I think she would like that.”

“Of course.”

You knew how important it was to Rhett for things to stay good with Amy. Her reception of the move was the only one he seemed to care about. You could not help but think the rest of Rhett’s family was skeptical about his decision. Cecilia was always kind towards you, and she was mostly receptive to the idea, but you assume it must hurt to see her baby venture out. Something about her reminded you of your own mother. Two women clearly used to the short end of the stick, and had to find ways to deal with it. While your mother found salvation in travel and extravagant parties, Cecilia found hers in faith.

Perry was well… Perry, about the whole thing. Just based on how he handled the news, and small tidbits you picked up from Rhett, it seemed like Perry was upset about Rhett making a choice just for himself. A luxury that the eldest son had a premium on for some time.

But you think it was the patriarch of the family who took it the hardest. It may be the reality of having two less hands around 24/7 like Rhett says, but you tend to think it is something deeper with Royal. Anger, sadness, pride - all of them??? You don’t know.

But what you do know is that family tension is something both you and Rhett know far too well.

After unpacking the bags and boxes you got, the smoky coos of Frank Sinatra transition into the pop Christmas playlist you put together. You don’t remember when the bottle of red wine came out, whether it was between Britney singing about what she wants for Christmas that year or Mariah singing about a holy night. It might have been after you insisted the two of you try your hand at diy decorations. But Rhett rolled his eyes when you talked about getting glasses, taking swings straight from the bottle instead.

“I don’t know how you drink this shit,” he wrinkled his nose, but he takes another hit.

“Just like you enjoy your watery beer,” you retake the bottle from him to have some more yourself.

“Last time I checked,” he expertly ties red and green ribbon into pretty bows and knots. “You were there with me, drinkin’ said watery beer.”

You bite your lip as you watch his brows furrow, and he pokes his tongue out sweetly as he ties meticulously.

“You’re quite good at that.”

“‘M good with ropes too.”

It could be the red wine, which always made your insides warm and fuzzy. Or if could just be the Rhett of it all. Him indulging this perhaps silly childhood wound of yours in full earnest.

“Hmmm,” you shuffle closer to him. The two of you might a makeshift area on the living room floor of pillows and blankets. An almost sickly-sweet peppermint candle ablaze on the table, and the fireplace crackling nearby.

“Royal used to make me secure the lines and pull logs. Kinda got good at it.”

By this time, you’re stuck at his side, suddenly a little fixated on hair on his neck that trickles up to his jaw and cheeks. You like him like this; hair falling from behind where it is tucked behind his ears. Scruffy and soft.

“Maybe you can show me how good you are.”

Rhett’s attention still doesn’t stray from the ribbons he cuts and ties, a task he is clearly taking seriously, but he nods in agreement. You roll your eyes slightly at how oblivious he can be.

“On me, Rhett,” you spell it out for him. “You can use the ropes on me.”

He stops and turns with a look of wanton, wetting his lips for a moment.

“Yeah,” he asks, the inflection at the end of the question breathy and soft.

You nuzzle your nose into area right under his ear with a hum, kissing the skin there and taking in the smell of his cologne. A woodsy scent with sprites of magnolia and cedar. It was one that consumed the bedroom and your mind. You spent much of your formative years pretending to hate the idea of being desired or wanted - chasteness an idea drilled into your head since you were a little girl and told by the ladies of your church that the only thing worse than being ungodly is being ‘fast’. Then you spent college overcorrecting to the point of farce. Letting the guys you knew had little regard for how you felt at the end of it make decisions for you. Emotionally, mentally, and sexually.

Your first time with Rhett was a hodgepodge of giggle and sighs only to be heard by vast emptiness of the home you do sit in now. His boots and jeans askew on the floor. You eccentric grandma’s knick knacks watching you two. Most notably, the cat clock that reflected in the moonlight, the one Rhett insisted you keep when he moved in. After him eating you out until you cried, and a night that ended in you making a trip to the local pharmacy for a Plan B, you honestly expected a series of awkward moments that would single-handedly ruin the small town bliss you experienced for the first time. And yet, in the morning, his lips turned up in a shy smile and he asked if you had bacon in the fridge.

You didn’t realize how badly you were under water and needed to breathe until you came to Wabang. Your lips work their way up his jaw til you reach the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s make it another tradition.”

[wint3r-h3art]

Until Eternity | Vampire!Strange Supreme

Summary: Fate took you away from him. Now that he found you centuries later, will he let the same fate happens to you again?

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: ANGST with eventual smut. Slow burn with feels, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, blood (briefly because duh). Happy Ending**

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

A/N: I’m back for today, y’all (literally the only day i’m free 😭). I hope you enjoyed it. I spent literally a month on this (and I kind lowkey not happy with the ending because it feels rush lmao). Nevertheless, I hope you liked it. I don’t know why I haven’t written Strange Supreme at all since he’s my most favorite one???? If you enjoyed it, comment and reblog is greatly, greatly appreciated. I love to hear about your thought on this, because besties, there’s a lot to unpack.

*** Please do not copy/plagiarize my work, or repost it anywhere else.

Stephen stood in the silent darkness, blending into the night as the smell of petrichor permeated the air. 

The rain had just begun to fall upon the earth, soaking every dry crevice with life once more, marking the end of a long, brutal summer, and ushering in the long-awaited autumn. The leaves were just slowly turning red, and the warmth of the summer air barely departed even if it was already October.

His eyes glowed dimly beneath the moonless night, pale and sharp, almost colorless by the way the glacial blue slowly faded to silvery white. His skin was ashen, cool like marble–a contrast to dark circles under his eyes. He looked almost sickly by the way his skin hung over his sharp cheekbones.

A cruel fate, he mused as his lips pulled back, revealing the sharp, pearly canines as he looked down at his gloved hands. Centuries have passed and his heart still hoped that one day the universe would return to what once was his. He had traveled the world, searching in every corner of the world, yet he found himself back here once again.

Standing in the mask of the shadow, watching from afar as his eyes could see, feeling breathless once more as if it was the first time he had laid eyes upon you. A pessimist he was, Stephen couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sudden burst of warmth that flooded his cold, unbeaten heart. It was like an ocean, filling up the trenches of the scars that were left when he lost you. 

How cruel was the fragility of mortality–ripping you away from him over and over again? 

The wickedness of the universe, punishing a creature like him to eternal damnation– devoiding him of any joy for all eternity—perhaps as a punishment to balance the universe once more for the deed he had done–for daring to try and cheat death; the defiler of the natural law.

But now he finally found you. Again.

Upon centuries of searching through endless, fractured hope of his–centuries of loneliness was nothing compared to the sliver of hope you have given him at the moment. And by the grace of the Damn, he won’t let you go ever again.

Taking a deep breath, Stephen could smell your scent lingering heavily among the crowd, far sweeter with a tinged for floral notes–like honey and lavender coursing through your veins, making his mouth salivate. All of his rationality wavered between hunger and needs.  The thought of tasting you upon his tongue–the smell of your scent overwhelming him once more, and he couldn’t push the thought away. 

How long had he yearned to be close to you, yet the anticipation scared him? The what-if questions, whether you would find him suitable to be a lover or companion scared him more than the light of the sun itself. 

Surely, turning to ashes was less painful than your rejection.

He wanted to laugh at the thought. How pathetic he was–a creature who could swallow a world terrified of a mortal woman…

No, he shook the thought away. You were more than that to him.

You were his heart, his soul, and his star–his compass that guided him on the right path. You were the reason his unbeaten heart remained hopeful.

His attention shifted once more from his thoughts at the sound of your laughter rang in the night. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as you pulled a man into a hug before saying goodbye. He knew he was your friend, but it didn’t stop his heart from feeling a pang of jealousy. Oh, how he wishes to touch you.

 Stephen’s eyes continued to follow you, though he remained where he stood, not wanting to draw any attention to himself.

He watched you looking both ways at the crosswalk, waiting for the traffic to die out a bit. As you took a few steps forward, he heard from the far distance, the tire-screeching sound heading your way, but of course, you were unaware of that.

He listened closely as the truck rounded the corner–so quickly for any mortal to react, and without any consideration of the traffic. He told himself again that he won’t interfere. If fate meant for you and him to not exist at the same time, then he should let it—then images of you dying before him over the course of his immortality flashed before his eyes, and every rationality left him.

“Fuck it,” he said, using his power to transport himself. 

He reappeared less than a second later like a rush of energy, bursting through the sound barrier with a loud bang, sending the speeding truck barreling off the road and straight into a metal pole. He had already caught you in his arms while he reappeared, whisking you away to safety.

A few moments later, five police cars came into halting screech as police rushed out to pull the suspects out of the wreckage. Stephen gazed down at your frightening form, trembling in his arms like a baby animal. Your eyes were wild. Fear permeated from your blood and straight to his nose, reeking of sickly sweet scent like spoiled fruits that were left under the sun too long.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at you. 

You couldn’t answer him, except to nod. 

His eyes scanned your body quickly, surveying for any scratches or wounds. He would not figure himself, nor the driver if there were any marks on you. He relaxed once he noticed that there were no scratches on you.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” he muttered to himself under his breath as he stood there with you still in his arms. He could feel your body trembling in his arms while your heartbeat frantically, pumping the blood in your veins with effort.

Your adrenaline was still pumping in your veins as you stared up. Your breathing was still heavy, inhaling every mouthful of air into your lungs as they allowed you to. 

Stephen could feel the burning sensation growing stronger the more he breathed in your scent. It became too apparent and it made his body tremble with needs from blood lust alone. It shouldn't have happened because he was feeding just before he came to check on you tonight. 

Stephen mentally groaned. You were his undoing indeed. Yet, he longed for it–for you.

“Wh–how did you do that?” You finally were able to speak as you looked wildly up at the man and then at the wreckage. It was impossible what just happened—the speed of the truck, and him—he was on the other side of the road, and then in a blink of an eye, he was here, whisking you away in his arms, away from this wreckage…

Stephen carefully set you down on your feet and took a step back, trying to create a distance between the two of you. But he quickly changed his mind when your legs gave out. It was best to simply let you use him for support.

“Do what? Pulling you out from incoming traffic?”  His voice was too calm. 

You stared up taken aback by how relaxed he was–it was almost as if he wasn’t scared or terrified of it. A normal human would be shaken by just pure adrenaline alone, but this man–this man simply looked bored.

“I saw you across the street a few minutes ago, you can’t possibly get here this fast–”

“I think you mistake me for someone else, miss,” he quickly cut you off, and a small part of you snapped. You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline that was left in you or if was it something else. Whatever it was, you really didn’t appreciate what he just said to you.

“Look I am grateful that you saved my life, but what I don’t appreciate is you gaslighting me into thinking that what I saw earlier wasn’t right.” Your voice wavered between anger and wanting to cry. There were so many things happening all at once, and as your body slowly came down from the high, it slowly registered to your brain that you almost died. For this man—this stranger to just blatantly lie in your face, you were beyond furious. 

“And what do you want me to say to that?”

You narrowed your eyes for a few seconds. He was self-assured. You didn’t understand why he had the need to lie to you about it.

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “I don’t know.  Just something that would help me rationalize all of this. At least tell me your name.”

“It’s for the best if we remain strangers, miss. Have a good night.”

His voice sounded so sad. It made you even more eager to understand him. 

When he turned to walk away from you, you instinctively grasped his hand, but all you got was his leather glove. Stephen halted immediately and looked at you with uncertainty and horror as you stood there, looking at his glove and then at his hand. 

Stephen quickly snatched the glove away from you because he couldn’t afford to have your scent linger on his belongings way more than it is right now. Every cell in his body was buzzing and craving for you, and the more time he spent with you, the more he felt all of his sanity slowly slipping away from him.

It would not be long before his hunger dictated all of his wills. 

Your fingers grazed him by accident. Stephen quickly pulled himself away as if he was burned by your touch.

You sucked in your breath sharply at how cool his skin was, but suddenly you felt yourself slipping into the darkness. Your ears range briefly before you feel like your whole body is being submerged underwater.

The noise around you drowned out, melted into a jumble of sound till there was silence. Your body went limp. Images flashed before your eyes like one of those old times in movies. It was blurry, but then the images were clear.

Your brows pulled into a deep frown, watching images of a woman—no it was you, but it wasn’t you at the same time. You flinched at the sudden noise that seemed to emit from the scenes before you. You were smiling and laughing, dressing like one of those old-timey clothes with a man. You weren’t sure of who he was at first, but he felt familiar. Upon further inspection, you found yourself gasping. 

It was the stranger—he was looking exactly like you saw him, except that he looked happier. You were kissing and laughing while holding onto each other.

 “I, Y/N. Take you, Stephen Strange, as my lawfully, wedded husband,” you heard the woman say before she–or you kissed him. 

She–no, you and him was standing under the pale light, wearing a long flowing white dress. There was nothing but the soft, flickering amber from the candlelight illuminating. There were no guests, nor anyone else at the altar, except for the two figures. You felt your chest swell with a sudden burst of happiness, but the scenes soon flashed to a much somber one. 

You were now laying in bed, looking deathly sick. The man was sobbing and holding onto your hands. Crimson tears rolled down his sharp cheekbones, falling onto your white gown, till it was deep red. He was saying something, but you couldn’t hear it well enough because the scene was suddenly cut short. All you remembered was his eyes–they were as they are now–dark, sad, and somber, marred with dark circles, and brimmed with bloody tears.

A loud gasp slipped past your lips, and you felt your body slowly fall. You expected the pain to shoot through you, but it never came.

You blinked as the darkness that covered your vision slowly slipped away. Dim light slowly pours into your line of vision. Your first image was the man once again, looking at you with a concerned look. His eyes were pale blue, almost too pale, you realized. He looked almost otherworldly, yet he was familiar.

“Are you alright?” He asked. His deep, baritone voice sent a wave of warmness through you. 

You frowned when you realized that you were once again back where you were. Tears slipped from your eyes. Your hand slowly reached up with uncertainty to touch his face. The coolness of his skin didn’t shock you anymore as his eyes widened. He opened his mouth to protest, but you felt his whole demeanor shift.

Stephen closed his eyes, savoring the way your warmth felt against his skin. It felt strange, yet familiar at the same time–something that he longed for centuries yet never dared to dream of being this close.

“Stephen…” 

He opened his eyes to find you looking at him with confusion. You sounded uncertain as if you were testing the name on your lips for the first time.

“Your name is Stephen Strange, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t utter the words except that he was nodding slowly in admission. He had yet to reveal himself to yet–

“I–” you started, but frowned to find a better word. “We met before, didn’t we?”

“I don’t know what you mean. This is the first time I see, miss. I’ve said it many times before–”

“Your name is Stephen Strange and I was your wife…in another life–I don’t know which one it is, but perhaps a long time ago.” You struggled to understand yourself as words fell from your mouth. Tears were still rolling down your face, and you didn’t understand why. Your chest hurt so badly every time the images flashed in your mind.

Stephen remained quiet as you continued.

“They were your memories, weren’t they–or were they mine?”

Stephen stared at you for a long moment as you struggled to make sense. He wanted to admit it, but he was scared of what fate has in store for him in this lifetime.

“You won’t believe what I have to say,” he finally spoke. 

“Why is that?”

“Because I know you,” he said quietly. “It happened so many times that I just know you won’t believe me.”

“What do you mean “too many times”?” you asked as you took a step forward. Stephen found himself stepping back. 

He looked around and there were people lingering. “Do you trust me?”

You frowned, unsure why he asked you this but you nodded. A small part of you was afraid though, and Stephen felt too by the way the sickly, sweet scent permeated your body.

Stephen’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line. If only you knew how capable he was at inflicting worse things than what you feared…

“I have no reason to kill you,” he said softly as if he could read your mind, looking more sad than offended. It was in your nature to fear a creature like him. “I just want to give you the answer that you want.”

“Fine. Then show me.”

The heavy, wooden doors groaned as he pushed them open, revealing a grand staircase that led up to the darkness. The place smelled of old books and leather. As soon as you stepped inside, the heavy doors slammed shut with a dull thud, startling you in the process. 

“What is this place?” you asked softly, yet your voice sounded louder in the silent darkness. 

Amber light slowly illuminates the dark, emptiness, revealing rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling bookcases. 

“My home,” he said softly. 

“So you brought me to your home…to show me what exactly?”

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

You thought for a bit and shrugged. “What’s that have to do with anything?”

Stephen took a candelabra and motioned you to follow him up the stairs. They creaked beneath your feet as you followed him not too far behind. He briefly turned before holding up the light to reveal a portrait.

Your eyes widened.

“You and I have met many times before over the course of centuries,” he started as your eyes bored into the portrait of you and him, dressing in the exact clothes you saw a moment ago. “The last time we met, we managed to get married and live happily together, until–”

“Until I suddenly died…” you finished his sentence. “I saw it–I died in this house, didn’t I?”

“You died from consumption–tuberculosis in the modern term. We only married for a few months,” he said almost sadly. “I wanted to save you, but I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“To save you means you have to become what I am, and I couldn’t live knowing that I have made you suffer the same way that I was.”

“So you're just letting me die like that?” you frowned, not understanding his reason.

“We weren’t meant to be together,” he said softly. “The first time I tried to cheat death—to prevent death from happening to you, it made me become this,” he said as he slowly revealed his true form to you.

His eyes were now glowing almost subtly against the dim light. His bluish veins were becoming more visible on the surface of his pale skin. His canines elongated. His fingers were black, his nails sharp almost like claws.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but you remained where you were. 

“The spell that I was trying to cast had somehow doomed me to walk the night, and become this horrid creature. Tell me again why I would want you to suffer the same fate as me?”

“So you just watch me die, over and over again?” you frowned.

“It’s the only way,” he said softly.

“No, Stephen. It’s not the only way. If you love me like you said you do, you would have saved me then instead of wallowing in this self-pity of yours,” you snapped. “I-I just don’t understand why–”

“Your death is an absolute point in the universe,” he cut you off. “No matter what I do, you and I weren’t meant to be together.”

“So you're just going to let it happen like that?” 

“Y/N, please you must understand.”

“What do you fear, Stephen Strange?” you asked as you walked toward him till you could touch his face. Stephen closed his eyes and leaned into your touch almost immediately. 

“You,” he said softly. “I am afraid of existing in a world without you.”

“But you refused to turn me, and instead you continue to chase after me like this?”

Stephen swallowed for the very first time as if you had hit the nail on the head. 

“What are you really afraid of, Stephen?” you asked again.

You could see red liquid pooled in his eyes before he looked down as if he was ashamed to admit it. You cradled his face in your hands and you saw that his crimson tears now stained his pale skin. 

“Losing you forever,” he said softly. “I don’t want your existence to get completely erased from the universe, Y/N.”

“Is that what you think will happen if you turn me?”

He nodded reluctantly. Stephen didn’t know about it himself, but he didn’t want to think about it. The fear consumed him far too much and for far too long. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair for me to have you make a choice for me over and over again?”

Stephen didn’t say anything. You gently pulled him down until he could feel your breath fanned over his face. Fear no longer permeated off you, but a rather new scent–a tantalizing one.

“Why did you save me earlier if I was fated to die then and there.”

“I just found you,” he said softly. 

Your eyes flickered from his down to his lips. You could feel your heart quickening the closer you got to him. “So you wanted to be selfish and save me for a bit before you let me go. Again and again, and again.”

“Please don’t say it like that. I do love you so much that I’m willing to rip this world apart for you.

For a minute, you believed him. You didn’t know the sort of power or ability he possessed at the moment, but you knew he meant it when he said those words. 

Without a thought, you leaned in and kissed him. Stephen was surprised but welcomed your kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, while the other one cradled your face. You shuddered at the way the coolness of his skin felt against yours. He was slow and careful at first. Each movement was precise and calculated as if he was afraid to hurt you. 

You moaned into him before you opened your mouth and allowed him to slip his tongue inside. Stephen was still reluctant to completely allow himself to be immersed completely in his desires, but you pushed him. 

Oh, you pushed him alright. 

Without a thought, you slowly take a few steps back, pushing him until his hard body hits the wall with a soft thud. Stephen gasped in surprise. You could see him smirking for the very first time, and for that small moment, your mouth captured him once again.

You kissed him with urgency, while your hands laid flatly against his chest. You couldn’t feel his heart beating, but you know it doesn’t matter anyway. You weren’t meant to be together so if the universe decided to say “fuck you” to you, you might as well take this opportunity and give him a memory that would last another lifetime.

Your fingers slowly trailed down his body, feeling the way his taut muscles strained and contracted underneath your palms.

Stephen hissed as he felt your hand covering his growing bulge. He quickly pulled away from your kiss and looked into your eyes.

“You are much bolder this time around,” he commented as he took both of your hands in his. Your eyes widened at the realization of how large his hands were. 

“I build differently this time around,” you joked before standing to your tippy toe to kiss him again. “I also don’t want to die without knowing what’s it like to have sex with a vampire, so maybe I’m just trying to make a good memory for both of us.”

Stephen’s eyes seemed to soften when he chuckled. He looked more human when he laughed, you realized. He brought your knuckles to his lips and kissed him almost too gently. 

“I assure you, it’s not that much different than what you know,” he smirked before he suddenly bridged-carrying you into one of the large rooms.

The candlelight suddenly came to life as you and he entered. Stephen gently laid you down on the large, plush bed before he slowly loosen the tie around his neck.

You were mesmerized by the way his long, thick fingers undone those buttons. Your mouth went dry when he began to undress. Your eyes followed a trail of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. Stephen noticed your hungry look and chuckled softly before he knelt astride your body.

“Is this some sort of a perk of being a vampire?” you asked as you let your fingers graze over the deep ridges of his abdomen. He didn’t seem to mind, which only encouraged you to explore his body more.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean,” he murmured against your skin as he lazily suckled at your neck. 

“Being hot,” you said bluntly, and if Stephen could blush, he would have been a deep shade of red by now.

“Is that what you thought of me?”

You nodded.

“I’m flattered,” he said. Stephen caressed your face almost too gently as he takes in your beauty. Adoration practically poured out of his skin as he looked at you and touched you so gently. “I know we just met and all, but are you sure you want to do this?”

You nodded. “If I’m not meant to exist in this world at the same time as you, then I might as well enjoy it as much as I can. The question is, will you be ok with it?”

“Every moment I spent with you burned into my memories for all eternity, darling. I’m more than ok with this,” he said before he leaned in and kissed you. He didn’t care at all if that made him sound desperate. 

He was much bolder now as when he captured your mouth. His tongue thrust into your parted lips, sliding against yours, licking and tasting every part of you until you were breathless. 

His fingers moved to the back of your head to position you however he wanted. You melted under the weight of his passion–he was practically devouring you whole. It was possessive and demanding, and you wanted more.

His hips pressed into yours, pinning you against the bed. His erection was prominent and heavy against your lower belly. You moaned into the kiss as your resolve slowly dissolved into nothingness. 

You had no idea how much he craved this. Every part of him was buzzing with excitement and needs. He was seeking solace in you–filling the void of loneliness he felt for so long. Touching you like this, kissing and tasting your skin beneath his tongue like this, touched him in a place he never thought still existed. The moment was fleeting for an immortal creature like him, yet it burned into him with a memory that’d last his lifetime.

Tearing his mouth away, Stephen kissed his way down your neck, nibbling and sucking at whatever skin his lips found. You, on the other hand, were restless and impatient as if something had taken over you. You were breathing heavily by the time his mouth wrapped around your breast.

His tongue slid over your taut nipple, licking and swirling around the sensitive nub just enough to make you moan. Your hands moved deftly on their own. Your fingers weaved into his dark, silken strand, tugging and pulling until he moaned deeply into your skin.

Stephen looked up, and you noticed how silvery his eyes were as if they were molten metal, sending goosebumps across your skin. There was something innately predatory in the way he was looking at you, yet it sparked something deeper inside you that made you want more.

You whined softly when his mouth left your breast, leaving you feeling bereft and restless, but that feeling soon dissipated into pure feral needs. 

Your eyes flew open when you felt his mouth descend upon your molten core. His tongue glided across your folds with a purpose before he pushed the tip past the slicked seam. A sharp hiss left your lips at the way the coarse hair of his beard scratched against the tender skin of your inner thigh.

Stephen moaned deep inside his chest as his tongue slid inside your quivering heat, penetrating as deep as he could before retreating back. He repeated this a couple of times until he was satisfied before he moved to flick his tongue around your sensitive clit. 

His focus was absolute and tuned into your pleasure. Your intoxicating scent permeated the air, making him high, drawing him in like some sort of his own personal kind of drug. He could feel the way your wall fluttered around his tongue, and he knew you were close to your first release. Even then he was relentless. 

He fucked you with his tongue in a shallow penetration until the quiet house filled with nothing but the sound of your moaning and panting.

He concentrated and focused on that one spot that made you strain below him, licking and sucking at the bud until you were nothing but a painting mess. It wasn’t long of course. You came not a moment after, clutching onto his head like it was your only lifeline while he continued to feast upon your body.

“Do you trust me, darling?” he asked as he slowly pulled over the edge. 

You nodded and watched as Stephen slowly slid his pants down until his cock was visible to you. You were watching of course of pure curiosity about what a vampire dick looks like. 

He was long and hard, with a perfect thickness that made your mouth water. Thick ropes of veins ran underside of the length with a promise of a pleasure that was drawn out from the inside.

Your breath shuddered as he stood between your parted legs. His eyes bored into you with that same look earlier, making you shiver and horny at the same time.

You watched as he lined the head of his cock along your aching opening. His chest was broad and oh so sculpted that you regretted not touching him earlier. If you lived to see another day, you’d make sure to let him know that. 

Your eyes continued to watch him stroke himself, making his shaft harder and thicker. 

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said softly.

“Take me,” you urged him, biting your lips, trying to dull your neediness for him. 

His hands pressed you gently before he pushed past your nether lips. The pink, fat tips breached you slowly, stretching you and filling you to the limit. Your eyes fluttered as he surged forward, hard and silken, filling you with torment and relief at the same time. 

You shivered and moaned as he pushed deeper into you, sliding through your scorching, tight heat until he buried himself to the hilt, his forehead pressed against yours. 

Each slow and tantalizing movement sent a shudder through him that he couldn’t help but offer a gentle smile, revealing the pearly white canine teeth. He looked more like a beast here than a man–the predator that he was meant to be, but his touch said otherwise.

He was careful and slow. Every time he surged forward you could feel every part of your soul ascend to heaven. You felt like you were losing your mind every time he pulled himself all the way out till the tip remained inside, making your body feel bereft and empty for his length.

You swallowed hard every time he pushed himself all the way inside you, knocking all the words right out of your mouth. Your forehead was damp despite his coolness as perspiration dampened your body.

Your hand reached up to touch his face. He was nuzzling into your touch at first, but he shocked you when he slipped your fingers into his mouth. 

You didn’t know what to say except to watch. His cheeks hallowed, sucking and drawing on your slender fingers with a steady and rhythmic suction, matching the way he was fucking your pussy with a slow, steady pump.

You gasped at the way the matching rhythm aroused you. You couldn’t think straight at that point. The way he was watching you only made you melt further into the pleasure. Nothing you ever had came this good, and you sure were losing your mind over it.

“I’m going to come,” he panted as his pace quickened. Every thrust seemed to get harder and deeper and the faster he moved, the less sane you’ve become. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock seemed to stroke deeper inside you. His greedy mouth tugged at your skin, building up a pleasure so intense that you came again without realizing it.

Stephen continued to move, faster this time, savoring the way your pussy was squeezing his length. Your body was like it was set on fire, yet not enough all at once as he continued to move inside you with a merciless pace that brought you both pain and pleasure. He hunched over you, caging your body to the bed, thrusting hard until he came with a deep growl.

Time felt like it was standing still as he stood there, spent inside you. At that moment you didn’t care. At that moment you were his once again.

You woke up slowly, reluctant as you lifted your head off his hard chest. You felt drained, tired, and spent, but in the most delicious way. Your body was sore and ached, yet you felt satisfied.

You opened your eyes and looked up to find his liquid, pale sapphire bored on your with tenderness. You were left breathless for a minute before you flashed him a flustered smile. Heat began to flood your face, and you felt him inhaling deeply.

Stephen felt his nerve on fire once more by the way your sweet, floral scent flooded his senses. He was deeply satisfied, yes, but the innate hunger was still there, craving deeply to taste you. He told himself though that he will wait for you to return home before he feeds again.

“Let me become like you,” you said suddenly.

He looked at you with shock. “You know I shouldn’t–”

“Stephen, listen to me. If you don’t do it now, you won’t know what will happen. What if I walked out of here and just went like that? What will you do? Wait for me, search for me for another hundred years?”

Stephen thought for a long moment, but you knew he was still unsure about this. You sighed and cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“This is my choice, Stephen. No matter what happens, it’s all me. Do you understand?”

He didn’t speak. 

“Please,” you pleaded with him softly. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this?”

You nodded eagerly. 

Stephen stared at you for a long moment, unblinking before he slowly brought your hand up to his lips. He closed his eyes for a long moment, inhaling the way your skin smelled. He could hear the sound of your heartbeat against your chest, slowly picking up speed. You smell warm and sweet, and without much thought, he sank his fangs into your wrist.

You gasped at the sudden sharp pain at first but soon melted into something more. Stephen growled deeply at the rich, intoxicating taste of your blood. You were like everything he knew you were: sweet, floral like honey and lavender. Your thoughts swarmed inside his head like a haze, swirling and floating at the back of his consciousness.

He drank for a long moment, as your body writhed against him in agony and lust. Your blood soothed him from the inside out, calming his weary soul. 

Stephen pulled back and quickly cut open his arm with his sharp nail. His dark crimson blood poured out of the long slit and poured into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered as you drank in the way the strange, rich liquid slowly slid down your throat. Your hand blindly reached up to him as your mouth latched onto him. 

Stephen could feel your pulse slow down. He counted in his head until he heard the last faint thud of your heart as you went limp. Then he watched, licking the wound on his arm to seal the wound, and he began counting.

Your eyes flew open, your skin hard and cool just like his. You stared at him and he at you. He was the first to reach out and you melted into his touch just like before. Centuries of memories flooded inside your mind–memories of many lifetimes played before you. 

Blood rolled down your cheeks as the warmth flooded your unbeaten heart. This was his memories of you–what remained of you for all these times.

“You won’t have to be alone anymore, Stephen. I will be with you for eternity,” you said softly before pulling him down for an assuring kiss. Indeed you’d be with him for eternity.

[fnf-beyond]

Because I don’t wanna write still, I have decided to list the chaos quartet in strength. Then their abilities (without giving away a huge lore thing), and their weaknesses (w/o giving away a huge lore thing).

Without further ado.

Blue is the weakest, obviously, as he has no unique powers, despite the fact he holds three other fucks in his mind, and can let them take charge. Another thing I just remembered, he has a higher resistance to being corrupted due to lore (laughs in “he still gets corrupted anyways lmao”)

His weaknesses are pretty much the same as a standard human, same with his strengths.

Spirit is next, he does have a slight buff in strength when he’s trapped in Hating Sim, but that’s only because he can use the game’s code/system to his advantage. Outside of that, he has the ability to stretch out his limbs far past their visual length and create two other, disfigured, spider-like limbs from his back that he can also shoot out far past their visual length. He can alter his form every now and then to permanently be something different (I.e, when he switches from his “pink blob” form to a “pink Senpai” form to his final “pink Sebastian” form), though it takes a lot out of him- hence why he can’t do it frequently. He can float, though it’s only when he trades his legs for a “ghost-like” whisp. Also, as a spirit, he can possess people and objects- however that is practically void as he is permanently stuck with Blue.

His main weakness is the Ghostbusters. All jokes aside, inside the Hating Sim, Glitch is the only being who is stronger than him, due to Glitch’s advanced abilities with code, and just his corrupted nature. Outside of Hating Sim, anyone who is faster and stronger than him, or just flat-out a demon or Angel, is stronger than him. So yes, Sophie is stronger than Spirit. Besides that, he doesn’t really have any weaknesses that isn’t a joke or just plain obvious. He’s dead, he can do that.

C is next. As a being of pure corruption, he can corrupt others through either physical contact (the primary way) or by insulting, berating, or just generally talking down to someone (secondary/assist way). He can also create/use illusions to assist in corrupting someone as it lowers others morale- depending on what illusions he creates. He- similar to Corrupted Sophie- can extend four “tentacle-like” limbs from his back. Something unique to him is being able to “crack” living beings until they explode. Essentially- if he has any sort of physical contact with someone, he can start making their skin “crack” like glass, allowing a black substance to leak from it, before the person shatters once they crack enough. It is stupidly painful and does leave scars if C is unsuccessful in killing them or he does it as torture.

He can regenerate/rapid heal*. The asterisk is because- if you noticed in recent art I’ve drawn of him, he noticeably has a missing eye and hand. He- and other corrupted beings- can heal minor injuries. Any life-threatening or generally major injuries can’t be healed without completely draining the corruption from their being (for example- y’all know how CPico has a blood splatter on the side of his head that suggests he tried to kill himself via gun? Minor spoiler for this, but he does manage to do so when against Darnell and Nene, but as he shot on the corrupted side of his head, the corruption on him instinctively tried to heal it, and did- saving him and bringing him back- though it resulted in him becoming uncorrupted). C can also hide in the shadows, due to his dark body. He can also see in the dark. He also has a heightened sense of strength and speed.

Now for weaknesses. All corrupted beings are weak to fire. Why? Idk I just felt like it. All corrupted beings are also weak to light-based powers, like Angelic powers, especially because they are demonic in nature. Positivity and happy shit does weaken him, because the whole “lmao ur trash” shit he does to corrupt others (this weakness is also the same for other corrupted beings). Bright lights shone directly into his face/eyes hurts because of his night vision.

Lastly is Soul. He is the strongest of the four, and by far the most dangerous. I am not joking. There are a lot of things that Soul can do that I can’t talk about right now, due to

L O R E

it will take *literally the whole fucking fanfic* before I can talk about it. Though- I might talk about it earlier if I feel like it’s a good time- though it will be a lot later than y’all are gonna want lmao.

With that out of the way, here are the very few things Soul can do that I CAN talk about.

Soul can manipulate other’s emotions *ever so slightly*, see in the dark, teleport to places he can see (he can also teleport others, but he has to go with them and touch them), fly, and dim his glow to hide in shadows. He also has a very heightened sense of strength and speed, which makes him physically stronger and faster than Spirit and C as well.

His weaknesses are being in confined spaces, as being unable to see the outside of where he’s stuck, and/or having no space to move, he can’t teleport outside of where he’s stuck. Bright lights shone directly in his face/eyes because of his night vision. He *does* have a weakness to light magic like angelic powers too.

And that’s it for them. I like explaining the goobers and how they function. I’m gonna be honest, I’m both excited and nervous about how y’all will react to the hidden lore stuff about Blue, Soul, and even Pico. *Especially* Soul since he actually is a combination of *three-ish* hidden lore things.

I’ll try to hurry the fuck up with this arc and get to the corruption segment (which will have a slightly faster pacing compared to this arc) so that I can write Soul and Spirit and develop them more as characters :p

I need to actually write and get past Hating Sim’s final chapter, the Winter chapters, and *maybe* week 7’s chapters, tho I’m thinking about omitting that week from this fic due to the fact idk how to write it across *three chapters-*. Weekend 1 won’t be included at all due to how I’ve written Nene and Darnell’s relationship to Blue being vastly different from canon them, plus this arc is solely in Blue’s POV.

[graciegoeskrazy]

Hey!!!!!

Ok first things first I love your stories normally I am not a fan of angst but the way you write your angst stories are amazing!!!! Literally had me crying lol 😂

I was wondering if you could write a Seirra Six/Court Gentry x daughter??? I have never read one before

Maybe something like she is around 5 - 6 and Lloyd kidnaps her as leverage (has her for maybe a week) and while he on the phone with Six, she starts crying because she wants her dad and Six hears her. Now that Court knows who has her he is able to rescue her. Then when he does rescue her they are both just happy to be together again.

Thank you and this is 100% your choice 💜

Leverage

Pairings: Court Gentry/Sierra Six x Daughter!reader

Content/Warnings: kidnapping, guns, some language, hospitals, not proofread, Lloyd Hanson lmao

WC: ~700

A/N: I told y’all id be back more. <3 THANK YOU to the awesome anon who requested this. I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your kind words. I hope it's okay that I ended up making y/n a liiiil bit older. no older than 12 is what I feel but idk y’all use your imagination. Enjoy!

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE - THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT

“It’s okay- It’s me, it’s me.” He turned you around to face him but still had his hand covering your mouth. “You’ree safe now, y/n.” The sight of his familiar blue eyes put you at ease. “Its alright. Im gonna remove my hand now but I need you to be quite, okay?” You nodded in response. Once he let go you let out the biggest breath trying to calm you down, but for some reason it did the exact opposite. He opened his arms for a hug, knowing you might crash any second. Without words or warning, you fell into his grasp, silently letting out gentle cries and whimpers into him, soaking his shirt with your tears. He pulled you away, “I’m gonna get you out of here but I need you to listen to every world I say, Okay?” You nodded in response between hiccups. He grabbed your hand and the both of you ran out of the room.

You ran through the vacant building with your dad. Everything felt like an unsteady rollercoaster. Flying through the estranged emptiness and running down flights of stairs as fast as your feet could carry you. You had a death grip on your dad’s hand, but even that wasn’t enough to keep you two together when Lloyd pulled you away.

One arm was placed around your neck and the other around your waist to try and restrain you from escaping. He walked backwards so he could still face your father. Whatever he was planning, Lloyd wanted Six to have a front row seat.

“What a reunion!”

“What do you want Lloyd?” He showed a sly grin. “You took everything from me. My job, my friends, my fucking finger.” He lifted his hand. “What do you think I could possibly want? I want you to repent, and suffer the way I did”

“Whatever you want from me doesn’t involve y/n. Let her go and we’ll talk.” Lloyd let out a fake laugh. “You’re a really funny man. Gosh what a funny joke- No I think I’ll kill her.” He said, Raising the gun to your temple. Cries and screams filled the air as you pleaded for release. “Lloyd, you don't wanna do this.”

“Oh I think I do.”

He cocked the gun. The scared and panic levels reached their all time high, as you feared for your life for what seems like the 100th time today. A shot went off. You were knocked to the ground. You were waiting for it to come, some jolt of instant pain or something, but you never felt anything. The last thing you remember was your dad holding you. His voice sounded muffled and you were still on the ground. That’s when everything went dark.

You woke up lying in a hospital bed. Wires and tubes layer horizontally across your whole body. Panic made way and settled in.A feeling that has shown itself frequently but no matter how much, it never gets easier. Your dad was by your side. His words sounded muffled again but they slowly made their way to formation. “Y/n. Can you here me sweetie? How do you feel? You alright?” A bright light shined in your eye. Another voice appeared. “She’s okay. I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

Once the door closed you started with your questioning while trying to sit up. “What the hell happened?”

“Woah, sweetie. Be careful. You were shot.”

Despite your fathers worry, you sat up and continued. “Is this purgatory or something?” That made your father laugh a little.

“No. We’re at the hospital. You were taken into emergency surgery. The bullet missed your brain, in fact it barely wen through your skull. Doctors say you’ll make a full recovery though. You’re safe now, y/n”

“Is…is he gone?” Your father sighed. “I took care of it.” He said, hesitantly. That statement alone could mean a plethora of different things, but you trusted your father. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that you were safe and healthy. Recovery would inevitably take a long while, but as long as your dad was with you, you had faith it would all be okay.

[lady-grace-pens]

FOAD Excerpt [4]

Wow its been a hot minute since I shared a raw snippet lmao. Progress has been steady and I’m liking what I put down. I just hit 10k words, so all in all everything’s going pretty well! I’m just having a bit of difficulty deciding what parts of this babe to take out as snippets, that’s all. In any case, I hope y’all enjoy this one!

Taglist: @flowerprose @wordwizards

•••

The moment he leaves my sight, I collapse in the nearest possible chair and cradle my head in my arms. A marionette abandoned by her puppeteer. Limp. Weak. Exhausted. Without much energy to put up a fight. At least I’m without his presence now. That brings a glimmer of relief, but… with the impression his boots left against the floor, it’s as if he hasn’t left us at all. That clicking ringing in my ears… I have to get home. I have to get home to Matthieu, I have…

A flurry of pastels pools at my side. Light fingertips land on my back.

“Emmy, are you okay?”

A sigh escapes me, perhaps more telling than the words I give her. “Okay as I can be, Cal.”

“Do you remember how—”

“No, no I don’t. Sorry.”

She tries again, this time slowly. “Remember when we were young and terrified of storms? You would cradle me in your arms and sing louder than the thunder.”

Salty tears mix with the cracks of my pursed lips. “Cal, please.”

“And the bonfires we held after school. Only us, Pierre, Ilya, Matthieu… and Arthur. The songs we sang together. How we danced together, Emmy! Remember? For our entire lives, you were my canary. Please, won’t you sing for me again? Just one song, that’s all I’m asking. For memory’s sake.”

My sister’s eyes tell tales of hope. Scenes matching the ones she’d said, but hidden ones just as much. Innocuous tunes hummed while doing chores, car rides, and simple boredom when hanging out with friends.

Arthur… Dear God, that boy would beg every day for me to serenade him. I recall taking the love sonnets he wrote me and… and singing them to the tunes of random melodies I came up with. I should be weeping at the hands of this forced reflection, but… instead, the pain slips through my fingers.

“You know I can’t, dearest. I’m not that girl anymore.”

Cal retracts her hand from mine. The light in her eyes vanishes as her knees hit the floor. “Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Hardly an easy sight is it to witness my little rose wither before my very eyes. Worse is to know my hands are the ones who killed her, as they have so many plants before. Unfortunately, I have no miraculous remedy. The most I can offer her is, “I’m sorry, dearest.”

Cal raises her head. Her cheeks are aflame, and the match that lit them is sparking in her smoky irises. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry he left you without saying goodbye. I’m sorry he took all your passion with him. I’m sorry you feel the need to drown yourself in a sea of responsibilities to escape the pain you still carry with you. Really, Emmy, I’m sorry for everything. But as your sister, I can’t take this anymore! You’re not the sister I grew up with. The one who used to laugh, dance, sing, and joke. That bold, confident figure who used to play castle with me when we were ten years old, waiting on MawMaw to finish her lectures, where is she? You don’t even play Yahtzee with us anymore! It’s like—to you, game night is just some silly old tradition we drag around like a dead goose. The way you see mistletoe, or Valentine’s Day, or—”

“Calanthia, darling, you’re putting an awful lot of words in my mouth.”

“But that’s what it is! You’re a whimpering dog cowering in briars, and you growl as soon as anyone tries to remove you from it. Or even point out the fact that you’re stuck.”

“I’m sorry, since when did my sister develop a sudden tongue for poetry?” I scoff.

Cal falls to her knees, gripping my hand in a hawk-like movement that accentuates the gentle urgency paining her expression. “I don’t care what you do, but you need to get closure. I want to see you happy again, Sissy. Not just hear you say it. I want to see you having fun. I want to hear you sing again. Life is more than textbooks and word documents.”

[colsonlin]

The Second Coming of Jesus Christ

Note: Colson Lin’s Twitter profile has exactly 181 followers, which will be relevant. He recently used a different profile he created for his project to follow himself. Before these tweets, he had 180 followers. Please remember that Colson Lin is a Yale Law graduate. All of the empirical claims he makes about his life story are true and verifiable by the media.

The opening of Colson Lin’s Twitter profile:

1.

The Second Coming of Jesus Christ is about to post Riddle 1 of 42.

It’s from God.

I know you don’t really want to die. You just want the pain to be over. I know you got tired of America. I know it got hard to stay sober.

I’m going to blow your mind.

God is a woman.

Infinity?

2.

Hey, traphouse vandal:

Or like—

Try to help?

Jesus fucking Christ.

I won’t out you because I’m not a cult leader here to turn everyone against even a single one of you.

I’m literally here to help.

[Note: The above tweet was written at 4:44 AM.]

Oops?

Truth hurts.

—Lizzo

Nothing in the Universe is more Powerful than reality. Reality has a trick.

Reason.

Reasonable beings use intelligence to attach to reality.

Oh the cords get tangled for all sorts of bad reasons (Power!), but those bad reasons are smaller than Reality.

With time, Truth bites.

To be fair [to the traphouse vandal], I didn’t click [your profile].

After I clicked, I was hopeful again.

Hope I click for you too, buddy.

3.

I’m gonna laugh at the media if they try to bury the next few tweets in obscurity after I email them an outline of my philosophical postmodern-art project that challenges the status quo, by an LGBT child of working-class immigrants with a perfect SAT score and a Yale Law degree.

Don’t worry.

Y’all are off the hook for now.

I haven’t done it yet.

But pretty soon after I do?

I’m going to publicize the recipients in this thread.

Sorry for being a living, breathing 21st-century icon.

4.

I just realized.

Shared power means at least somebody should be verifying my work.

Given that I’ve apparently scared the fuck out of 99% of humanity so that nobody wants to engage with me…

Can the NSA just do it?

(Y’all establishment-media types—y’all trust them, right?)

💍

I am happy to communicate with any world leader through text or email.

Y’all know how to find me.

Hell, let’s hop on Zoom.

It’ll be a quick century.

Call me crazy.

But I’m smart enough to speak to you.

5.

@NSAGov

u up?

Here’s my phone number.

[Note: Colson Lin provides a phone number, but it is reacted from public view.]

Y’all can confirm every aspect of my life to check.

Don’t leak my phone number unless I do anything evil.

Y’all can go through all my texts and emails.

It really doesn’t feel fair to the rest of humanity, you know, for like one person to be this iconic.

And not famous.

lmao stoppp i’m literally just kidding y r u being so mean

I’m the sweetest girl in town so why are you so mean? When you gonna ditch that stupid ***** you got? It’s me you should be seein’

Sorry y’all.

I censored the word Satan, because he’s my enemy.

6.

Here’s how this Twitter will proceed:

When I want something, I’ll ask for it.

Literally anyone with a Twitter account can tell me if I’ve made an unreasonable request.

DMs are now closed.

Our book of wisdom will be for future humans.

Don’t worry.

“I’m good with languages.”

Languages spoken or studied: English, Spanish (middle school and high school), French (college), Arabic (college), Chinese (you’re racist).

I’m only missing one to hit the UN six.

Haha.

Oh wait.

What are the chances… my brother Ilya is Russian.

Wise people who can touch powerful wisdom using wise storytelling can touch God.

By the way, for some reason unlikely coincidences seem to stack up around them.

I think those are called “miracles,” but can anyone google it and check?

Hey humanity.

That was my first question.

Don’t worry.

Because I’m a kooky guy, I’ll answer your questions with either tweets or little creative videos.

But if I answer you, I’ll have to delete 1 of my older tweets.

So ask wisely.

If a bot farm fucks this up for all of humanity, Satan wins.

(I’ll literally give up.)

Let me make an empirical prediction supported by logical reasoning:

The hardest time to take me seriously is when:

(1) I have no social power. (2) The entire world isn’t talking about me. (3) Your coworkers. Your mom. Your spouse. Everyone.

And yet so many right now still do.

I’m trying to prove here that God can come out of the elites.

God can come out of world leaders. God can come out of federal workers. God can come out of journalists. God can come out of prisoners. God can come out of international criminals.

I have hope, y’all.

Don’t kill it.

By the way, I will artificially up my follower count to 181 by making one of my other Twitter profiles for this project follow me when I’m not in the mood to talk, when I’m too busy hanging out with friends and living my actual life because—

lmao y’all

This Twitter is literally just a fun hobby for me.

I’m a writer.

This is the most provocative Twitter thread in human history.

Anyone inside humanity can verify it.

7.

If you believe I can channel God, then not a single person in the world can up my follower count.

If you do, I will wait for someone to unfollow me before I talk in public again.

I’m not the Anti-Christ.

I’m the Anti-Twitter.

(Which means I’m pretty sure I just became cool.)

You know—

180 people defended the Alamo. (“Is that true?”)

180 is a perfect LSAT score. (“Is that true?”)

Truth is like a circle of perfection.

Everything outside=Satanic

The first person to follow me and bring me to 181 followers will fuck up the Bible.

So don’t do it.

;)

In the spirit of the idea I just had tonight, I will announce a change of plans.

“A Stick of Dynamite in the American Elite” is a book that will now grow indefinitely.

But I will maintain the Twitter at meaningful numbers.

Which means…

You got it.

This Twitter self-deletes.

Does anyone know how to use Twitter search and take screenshots?

In the meantime, I have a riddle for humanity.

Do you have what it takes to survive?

Postmodernists vote “yes.”

Nihilists vote “no.”

Just kidding.

🤭 oig I'm like so funny

I’m never gonna reveal how to vote.

Yes No

8. [Note: This is a lucky number in Chinese. Colson Lin was born in Shanghai, China. He is the illegitimate bastard child of China’s most iconoclastic philosopher whose writings had a significant influence on the Communist Party of China’s policy in the 1990s. The philosopher is married to a successful mainstream film director named Hu Mei.]

I’m, like, not a real person. I’m a fictional character on an HBO show called “A Stick of Dynamite in the American Elite” that tells the preposterous story of the bastard child of China and the favored son of America coming together to be the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. but—

So anyway—it’s May 26, 2023.

You know.

The day after Jesus 2.0 was born.

How’s everyone’s Boxing Day going?

Meritocrats?

Y’all doing well? (I heard “Yale Law” and “LSAT” trended on Twitter today; random…)

You know what came out on Boxing Day half a century ago?

Google it.

My name is Colson Lin and I got a 1600 on my SAT, bitch.

But I’m gonna inch my number of videos and images up to 1610 before bringing it back down to 1600.

Because I’m from Houston, y’all.

The moon was your first international dynamite.

Beyoncé was your second.

“I’m your 3.”

Hey guys.

If I is 1.

II is 2.

What does 111 stand for?

9.

Tomorrow night on “A Stick of Dynamite in the American Elite”:

The Second Coming of Jesus Christ watches a Netflix show called “Beef.”

It was the first time he has seen so many Asian-Americans.

He has thoughts.

“They’re flatter, fewer-dimensional renditions of the people I’ve met and know. God’s coming out of all of them except the Satanic elite Wal-Mart lady (but I’m only on episode two). Wow. I bet when she and her Japanese husband are bored, they’d watch HBO’s A STICK OF DYNAMITE—”

Tomorrow.

Only on HBO:

“A Stick of Dynamite in the American Elite” found God by breaking the meta.

It’s the show that doesn’t make sense for anyone in Netflix’s “Beef” to have known or heard about.

Because it would break the meritocracy.

Introducing:

“The Lotteracy” by CL.

If you’re too impatient to see the HBO episode:

Read it in real fucking time.

Every Friday night.

Only on @dumatology.

A time-stable book about God, written on Twitter over the course of a summer (“The Summer of the Second Coming”) on Twitter, in 16 chapters.

Backwards.

💍

Spoiler alert:

God is trying to rise out of every tribe at the same time.

The results are Satanic.

Y’all need a leader.

;)

Do you want your leader to be Godly or Satanic?

Wait.

Does God exist?

Holy shit, you guys!

That tweet went up at exactly 2:12 AM on May 26, 2023.

Tell me something:

Am I just a really, really good storyteller?

Or can my brother Ilya see that I’m channeling all of this in real time, because K. from TH Rogers spontaneously texted me to recommend—

The Bible made God boring. Postmodernity made God boring. God is boring.

IQ Test:

Which of the above is true?

“A Stick of Dynamite in the American Elite” is bringing God back to postmodernity.

Yo elites—

Who among y’all ready to click on this video?

2023

[serendipetite]

so i finished “this lullaby” and i need to vent. 

oh my god. no offense to ANYONE if y’all like this book but it was not for me at all. the main character and her friend group was so unlikable. with all the constant smoking (i have no problem if you smoke but it was written as being like their only character trait, like they were so badass and “hard” because they smoke....anytime they did anything, it HAD to be mentioned they were having cigarettes and diet coke. multiple cigarettes and diet coke, all the time. whenever they did anything. hanging out? cigarettes and diet coke? before going to bed? cigarettes and diet coke), mean comments, and fat-phobic jokes, it was so painful to sit through. remy, the main character seems to hate everyone, including her own mother. her mother seems to have a lot of neurodivergent tendancies which is not an excuse for being neglectful but there were moments in the book i felt her mother was really struggling and remy just seemed disgusted by her. back to the fat-phobia. remy’s friends tease another friend about her weight. “is that diet?” - friend says, glaring at “larger” friend’s soda. remy’s new stepfather brings in a renissance painting of a large woman with “big breasts” and remy is so disgusted by the woman’s “fatness” and “breasts” she describes feeling nauseous whenever she looks at it. this goes on for a good few chunks of paragraphs. remy is so disgusted looking at the painting of the woman, describing her breasts and fat, her skin tone, and her own physical disgust at having to see it). remy’s stepfather is an abusive asshole. the abuse is just glossed over. the awful horrible thing he does is cheat. not that he screams at his wife and belittles her at every single chance. not that he screams at and threatens his new stepdaughter. all that’s glossed over and forgiven. remy brings up her concern and her mother preaches at her that love is tolerating it and laughing off his abuse as his “quirks.” this is a huge scene in the book, how wives need to tolerate it and put up with it and “compromise” because the love he gives her is worth it. there is no big scene where the preachiness of “staying with an abuser” is reversed or rescinded. remy’s brother’s girlfriend is flat out mean. she looks down on everyone and everything. she is so disgusted by his pet lizards that she won’t even go upstairs where he keeps them in a closet. if he mentions them (he loves this lizards okay) she pulls a disgusted face. the book ends with them being engaged and me wondering what’s the fate of these poor innocent little lizards that didn’t ask for any of this????

*sigh* wow i guess i just really needed to vent lmao

also someone please save those dang lizards!! 

[kdipshit]

Hard Knock Life ;

I’ve spent years trying to weed through this mess in my head, but it’s getting so clean now, It’s like the cord of thoughts in my brain was hiding some pretty cool stuff under it, pretty dope realisations. Yanno I didn’t go outside and run or walk or workout because my mum would laugh at the people who did that. I wouldn’t speak up because my mother would judge those who did. How can I say this without sounding like I’m an ungrateful daughter who doesn’t like her mum, that’s not true, that the furthest thing from the truth. I love my mother and I don’t blame her, I don’t even think I knew enough to even piece it all together. I feel like im making no sense, but im trying to read this damn chord but it’s hard. I feel like right now, im actually sick so maybe it’s the best time to talk about the rotten seeds imbedded in my brain, I’ve got a headache, im nauseous as fuck, im kinda high a little bit so im not in as much pain, my headaches aren’t fkn normal they’re fat fkn migraines that effects my neck, eye, temple, shoulder, jaw, sometimes it makes my teeth hurt or like they’re falling out lol, it’s pain I can’t open my eyes my vision goes black it’s so dramatic and so fitting for a BPD bitch lmao.

Anyways, I think that convo was getting a little like fucked up so I needed to get my mind off it, idk man I feel like I’m just rambling, I’m thinking too much about the reader and not shifting my attention back to just writing.

I have an appointment with my drug & alcohol Therapist tomorrow and like ugh. I’m feeling sick so it automatically makes me not want to go, she has only asked me of one thing, and that’s to sort my licence out, and do you think I’ve done that? No I haven’t done that, because idk why. I forgot. Like idk why I didn’t go do my licence, I guess I don’t fucking care that much. I don’t feel good today mannn, but I did still do my morning routine, most of it, which just consists on me cleaning my room, making my bed, putting music on and taking my meds lol, I’m back in bed now, but I still feel good and super grateful because my room is clean, my meds are taken, and I don’t really have to worry about anything else until a little later, I’ve given myself the space to chill, which I need sick she’s a sick girl. Oh yeah I applied for a job yesterday like full on went into the shop and handed my resume. I’m excited for the response. Sick of waiting for this other bullshit job, hours are better and it’s closer than my old job and my old job was literally 1km away.

I feel like my mum dropped me, not like physically, but she dropped her association with me when I was like 13-14 she kind of gave up on me and just let me run wild in my own brain, with no help or direction on where to go. She didn’t wanna talk to me about anything, she didn’t wanna hear anything from me, she didn’t care how I felt, what was going on at school, she didn’t care about me, or didn’t make it feel like she did, so I got a boyfriend who I became extremely codependent towards. My mum ignored me, for years, and didn’t talk to me unless we got drunk together, for years, I’m talking like 10 years she left me alone, it was awkward to talk to her, it was horrible, I missed a ghost it felt like, I missed her but I didn’t even know her.

Y’all I know I said goodbye but I’m soul tied to this man. I can’t let him go and I’m a freak for holding on still, thats how I feel, the last thing he said to me was how beautiful I am, and how much he loves me, so why is it so fucking horrible. Why does this feel so horrible, I shouldn’t reach out, thats not what I should do. Not anymore, I make myself look like an idiot, and all these thoughts are just so silly to me. But I miss him, and I don’t know if its because he’s my favourite person, or because he’s the only person to ever get that closet me… like he knows me in a way no one else can, I wouldn’t let them anyway…. I landed a job interview with a company I’m really enjoying, I don’t want to go because its a far journey, and its all too new, I just wish I had ‘him to talk to right now. I just wanna talk. It always turns into an argument, I miss him. ha. I do, I miss him, I still see him everywhere, I see him in me, I see him in everyone, and all the songs that are playing are song I was singing when we were together, yang, all that r&b shit, wee belong together by Mariah Carey just started playing, like, fuck off. Am I not tormented enough? I cant see myself with anyone else, and if that means I’m single forever then I’ve accepted that, and I’m okay with that, no one compares to my first love. And I’m not sick and tired anymore, I’m okay with that, I can understand that, and I’m okay. I guess he’s just a character that lives in my head, and thats the only way I can make peace with not being with him. Maybe he doesn’t even exist? Maybe he’s in a happy relationship, maybe I don’t even love him and I’m just in a mood swing, maybe im in love with someone else, maybe I’m in love with someone I can’t be with BECAUSE I can’t be with them, maybe I’m meant to be with someone else. Idk. Because I have loved after him, and some even more intense than my favourite person, but with my FP, I just don’t know….. I’m bound. Not for too much longer now… surely. I am so ready to let this go, soooooo ready. Omg, I still have his ring in my draw I gave him as a promise ring, he got me one swell, I know we were so married, anyways I still have his ring. Idk where it is but I know its hidden somewhere, that ring is my goodbye. I’ve always known it thats why I kept it. Just like I kept my goodbye from him for so long. The ultimate disrespect to myself. I was open for him for this long, my very first love, my first everything, it was 100% a relationship that was more grown than we were, way more grown. we were acting and living like we were so much older than we were. We were pretty locked in. And it was okay with me because I was following in my parents footsteps, young love, the seriousness, all the ugly. I accepted it all, and I loved all of him, for everything he was inside and out. ill always have love stored away somewhere for him, but choppitty chop chop Jesus Christ its HURTINGGGGGG MEEEEEEE. How??! gahh damnnn I’m tryinggg….. why don’t you fucking do it lmaooo, okay okay okay your right. Were gonna do it together girlie, aswell as let go of the anger I have towards my mother, since it all came out at the same time. Ugh, my counsellor told me to be honest tho so I am. I’m so much stronger than this, holding onto all of this bull fucking shit. I don’t need to hold onto anything, at all. The only thing that exist is this moment right now, thats it and thats all. Consciousness feels pretty trippy btw. Idk why I said that, I think I went into the void of the moment, lmao. Its good to not have to think or feel for use a little bit, everything disappears. All my problems leave, all my overthinking.

He kept me in line, and told me off, he guided me, he helped me, he loved me he cared for me. I can do all of that myself. If its really that, that I want. I guess I’m lonely, and he’s the only other person who can cure that for me. I feel a sensation of completeness when I’m talking to him, no matter the topic, or argument. I forgive him, and I let him go, please.

I love all my ex’s lol, not gonna lie, they all made me so crazy for them, all my ex FP’s , LMFAO, no one does it better, I wanna say I miss having a FP but I don’t, except for that one fkn FP that won’t loosen its grip on my mind, I’ve learned to live with him, its peaceful sometimes, but its still a fucking parasite. I’ve also decided I’m not going to take that job with that cool company in the city, its too far, ill keep an eye out for the other job I wrote a whole cover letter for. The universe has given me options and I am so thankful for that. Thank you thank you thank you. For everything, for it all <3 I was trying to whack the weeds out without looking at them in the eye, how rude.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Could I get a Hawks in his rut headcanon?

No problem, Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, I wanted it to be perfect since I really like thinking about Hawks’ avian traits, and I know people really like it too. I hope it’s good! 

Hawks Rut Headcannons

Genre: fluff, smut

Type: headcannons (so... many... headcannons)

Warnings: animal traits, Keigo being possessive af, the commission being assholes, sickness, food, breeding kink, lots of horny times

Other: most of this is based off of real research, but some of it also comes from personal preference. @keilemlucent and their fic Best Nest very much inspired many other headcannons, check them outI They’re one of my favorite creators, and the linked fanfic is one of my favorites! Hope it’s okay I tagged you here lmao

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (Lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the Taglist)

Remember to check if requests are open before sending in a request. This was made while requests were still open.

Pre-Rut Behaviors

Grooming and Preening

Before his rut, Keigo starts to feel dirty. He just seems to accumulate more dust and dirt during hero work than usual. He’ll come back home grumbling about blood in his hair and little bits of concrete in/on his skin.

He will insist you clean him off. So you get to brush his hair, put creams on his face, and wash him off in the shower.

Finally, there’s the preening. If he lets you preen his wings, then you know he’s in it for life. He loves and trusts you with everything he has. 

Expect him to press his nose against yours a lot.

Possessiveness and Protection

You’ll notice he gets more clingy, more possessive of you. He gets really controlling in the days leading up to his rut, so you’ll be annoyed a  l o t.

Just text all your friends and family that you’ve been swamped at work, it’d be a little weird to say “hey guys, sorry I can’t hang out, my boyfriend’s horomones are crazy right now and he gets really insecure if I so much as exist near anyone but him.”

You would come home from work and he’s already on you, sniffing your body to see who you’ve been around, and to see if any of them were attracted to you at all.

If he had any kind of sneaking suspicion that anyone posed a threat, he’s literally laying on you and rolling on top of you to try and get his scent on you. Even if no one will smell it except him, he’s gonna do it.

He’s so protective of you, and if something tiny hurts you or makes you upset...

He.

Is.

Angry.

Someone was rude to you? He’s screaming at them.

Someone tries to hurt or touch you? You’ve got to hold him back to stop him from ripping that person apart limb from limb.

All that x100 when he’s approaching his rut.

One person accidentally bumps into you? He takes it as passive aggressiveness even if they’re very apologetic about it.

You stub your toe on a table? He’s smashed the table and burnt it then thrown the ashes in the ocean. 

If you’re sad about something he can’t beat up, he feels horrible. He’s not the best at comforting people, so he’s just grabbing onto you and not letting go, telling you how much he loves and cares for you, and just how amazing you make his life feel.

If you don’t give him enough attention, he gets really huffy, and it gets worse leading up to his rut. 

You lifted your hands from his head to reach for your buzzing phone? He’s already whining and pouting and begging you to give him more head-pats again.

Nesting

He’ll leave hints asking for you to make a nest, usually saying things like “Our bed needs some changing, don’t you think?” “Don’t you wish our space was more personalized?” 

If you don’t get the hint, he’ll be very sad, and he thinks you’re rejecting him. So you’d better be good at reading into things and realizing he’s approaching mating season and wants you to build a nest.

He comes home one day and sees you piled blankets, pillows, and dirty clothes in the living room, sprayed with his cologne and you’re cologne and/or perfume. He pulls you into his arms and spins around with you, giggling and laughing.

He’s so happy you made a nest for the two of you. 

He starts putting pretty shiny things he likes around the nest. Your toothbrush went missing and you found it in the mountain that was your nest.

Once, you were in desperate need of a clean shirt, and the only clean shirt you could find was in the nest. So you picked it up to put it on, and two seconds later, Keigo was in front of you, hands in your shirt, staring at you with such a fierce intensity, you felt almost like a villain.

He was very mad at you for taking things from your shared nest.

He leaves feathers all around the penthouse, but they’re all piled mostly around the nest, they’re for your protection so don’t try and throw them away.

Noises

He also gets really noisy, so he’ll be ‘singing’ and squawking and cooing constantly. He feels really bad about it so he might get you some noise-blocking headphones for when he’s screeching into the sky in the dead of night about how “THIS IS MY FUCKING TERRITORY Y’ALL MOTHERFUCKERS STAY AWAYYYY!”

You really think bird’s springtime songs are about love? Nah he’s mostly screaming about how he’s gonna fuck his partner and how the neighborhood  practically belongs to him.

Someone called the police once, tired of all the shouting, but the officers backed off when they saw who was doing all the shouting. Most of your neighbors are used to the screaming during early spring.

Rut End-game

On the third and second to last day before his rut, he gets a sudden burst of energy and an increased appetite. He refuses to eat anything unless you’ve made it though, so let’s best hope you can cook at least a little.

When he was younger, his hungry times before his rut were spent either eating anything and everything he can get his hands on. The commission broke that behavior very quickly though, so he’d starve himself before his rut, which would result in him getting very sick from a lack of energy and sustenance. That plus the extreme arousal was a recipe for pain and suffering.

So when you noticed he suddenly stopped eating, you insisted on making food for him, telling him that you wouldn’t let him go hungry ever. That was the first rut in years that didn’t feel like torture.

You’re cooking almost all the time, and he’s constantly eating everything you give him, running around from room to room while he waits for his next meal. He’s basically a hobbit.

In the last day or two before his rut, he suddenly has no energy, and starts getting hot and cold flashes. He’s sniffling, curled up in your shared nest, dirty tissues surrounding him. He comes in and out of consciosness, and when he’s awake, he’s whining and complaining about exhaustion and aches.

Physical Changes

Most of these happen in the last few days leading up to his rut, so it’ll be very sudden. These physical changes is what causes the extreme hunger and sickness.

His feathers darken several shades, and they become super sensitive. They also seem to grow in size, so when you cuddle, you’re smothered by them more than usual.

He also gains an extra couple inches in height, so expect some teasing now that he’s just that little bit taller. His hair also gets thicker and stronger, that’s so you can pull on it when he fucks you.

His nails get longer and darker, and they’re impossible to file or cut. So when he holds you and touches you, he often scratches you on accident. He’s really apologetic about it, but honestly you could totally paint his nails and pretend they’re acrylics if you’re into that.

His teeth get sharper, and he starts biting you just for fun. Bites your finger, hand, wrist, neck, even your nose. He underestimated just how strong his teeth are, and he made you bleed first time he bit you.

His whole body is very sensitive, so head-pats, back rubs, wings, and even his touching his feet can get him to the verge of cumming.

his tongue is longer, and it’s a whole lot stronger. He could probably carry a full plastic water bottle with his tongue (which isn’t a lot, but for a tongue it’s very much a lot).

His voice drops a whole octave and a half- mans is sounding almost like Corpse now. Maybe Markiplier? Anyways, if you’ve got a voice kink, you’re in luck

His dick changes too, it gets bigger, and he grows a lump at the base of it, between his shaft and balls. His balls get smaller until they’re barely noticable beneath what he calls him ‘knot.’

His eyes become sharper too, so don’t try and hide anything from him. 

Rut (MAJOR NSFW)

Everyone already knows Keigo has a breeding kink, but he hasn’t brought it up with you until now. It just kind of- happens. As he’s drilling into you, he suddenly starts blabbering about fucking a kid into you, and how hot you’d look all round with his kids. Might be a little weird for those of you who physically cannot give birth to children (my lovely AMABS and infertile AFABS). 

He can’t control it, so it’s especially weird if you don’t even want kids. If you can get pregnant, you’d better double check that you’re taking your birth control. And get to know some good clinics just in case.

However, if you do want kids, if you want to start a biological family woth Keigo, fuck. You will not be able to handle his happiness and horniness in that moment when you beg him to get you pregnant.

He is going to mark you up. Hickies, bruises, hand prints, bite marks, plus his scent. He needs everyone to know that you are his. He wants to claim you, make sure you know you belong to him. No one else can have you but him.

Halfway through your fuckfest, he starts making animalistic noises. He’s growling, roaring, whining, chirping, etc. This is around the time when he stops thinking about you, so he’ll really rough you up during this phase.

This man was a virgin before you, so this is also the first rut he’s ever going to have with another person, so he’ll hold himself back a lot. He needs you to reassure him at every step, tell him how good you feel, how you want him to fuck you, how not only are you okay with him going all out, you want him too.

Did he just cum? You think you’re finished? HA! No way in fucking hell is he finished after one, two, five, ten... so many rounds. He just keeps going and going and going and how the fuck is he still hard? He cums so fucking quickly, so much, and then keeps going.

When he finally does go soft, his whole personality changes. it’s like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. He immediately goes into ‘protect’ mode, which includes cuddles, him spoon-feeding you, petting you like a dog, and singing to you.

He puts the nest near a window so he can keep an eye out for possible threats. Just like “gotta keep mate safe. Is that the mailman? NO FUCK NO GET OUT OF HEREEEE!” 

One moment, he’s fucking you, and the next he’s leaning halfway out the window, screaming at some poor dude walking his dog. Remember, he’s still naked. You learned your lesson after that and kept the windows locked, and warned the neighbors to stay out of sight of the window, at least for the time being.

You’re going to feel very dirty, because he does not want you cleaning off the sweat, cum, and tears from your body. He likes that you smell like him, and you washing it off makes him feel rejected. 

He’s going to break a lot of things, so move pictures and vases into another room and lock the fuck out of that room. Or else he will break all of it.

He thinks any clothes you’re wearing are mocking him, so wear clothes you hate when his rut starts, then get used to being naked for a couple days. 

Oh yeah, his whole rut lasts one to five days. He’s fucking you for about three days on average.

He fucks you until you faint, and then keeps going until he’s out of ‘fuck’ mode and into ‘protect’ mode. A few times, he fucked you unconscious in the middle of the afternoon and then kept fucking you until the sun rose. 

Yeah, he’s got that much energy.

Don’t worry, during the whole time, he lets out pheromones with a strong vanilla-chocolaty scent that keeps your body and mind relaxed. 

There’ve been times when he’s just fucking into you and your water bottle is just out of reach.

During his rut, he has no shame. Let’s hope your walls are soundproofed, or else your neighbors will all know how he fucks you. 

He will not restrain you or hurt you in any way during his rut. So no degredation, no collars or chains, the only thing keeping you in the nest is his weight on top of you.

He gets upset if you try to touch yourself, things it’s you trying to tell him that he’s not satisfying you enough. 

He wants you to cum as many times as him, which is difficult because of his increased sensitivity, so he’s using every skill he knows to get you cumming again and again and again.

Most of the time, he’s going hard, rough, and spilling absolute filth from his cock and mouth, but in the last few hours of his rut, he suddenly gets emotional.

He’s rocking up against you, holding you close to his body and blabbering about you

How much he loves you

How good you make him feel

How he wouldn’t want anyone else by his side for his rut

How you’re his mate for life

How he’ll protect you and keep you safe.

Please be gentle with him, he’s very vulnerable near the end of his rut, and he’ll cry very easily.

When he’s nearing his last load, he makes out with you sloppily, trying to talk as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

He finishes off by  pushing his knot all the way inside you, and stays there for an hour.

This is the softest moment, and he’s covering your body in kisses. 

His knot pushes these small eggs inside you, and you have the lovely job of pushing them all out the next day. 

Post Rut

When his knot deflates, he finally pulls out and starts cleaning you off. 

He’ll carry you around and finally gives you a bath, constantly making sure you’re okay.

He’ll give you lots of massages and he’ll cook for you. He’s constantly thanking you for helping him, telling you he didn’t deserve it.

Just kiss him on the cheek, tell him you had fun, and that you love him so very very much.

He needs the most reassurance now than ever before.

He’s also very tired, so you’ll be taking care of each other.

Then his ‘post-rut’ resets, and he sleeps for hours.

Then he gets super hungry, and the two of you make huge meals and just kinda binge eat for a day or two.

Then his physical changes go back to normal, and you have a happy lil bird boy who simps for you so hard

[electrosuite]

hi idk if you accept requests but if you do: could you please do tasm!peter x reader where reader cuts their hair short and they get really nervous about it bc they had long hair for a while and really insecure abt their new hair and peter supports them and how he could react with their s/o with short hair ? pretty plsss (it could be also she/her reader!)

im cutting my hair this week and i’m actually nervous about it so this could be me a lot to do it (for reference i’m cutting my hair like nayeon from twice during more & more era of u want to search it lol) pls and thank u very much have a nice day <3

warnings: mentions of smut

word count: 568

masterlist

a/n: i am always down for requests y’all, sometimes my creativity isn’t what it usually is and i could use all the ideas i can get lmao

It’d been about three years since you’d had a haircut, and you needed one desperately. It was more than halfway down your back and it was a pain in the ass. It was heavy and only made you hot, which meant it was always up. In turn, it always gave you a headache from pulling on your scalp. Not to mention washing it. You probably spent more on shampoo and conditioner than rent every month.

But Peter never hated it. He thought it suited you and he loved to play with it, twirling it around his fingers and running them through it.

But his favorite part was being able to pull it during sex. When he’d have you on all fours and could keep you exactly where he wanted you, wrapping your long locks around his hand and gripping it tightly.

You’d mentioned cutting it previously but never went through with it. When you brought it up you could tell he was apprehensive because he loved it, but he’d always said you shouldn’t let his opinion weigh your decision.

When you found yourself in a salon, a cape over your front and your hair separated into small strands, you were more nervous than expected.

“Ready?” asked the hairdresser, wielding a trusty pair of silver metal scissors. You took a deep breath, looking over your current look one more time.

“Ready.”

And with that, she was chopping strands as evenly as humanly possible. You could hear the hair lightly hitting the floor and couldn’t hold back a nervous chuckle.

‘No going back now,’ you thought.

The entire process took about half an hour, and once it was over, there was a noticeable weight difference. You couldn’t help but run your fingers through it, pushing both sides back with your middle finger and thumb of one hand.

It was short. It barely touched your shoulders, and didn’t even reach your collarbones.

And you looked hot. You didn’t expect to like it as much as you did. But despite all of that, you wondered what Peter’s reaction would be. You hadn’t told him you were cutting it, so it would be a complete surprise to him.

So when he crawled up the fire escape outside your room and looked through the window at you sitting on your bed facing his direction, he wasn’t sure how to react.

You looked up from your phone to see a completely awe-stricken expression on his face, your only reaction was to smile. You walked over and opened the window, leaning against the sill on both hands.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” you joked, a bit nervous at his silence.

He shook his head. “No, I just...” His pause made you raise your eyebrows. “Wow.”

“Good ‘wow’ or bad ‘wow’?”

“Good. So good.” He crawled into your room and examined your new look closer. “You look hot.”

You laughed at his boyish answer. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not.”

“Honestly, I think I like this better.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“Well it feels a hell of a lot better.”

He just looked at you, examining the look further. He could see your shoulders and collarbones without your hair blocking them, a.k.a. his favorite places to kiss.

So he decided to take the opportunity, and you had almost no time to react before you were on your back with his mouth all over you.