#but most of them lay somewhere in that middle ground

[plagiarised-passion]

If you’re gonna come into BSD and start labelling characters as “good” and “bad” willy nilly, I need you to take a step back and think reaaaallll hard about why you think those things

[coryosbaby]

Down & Dirty

Fandom: “Outer Banks”

Pairing: mean! Rafe Cameron x fem! Pogue! Bimbo! Reader

Cw: dark themes— dubcon, angst, manipulation, nsfw . Gunplay, dumbification, mud scene, codependency, subspace, anal, breeding, daddy kink, extreme domination, size kink, predator/prey dynamics

A/N: bro I was fuckin FERAL writing this .

Fear courses through you as Rafe Cameron’s hand covers your mouth and he drags you away towards his truck. You knew it was a bad idea to come here by yourself, but you went against your better judgement.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” He calmly but scarily murmurs as you struggle. His bottom lip peeks out and his eyes are almost vacant.

You’ve always known that Rafe is somewhat of a bad person, given the torment he had always given you being Sarah’s best friend— but now, with his grip tight and mean, gun barrel pointing at your skull, you know now that something has shifted inside him — something dark and unforgiving. The hands that had once been soft on your skin, the eyes and body that had comforted you once or twice, regardless of Rafe’s violent tendencies with your pogue friends, we’re now aiming to end your life .

“Rafe, please…” You plead with him, as he yanks you by your hair.

“Rafe, please,” he mocks. “Jesus, you’re fucking pathetic. You’re lucky that I haven’t put a bullet in that pretty fucking skull yet.”

Tears well in your eyes and you kick him in his groin. It makes him groan, and he drops his grip from you. You run away from him, at a certain point having to stop and take your favorite pair of heels off. You were incredibly stupid to wear them here.

Rafe catches up to you quick. He tackles you, and with a loud sloshing sound you both land in the mud on the ground. He wrestles you down until his hands are around your neck. You gasp, trying to run away again, trying to get away from this guy you had once recognized as a form of comfort for you, but to no avail.

“You fucking bitch.” The gun has been lost somewhere beside the both of you, but that doesn’t make the boy any less threatening. “I never wanted to hurt you! You did this to your self- stop fucking squirming!”

You sob as his hands loosen a bit on you. He looks down at your supple chest, your bra now peeking out of your tank top from all of the movement.

“Even now you’re dressed like a fucking slut,” he growls. Your brows furrow. You’ve been avoiding eye contact with him, but now you meet his once again. He looks like a predator about to catch its prey.

He looks angelic, almost… a fallen angel. You breathe out, and with enough strength to pull forward, you kiss him.

You don’t know why you do it— sex is the thing that most men want from you, so maybe that’s why. As a way to plead for your life.

His tongue finds its way into your mouth for a moment, his teeth clacking against yours, but as if pulled out of a trance he rips himself away from you. Mud cakes his face and arms as he gets up to his feet.

You let out a tiny whine as he looks down at you, from frustration or fear you don’t know. Probably both. You flimsily move up on your knees, doe eyes looking up at him with a begging expression.

Rafe’s eyes dart to the other side of you, and he catches sight of the loaded gun laying in a heap on the ground. He grabs it and shoves the barrel against your skull. With one hand he wraps it around your neck and pulls you closer to him.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He says with a disgusted tone.

You don’t say anything, just let out a little whimper. He catches sight of your tank top again— and a small smirk glazes his features.

He grabs the strings of it and rips the flimsy thing right down the middle. When it settles in what’s about to happen, a wet spot forms in your panties.

You might die right now, covered in mud and grass, but you’re fucking horny.

“I should kill you right now,” he whispers heavily against your ear. “But that’s not what you want, is it? You want me to fuck you, right here on the dirty fucking ground. Don’t you?”

You nod your head, desperate. For what, you don’t know.

He smiles, demented. And he moves the gun down to your mouth. “Just a dirty little pogue that wants to get filled with dick, right?”

“Yes… yes, sir.” You mumble. Your tongue lolls out to lick at the gun barrel. “I wan’ it..”

And that’s all the confirmation Rafe needs. He places the gun in the back of his waistband and begins to undo his belt.

“Of course you do,” he rambles. “That’s all you’ve ever fuckin’ wanted was to get dicked down by me. I always saw the way you looked at me, y’know.”

You move closer to him when he pulls his lengthy cock out of his pants. It’s heavy, thick and long, circumcised, with precum coating the tip. A vein runs down one side of it, almost throbbing.

You reach out and lick the tip of him. He tastes absolutely divine.

“‘S so pretty..” you whisper. You drag your face along it, just to feel the warm skin and lick it all up.

Rafe, bored, grabs your face and positions his cock in front of your mouth.

“Open that fucking mouth as wide as it can go.”

You obey, mouth opening to take him; he shoves his cock in as deep as it can go. He reached behind him to his waistband and the gun is back in one of his hands again. He shoves it against your head for a third time. He groans when you gag around his fat prick, and your body naturally moves forward in between his legs. Rafe takes notice and is quick to wrap his thighs around each side of your head, making sure to squeeze. It’s too much pressure on your head, and you try to move away. But Rafe slaps both sides of your blushing face and thrusts so hard that you gag.

“Don’t fucking move. You move, I’ll fuckin’ shoot you. Do you understand me?”

You can’t nod, but you cry out around him. He holds the top of your hair with his fingers and keeps you down until you can’t breathe.

But seriously, you can’t breathe— your vision goes blurry and you’re almost close to passing out. You’re too dazed to care, But thankfully Rafe doesn’t want to kill you just yet. He forces your head away. You gasp, choking and sputtering, trying to get more oxygen back into your now sore throat. He’s back on you in an instant, though, and he’s leaking so much precum and you’re drooling so much that it’s dripping out of the sides of your mouth. His balls slap against your chin; your nose presses into his pubic hair, and he smells so delicious that you almost start rutting into the filthy ground.

He pulls you off of him when he’s about to cum. You get thrown to the ground, your head hitting the soft mud and caking your face. Rafe discards the gun again, gets down on his knees behind you, and rips your skirt and underwear down your legs vigorously. Your puffy cunt is revealed to him. He tsks, running a finger through your folds.

“So wet. And shit—“ he pulls your cheeks apart, exposing your juicy pussy and tight asshole to the warm air. You clench around nothing as he spits down in between your ass cheeks. “All your little holes are so tiny. Fuck, this is gonna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Please..” you whimper, pushing your body back against him on your hands and knees. “Need daddy’s big cock. Need it ‘s bad.”

The fact that you’re talking in third person like this should be a bit concerning. Your mind is so far gone. But Rafe doesn’t care about that— all he cares about is ripping your sloppy cunt open.

“I know you do.” He states. His tongue goes down to your asshole. He runs it along that place there, and down to the place in between your ass and pussy. His thumb moves around and lightly massages your clit. It’s the first kind of stimulation he’s given you and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” He mutters. “Maybank ever do this to you?”

He’s referring to JJ; he has, although you don’t want to admit that to him. Rafe isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked, the first guy to finger your pussy. But he’s by far the best.

“S-Sometimes..”

It comes out low, and his fingers stop.

“Yeah? You slut yourself out to all those dirty pogues?”

When you don’t answer, his hand comes down on the fat of your ass. You sob.

“No! N-No, just JJ, I swear!”

He reaches around and slaps your pussy. It hurts, and Rafe thinks that you let out a sound like a pained little bunny. The nickname makes so much sense to him, and he’s angry as he lines himself up to your puffy entrance.

“You’re never gonna see him again.” He states. His tip sinks into you. The stretch stings, fucking hurts so bad. You’ve sucked cock but you’ve never had one inside your cunt. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine. You dumb fucking bunny.”

And he pushes himself in, in, in, and you’ve never felt so full, so dirty, so claimed. He pushes past that thin little wall inside you, pops your cherry with his cock’s mushroomed head. When it breaks through blood coats his length; he knows because he begins to move quick after that, sees the red coated on his dick. You’re so tight and sweet and fuck— Rafe doesn’t think he can kill you anymore. He needs to be inside you forever.

“Mine.” He growls. “All mine.”

You’re laying there, having no choice but to take it. The pain feels good. Rafe grabs your wrists and pins them behind your back as he begins to pound you right there in the dirt.

Little ah ah ahs leave you as his balls slap against your clit. He shoves one of his fingers into your mouth. You can taste the grittiness of dirt and under that, his natural taste— mixed with the taste of hand soap, almost. Probably the one that sits back in the Cameron household’s second bathroom, on the counter. Or maybe it’s the body wash that he so often washes himself with; you know this because you use it sometimes. You like the way the boy smells.

“Little pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” He groans. “Best pussy daddy’s ever had baby, fuck.”

He’s almost a whimpering mess himself. He’s not gonna last long because of your cunt— and he intends to make the most of it.

He grabs you by your throat, has bent backwards against him as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. It’s hungry, it’s crazy, the whole situation is. But you’re both at each other like fucking animals.

“Whose pussy is this?” He demands. You lick at his bottom lip, clench around him just right.

“Yours! ‘S all yours, daddy!”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He huffs, then he thumbs your asshole and watches as you suck him in. “Gonna fuck this tight little ass after this. Gonna take you home and take you right there on my fuckin’ staircase.”

You mewl, and you can tell that he’s close. You reach around to try and rub your own clit, but Rafe slaps your hand away. He turns you over on your back. You can see him a lot better this way, and he looks like a fucking God, pounding you so good like this. He pushes your legs over your head and slides back inside your gummy walls. He buries his face in your neck and his fingers move down to your clit. When he rubs you, it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming on him with a scream. Your cunt tightening around him makes him let out a growl, and you beg him for his load.

“Please, Rafey,” you whine out. “Please cum inside me. I need your cum in my tight little pussy.. wanna be a mommy, wanna have your baby, please please please—“

He lets out an animalistic shout, and his cock squirts warm, white cream right against your cervix. He pounds you even more at the force of his orgasm. When he comes down, he slows and breathes in your scent. The sweet strawberry perfume you wear is right against his nostrils. He pulls out of you, slow. He spreads your pussy lips apart and watches his seed drip out of your gaping pussy.

“Good girl..” he coos, oddly sweet. “Daddy’s good little cocksleeve..”

Your mind is hazy, and even here in the woods you grab his hands and grab him to pull him closer to you. He pushes you away, however, and grumbles, “Don’t. Cmon, get up.”

You comply, on shaky legs. He picks up your tank top, slips it over your head. Your skirt is practically in shreds, so he just puts your panties back on. You’re too fucked out to even care that he’s dragging you to his truck, half naked, cum dripping down your legs. You don’t care.

The ride to the Cameron residence is quiet. Rafe threw the gun in the console when he got in. You fall asleep halfway there, and he turns the radio on softly.

He looks over at you. Caked in dirt, cheeks red, scratches all over your thighs. You must’ve got them from the twigs in the mud.

Something tugs at his chest. He blames it on the adrenaline.

The house is empty; Wheezie, Rafe had sent off to a friend’s. Sarah, running around with the pogues, probably trying to find you. Rose, god knows where. His dad, dead. He does what he said he would do. He sits himself down on the staircase, pulls out his cock, already hard from the way your thighs are wet. He positions you on top of him as you look down at him tiredly. You want to be good for him, though, and let him stretch your ass out on his fingers. Afterwards you move your panties to the side, grab his cock and slide it inside your heat. You bounce on him, mouth agape as you look into his eyes. There seems to be more emotion in them now. He’s calmed.

He digs his fingernails into your hips, and he grunts when your lips find his neck and you suck a bruise onto it. He spills inside you for a second time, and then he makes you go upstairs with him. He pulls you into his bathroom, the one connected to his room, that you’ve never been in. He takes off the both of your clothes and starts a warm shower. He pulls you inside of it, takes a rag and begins scrubbing the both of you down. You lean against him as he does so, leaving kisses against his now bare chest. His fingers come down to your pussy and make you cum again, an oddly selfless act preformed by the boy. A reward because you were good, maybe? He turns the water off when you’re both squeaky clean. You don’t let him out of your grasp until he gets out of the shower and you follow him. He grabs a towel and dries your used body off with it, and then grabs another and does the same for himself. He guides you to his bed, and you crawl into it.

Your mind is still a mess. You feel alight, like you’ve been touched by god himself. But Rafe’s distance from you when he sits beside you makes you frown. It saddens you so much even, that tears well in your eyes again. Rafe can see the tears coming down your face.

“Jesus, are you fucking crying right now?”

Silence, and then a small sniffle. He scoffs.

“Need me to fuckin’ coddle you, or somethin’?”

You don’t say anything, but you do want that— you don’t know why. He had just taken you in the literal fucking mud, like a disgusting fucking animal. But his warm embrace sounds like something that can ease the headache forming in your skull.

Rafe must sense this. Because he groans, and lays himself down in the spot beside you.

“Come here.” He demands, harshly. You turn over, surprised at his words, but comply regardless. You bring your arms up around his neck and nestle in the space between his arm and torso; it’s comfortable there, it’s warm and soft. You like it. Maybe you’re losing your fucking mind.

You feel the need to thank him for his generosity— you still haven’t gotten out of that space he had forcefully thrown you into— and you need him to be proud of you, almost.

“Rafe—” you say, voice a bit hoarse.

“Did I say you could talk?”

“No..” you murmur. “‘m sorry.”

“Better be.”

He pulls the comforter over the both of you. He remembers the gold, the entire reason why this had occurred in the first place. But it can wait. Exhaustion overtakes him. After a moment a small sigh emits from him and his thumbs rub soft circles against your shoulder.

And soft, almost like an angels wings, he kisses your head with plush lips.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[scuderiahoney]

congrats on 1k lovely!!! your writing just feels so grounded but romantic and it's just such a great combination :) could we get soft prompt "linking arms when walking around together" or "reaching out for the others hand just to hold it" with either charles or lando?? like they always tell each other they are just "friends" and never establish anything further but the reader is just a touchy kind of person with their friends and charles or lando just let them attach themselves to them :3 can't wait for ur next work!!

hi i’m sorry this is so late but i finally wrote it omg!! thank you!!

You’ve always been a touchy person. People have been teasing you about it your whole life. Your friends call you clingy affectionately, your exes have called you suffocating, and others fall somewhere in the middle. You can’t help it, really- when you care about someone, you want to touch them. It makes you feel grounded and safe.

Charles has never seemed to mind. He’s one of a few who never comments on it, never teases you for it, and really, of everyone, he might have the most right to. He’s gone so often throughout the year that when you do get to be around him, you stay glued to his side. You hold his hand at parties, lean against him on couches in living rooms, and hook your arm through his when you take walks together.

He never complains, never even laughs in response. He just squeezes your hand, leans back against you, and tugs your elbow with his to pull you close. It’s no surprise he’s the one you feel most comfortable around, and that maybe you’ve developed a bit of a crush on him.

But you know how these things end. Eventually, he’ll tire of your touchiness. He’ll start to pull away first, start to avoid sitting next to you. It always happens, with everyone you’ve ever wanted to be close with. You know it must be exhausting, keeping up with you.

When he comes home to Monaco for the winter break, you try to tone it down. Your friend had made a comment the weekend before, about how nobody would be able to pry you away from him when he got back, and you’d gone red at the extended teasing from your friends. Maybe they were right. Maybe you should try to be a bit more normal with him. You don’t want to scare him away.

Things are fine for the first few weeks of the break. He’s the same as always, more relaxed in the off season and happy to be home with friends and family. You still spend plenty of time with him, but you try not to hug him for so long, and try to keep a bit more distance. It’s for the best, as much as your chest aches.

Then you’re at his apartment, late after everyone else has left, nursing the last sips of your drink. You’re sitting on the floor, and Charles is laying on the couch behind you. He sets his empty drink down on the table and clears his throat. You tear your eyes away from the movie on the TV and turn to him expectantly.

“You’re being weird,” he says, quietly, almost sounding hurt.

You blink at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

“Normally, you are so…” he huffs, waving his hands around. “You hold my hand, or sit next to me, or- you are-“

“Clingy,” you fill in.

He blinks, then frowns. “No. Clingy is… no. You are just usually closer. You’re far away now.”

You shake your head. “I’m right here.”

Charles huffs, and then he sits up and hooks both of his hands under your arms and pulls. You let out a squeak as he lifts you up onto the couch easily, tucking you into the space between him and the back of it, slotted right against his side. Then he wraps his arms around your middle, as if to say, stay here. You swallow down the tears that threaten to spring up in your eyes.

“Now you are right here,” he says. He brushes a kiss against your hairline and sighs happily. “I have been missing this.”

You shrug, voice quiet when you say, “everyone is always teasing me for being clingy. I was worried I was annoying you.”

He shakes his head against yours, and one of his hands squeezes your hip. “No. I like having you close.”

That brings on a fresh wave of tears. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just rubs his hand against your side as he holds you there, and you melt into the warmth of him. Close. You like it, too.

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[clu-ven]

Uh oh... there's only one bed! The Bad Batch Edition

word count: 2.1k - tw: mention of nightmares

After getting ambushed by some bounty hunters, what started off as a simple job quickly became a shootout. Luckily, no one got hurt but thanks to a few explosions and blaster fire from almost every direction, the Batch got split up. 

Thankfully the bounty hunters retreated after the initial shootout, jumping on their speeders and fleeing. Although this makes things a bit easier, you’re still separated, with most of the Batch already regrouped. Now the last two people left to join them are you and him, the both of you side by side and listening intently to the others over an encrypted comm channel. 

After some debating, the Batch concludes that you two should find somewhere to spend the night and join them back at the ship tomorrow, deeming the trek back to the Marauder too dangerous after dark.

Once you find a gloomy (but cheap) motel, you go up to the main desk and ask for a room. With the excitement of the day turning into exhaustion, neither you or him think of clarifying what kind of room you want, presuming the receptionist gives you the key to a twin room. 

Expecting to see two beds in the room, your eyes go wide when you open the door to see only one…

HUNTER

Entering the room to see only one bed, Hunter sighs, his shoulder deflating. It’s been a long, strenuous day and debating over who gets the bed isn’t what he needs right now.

He automatically offers it to you, not only out of exhaustion but because he genuinely thinks you deserve it more. Hunter’s never had a comfy bed, often preferring to nap on the chairs aboard the Marauder than the actual bunks. So the way he sees it, sleeping on the floor is more familiar to him.

But of course this doesn’t suit you, insisting that he takes the bed instead. He’s too tired to do this “No you should have it” “No you” debate and so he’s quick to compromise, commenting on how the bed is big enough for the both of you.

Hunter’s extremely respectful when you’re both in the bed together. He keeps close to the edge of the bed and opts to sleep on his side so he takes up as little space as possible.

And that should be it… both of you staying on your respective sides of the bed and nodding off to sleep.

But that doesn’t sit right with Hunter.

He’s overtired but being in a new environment means his senses are on high alert. Hunter doesn’t see how he’s supposed to get any rest while his senses are completely on edge. And so he turns to the one thing his senses are familiar with… you.

You hear him turn over and within a few seconds, you feel Hunter’s arm slowly wrap around you. He does this very cautiously, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort from you. But when you let out a soft sigh and move towards Hunter, he takes that as a good sign.

With his arms around you, Hunter nuzzles his face into your hair. Your scent grounds him, your body acting as a safety blanket to his senses as he finally drifts off to sleep.

He keeps his arms around you during the night and when you wake in the morning, you find your head softly pressed against his chest and Hunter’s face still covered by your hair. He wouldn’t speak about this afterwards, unsure what to say or how to explain his need to have you close but if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, Hunter will definitely be cuddling you again.

TECH

When Tech sees the bed, he understands what the most logical solution is… albeit slightly flustering to think about.

Sharing the bed means the two of you will get some proper rest and considering you’ll both need to make it back to the ship tomorrow, rest is something you both desperately need.

But Tech doesn’t suggest it immediately, taking his time to look around the small room for any viable alternatives. He could sleep on the floor but considering the large amount of stains and random discolouring, Tech’s pretty sure he’ll catch some kind of sickness if he lays down on it.

Already beginning to build a barrier of pillows down the middle of the bed, he shares his thoughts with you and how he believes sharing the bed is the best option.  You (obviously) don’t oppose his plan and help him with the barrier.

But is the barrier needed? Nope, in fact within an hour, you’re already dismantling the pillow barrier.

You both try to get some sleep but after the events of the day, you’re worried and ask Tech what he thinks will happen next. That turns into a conversation about if the Empire will ever truly let the Batch go and then discussing what you both hope to do in that ideal world, where the Batch is truly free. During this conversation, you both begin removing pillows from your barrier, finding it hard to have such a deep conversation with pillows blocking your view of one another.

Tech knows he should cut the conversation short and get some much needed rest, but there’s something within him that stops him from doing so. Usually it’s impossible to talk with you for this long without some kind of interruption from the others.

It’s rare to get so much time to talk to you one on one and now that he has all night with you, Tech doesn’t want to waste it. Kriff, fantasising about the future is the last thing Tech would normally do but with you? He can do it all night if you want.

It’s almost the early hours of the morning by the time you drift off to sleep, your head lazily resting against Tech’s shoulder as your eyes begin to close.

Tech doesn’t mind, shortly drifting off to sleep after you with a small smile on his face and arm wrapped protectively around you.

WRECKER

This doesn’t really phase Wrecker. The second his eyes land on the lone bed, he only has one question; do you want to be the big spoon or little spoon?

The way he sees it, there’s not much he can do to change this nor is this a big deal to him.

You’re both good friends and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen asleep together. Simply, it is what it is and Wrecker’s okay with that.

It’s been a turbulent few weeks but Wrecker sees this as a break away, a mini vacation for just the two of you.

If you haven’t eaten yet, he’ll suggest you both go out to a local shop and buy as many snacks as you can. Wrecker is basically seeing this as a sleepover and what’s a sleepover without some midnight snacks?

The room is pretty basic so while there’s no way to watch any holomovies, Wrecker instead finds entertainment in your stories about life before the war. Any story you have, whether it be about your childhood or a night in 79’s, Wrecker wants to hear it.

The both of you spend most of the night sprawled across the bed, doing little competitions like who can throw a snack highest and catch it in their mouth.

When you’re both out of energy, there’s no actual discussion about sharing the bed. It just happens naturally, your head resting on Wrecker’s large arm as sleep takes over.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re on top of Wrecker, who’s snoring softly against you. His arms are thrown loosely around you as he holds you against his chest. Yeah you’re basically his replacement for Lula the Tooka doll.

It’s hard to get up, not because of Wrecker’s grip but because he’s so damn cosy. Closing your eyes, you decide another five minutes of bliss wouldn’t hurt.

ECHO

He won’t admit it but when the door slid open to reveal only one bed, Echo got a twist of anxiety in his gut.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel tired (or at least that’s what he tells you). And besides, the bounty hunters could still be lurking around so it’s dangerous for you both to sleep. Before you can question it, Echo gives the order that you sleep and he’ll take watch.

Echo can be quite a stubborn guy when he wants to be, so no matter how many times you suggest he gets some rest or offer to take the first watch, Echo brushes it off and insists he stays up.

It doesn’t take much thought to figure out why Echo is so adamant about staying awake. Sleeping next to you would be a dream come true for him but what if his modifications hurt you while he’s asleep? 

One accidental move of his arm during the night and he could hit you over the head with his scomp link. The very thought of that frightens him so if it were to actually happen, Echo is sure he wouldn’t recover.

After much back and forth, you get him to take watch while sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard as you sleep next to him. That way, at least Echo has some comfort, you under the duvet beside him while he sits rather rigidly next to you.

You fall asleep pretty quickly but you move quite a bit. Tossing and turning in your sleep, your brain can’t seem to relax, too wound up with all that’s happened recently.

Eventually, you roll a little too close to Echo, your body bumping off of him as you throw your arm around his waist. He stills, unsure whether he should move or if doing so would wake you.

Within a few seconds, you curl your body against his, your head resting on his thigh as you hold onto him, finally seeming peaceful in your sleep.

Echo has to admit, it’s pretty cute to see you relax almost the second you cuddle him, a warm feeling igniting in his chest. Suddenly, his worries begin to melt away and he wants to curse himself for overthinking the situation and not grabbing on to this opportunity while he could.

Despite being somewhat annoyed at himself, Echo’s grateful you’re next to him, nuzzling into him as you sleep. Absent-mindedly trailing his hand up and down your back, Echo rests his head against the cushy headboard, letting sleep take over.

CROSSHAIR

He rolls his eyes. That’s his first reaction. After all the shit he’s been through today and now this?! Crosshair isn’t happy.

You almost don’t catch what he says, his words coming out as a mutter as he tells you to take the bed and he’ll keep watch. Crosshair isn’t in the mood to debate this, so any suggestion you make of him also getting some rest is met with a sarcastic reply or a quip about how you’re wasting energy complaining when you should be sleeping.

While you get into the surprisingly soft bed, Crosshair sits at the bottom of the bed, sniper in hand as he cleans the weapon. It doesn't need to be cleaned but keeping himself busy helps fight off the urge to sleep.

Silence fills the room and you drift off to sleep, knowing you’ll be safe with Crosshair keeping watch.

But as soon as you fall asleep, that feeling of safety fades away and the nightmares begin. They don’t happen every night but when they do, the nightmares completely take over, causing you to mumble to yourself and flail in the bed.

When you leave out a particularly loud cry, Crosshair pauses, glancing behind his shoulder at you. He doesn't need an explanation of what this is, suffering from his own nightmares. 

Settling his sniper down on the wobbly coffee table, Crosshair moves closer to you, sitting beside your sleeping figure and watching as your face becomes clouded by dread. 

He’s not sure what to do, but hesitantly Crosshair places his hand on your shoulder, trying to still your erratic movements as he says “It’s alright, I’m here, you’re safe with me”.

His voice soothes you in ways you can’t even describe, his tone so calm yet confident. He’s shocked when the nightmares seem to subside, further encouraging him to continue his reassurances to you.

The more he reassures you, the more you seek out Crosshair’s warmth, your arms instinctively reaching out to him. As you try to cuddle him, Crosshair rolls his eyes before moving deeper into the bed, letting you cuddle into his side. This isn’t how he expected the night to go but now that you’re sleeping with your face in by his neck and leg on top of his, he assumes he’s stuck like this until you eventually wake up.

[scekrex]

Hey I was wondering if you could do Adam x reader where reader is a sinner who literally just spawned in the middle of an extermination so not only are they panicked about one somehow being alive, two the fact that they're body is basically completely different, and three that weird winged people are killing others. Adam sees reader and after a second or two of thinking and deciding that yeah they're cute makes up his mind and helps them. I hope you have an amazing day/night!

Thanks for request hun! I swear it was great writing it bc it was tricky to keep Adam as character accurate while also making him sympathize with reader. Here ya go, hope you like it xoxo/p

I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, mentions of death, low-key canon typical violence

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

First it had all been black for a moment, a silent void that your soul seemed to travel through. Then there was light, at first it had seemed reddish, then it turned gold, the golden light transitioned to white and then you found yourself standing on solid ground.

What?

You reached for your head, your hands roamed over your skull, there was soft hair there, no sticky red blood, so liquid that coated your hair and made it all greasy. There was also no sign of your skull being cracked open even though that was what had just happened before the world had faded and turned black.

Your eyes roamed over your surroundings and panic and anxiety fueled you alongside confusion on why you were still alive.

There were winged people, they were fighting other creatures, in the hair, on the ground, all around you. Your body screamed at you to run away, to go seek shelter somewhere, to not get killed again. Which was weird enough because you had just died so why the fuck were you here and where was here to begin with. But your body didn't move, it felt like you were glued to the spot, as if your feet had melted and were now one with the ground.

A thing you noticed quickly was that all of the winged people wore black and white only, their wings matched those colors. But there was one guy, way taller than the others, he wore a purple robe with white details and golden sleeves, his wings were also golden. You assumed he was their leader.

You wanted to hide, from him especially, because if you were right and he was their leader, you were easy prey for them. You didn't understand what was going on, nor did you know where you were. Your arms reached for your legs, you tried to move, to get out of their view, to make yourself as unnoticeable as physically possible. But your body still wasn't moving. So you stood there, body violently shaking from fear and panic, what would it be like to die a second time? Would it be just as painful? Would you come back yet again and live through it all again?

“Fucking run you stupid bastard,” someone yelled at you as they rushed past your frozen body. All you could do was to look at them. Then your legs gave out and you collapsed.

Curled up into a ball your body was still shaking, vibrating even, and you felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks. That's it, you were going to die again, maybe even more painful than before. But most importantly: this time you were going to die alone, no partner by your side.

In the corner of your eyes you saw a shadow that was casted over you, a gigantic shadow with wings that were spread out, the winged creature was basically shielding your body from the few of the other winged creatures.

You saw how he leaned in, how his face got closer to your body, a dead serious expression was meeting your unsteady one. Fuck, he was going to kill you, wasn't he?

His lange hand grabbed your shoulder roughly and forced you to lay on your back, he eyed your face carefully before greeting you with a relaxed, “Sup?” You were too stunned to speak. You had expected this creature to kill you, to tear you apart until all that's left of you were little shreds. But instead he greeted you with a simple ‘sup’? Your body tried to get away from his touch, everything inside of you screamed to get away from him, that he was bad news. But you stayed, mainly because his grip on you was painfully firm, but you stayed. “Y’know,” he continued as he raised an eyebrow at you, “It’s pretty fucking rude to not answer.”

A weak and quiet, “Hey,” was all you could get out and while clearly not the answer he had wanted - he made sure you knew that by sighing heavily - he picked you up bridal style. His golden wings were still spread, you supposed he held them up in pride, claiming you as his very own personal trophy. “Where are we going?” it was more of an instinct than actual knowledge you wanted, you were pretty sure you did not wanna know where the two of you were heading to. Most likely he was carrying you in your death. “Dunno, away from the fucking battle for now,” was his response as he walked away from said battle. Why was he being nice? Was he being nice or did he just carry you away to brutally murder you? But if that was his intention then why was he leaving the battlefield? Why not kill you then and there? “Why?” you simply asked, it was all that you could get out, you were too caught up in your thoughts to talk in proper sentences. He looked down at you and for a moment there was confusion written all over his face before he understood, a simple shrug was the answer. “You looked fucking lost,” the creature carrying you explained, “Fucking scared and alone.”

Adam sighed as he forced his eyes shut, you had reminded him of himself after Eve had left him. He was alone, scared even. And then he had crossed the pearly gates and the loneliness continued, he was less afraid but still as lonely, still as broken as he had been on earth. And while you had ended up in hell he couldn't just leave you there, not when you had been looking so much like him when he had died. Adam had died alone, no one should die alone. Especially not someone as gloriously holy looking as you. Because for a sinner, you looked too much like an angel. The wings were missing, obviously they were, no sinner would be reborn with angelic wings, but he could picture you with a pair and he hated himself for it. Because hell was forever and for the first time he didn't like the thought of that, because it included you. The first man didn't quite understand where the sympathy towards you came from, maybe it was just that he had seen himself in you, maybe it was because you seemed different than the others. Has God made a mistake? Adam shook his head, no. God makes no mistakes and neither do angels. But yet he questioned why you looked so holy, so angelic while being reborn a sinner.

The inner conflict Adam was fighting against himself was interrupted by two cannibals that were walking right towards you. Adam rolled his eyes, one hand let go of you and his wing came up to hold you up instead as he raised the hand that had been holding you only moments and a golden battle axe guitar appeared out of thin air. He twirled the shiny looking Instrumental weapon, then sliced their heads off smoothly, Adam's wing had covered your eyes so you weren't able to see it, but you heard it. Heard the blade slicing through flesh, heard their heads hitting the ground. And as surprisingly as the weapon had appeared, it was gone again.

One of the black and white dressed creatures flew towards you, seemingly targeting Adam. “Sir,” the female spoke with respect as she landed next to the guy that was carrying you. She eyed you, then looked at the tall man. “No fucking comment about it, Lute,” he warned with a low growl in his voice and the woman straightened her back with a nod, “We are done, we need to leave.” The masked man looked down at you, you looked so beautiful against his golden feathers, so holy, so untouchable. Yet you were a sinner and he couldn't bring a sinner with him to heaven. So he carefully let you down, the tip of his longest feather ghosted over your cheek, it wiped the tears away. “Promise me to stay fucking safe,” he mumbled as he stood in front of you. You looked up at him with curious eyes, “Where will you be going?” And it was just then and there that Adam realized that you knew nothing. Without him you would've died on the battlefield. “Heaven babes, me and those crazy bitches are going home,” he hummed and pointed to the woman next to him. “And we're currently in…?” Adam's face scrunched up and he bitterly spoke, “Hell.”

Oh. Oh.

So he was an angel? What did that make you? A demon? And yet he had protected you, shielded and saved you. Your eyes widened at that and the man in front of you chuckled. “If you ever see my ladies again,” he once again pointed to the woman next to him, “As for Adam, I'll let these cunts know about you babes ‘n’ they'll lead ya ass to me.” You repeated his name softly, deciding immediately that you liked the sound of it. “The one and only, it's not every day that you meet the fucking og dick,” a cocky grin was sent your way and it took you a moment to process his words. “The Adam? Like Adam and Eve?” That caused the first man's expression to sour immediately, Eve was seemingly a sensitive topic, you took a mental note. “Yeah. That one.”

Lute was once again the one to interrupt, “Sir we really need to go. The seraphims will question why we were gone longer than agreed.” Adam once again rolled his eyes and grabbed your shoulders again, more gentle this time, “Stay safe babes, we'll be back in six months.” And while you weren't entirely sure what he meant by that - because back for what? - you nodded.

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: god of time! San x f! Reader

Word Count: 2113

Warnings: cursing, dub con (it's a planned scenario but only shown to be one at the end so read with caution) (smut warnings under cut)

Genre: smut, rated E for explicit, established relationship au

Summary: Strange things keep happening, and your best friend may know something about it

Smut warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving, male recieving but only like a sentence and implied), unprotected sex (wrap before tap guys🔫), dirty talk, slight begging if you squint, felching (again), cum play, praise, light breast play, dub con, roleplay (they're roleplaying that san is her best friend who takes advantage of her), creampie i think?

I’m only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 25! free use/spit play, and i chose the former! this is a pretty heavy fic (dubcon) ad if you don't like it, please click away! while at the end it's mentioned that this is just a scenario, it's not really said outright and it's only at the very end so please!! read with caution!

And this is the last of the FFF i'm writing! i hope you enjoyed the burst of smuts from me and maybe you'll see more in the future ;)

ALSO! as threatened by @sanjoongie...dedicated to her and it's for topaz's eyes only lol /hj

-

A strange taste fills your mouth and you stop mid-sentence, clearing your throat and chugging the rest of your water. Your best friend, San, is watching you with concern on his face. “You good (Y/N)?”

You nod, clearing your throat again and swallowing down the strange bitter taste in your throat. “Uh. Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “Just got a weird taste in your throat. Probably choked on my spit or something.”

San hums, brushing over the incident, but when he’s left for his apartment and all you have to keep you company is silence, you rush to the bathroom to cough and gargle the familiar taste of come out of your mouth. That has been happening to you for the past few days. You’ll be in the middle of the most mediocre task and in the blink of an eye your mouth or ass is sore and there’s cum dripping somewhere.

You remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday (and to be honest, it was only just the past Saturday). You were just doing your laundry with San playing video games as he usually does since you just ‘have the better router’, when you felt your underwear grow sticky and your legs quiver like when you use your Hitachi in privacy. With a glance at San, you slid into the bathroom and yanked your underwear down, staring for a good moment at the wetness that covered both the cloth and your thighs. There was no mistake about it. You had orgasmed.

You had brushed it off as just some random body thing, but then it happened again. And again. Some days you’d just be having dinner, and on others, you’d just be reading a book and you’ll find yourself ass up and underwear soaked. Every once in a while, you’d even have the taste of come on your tongue.

You swear you’re haunted, but no amount of salt, or incense, or candles kept whatever entity it was from coming and using you in the blink of an eye.

But one day, you were just trying to have a nice shower when this time, when you blinked, you were laying on the ground with come all over your face and your cunt ached and gaped more than you were used to. Tentatively, you pushed two fingers inside you, subconsciously letting out a sigh at the stretch. When you draw them back out, your eyebrows raise at the white, sticky release clinging to your fingers. That was a first, and you hate that you grow wetter at the idea.

This needs to stop.

-

“San, I think I’m being haunted,” you cry, launching yourself into his arms as soon as he opens the door at eleven at night. “I swear I can’t stop it.”

San’s brows furrow the slightest bit. “What do you mean? Why so late?” Even through his confusion, he lets you in and locks the door behind him, a fact you’re eternally grateful for.

“Okay, hear me out. I think a ghost is haunting me and using my body as a toy.” You know you sound like a fool with how San’s expression changes to that of slight amusement. “You don’t have to believe me, but I swear it’s happening!”

With a sigh coming from the depths of his soul, San opens the blanket he had swaddled himself in, and you quickly curl up under his arm. “Do you want to stay here tonight? We can check it out tomorrow.”

You nod as best you can with your face in his warm, sturdy, chest and the two of you waddle your way to his bed. The covers are thrown off haphazardly and you almost feel bad until you remember what happens to you when you’re in your apartment and you let it go.

As you melt into the bed, San throws an arm around you and mumbles in your ear, “You did look pretty good sprawled out in the shower.”

It’s almost embarrassing it takes you a minute to register what he says but your eyes snap open to find San staring at you right in the eyes with a smirk growing on his face. You jerk away from him but you’re tangled in the sheets and you just fall to the ground.

You try again, but this time, something’s off. Your limbs aren’t moving how you want them to…or moving at all. San’s smile only grows wider as he leans over the edge of the bed to stare at you. “Surprise,” he hums, reaching down to pull you back onto the bed like you weigh nothing. “You were just too easy, (Y/N)ie. Running straight to my arms like I’m the one to save you? Pathetic.” He scoffs, his hands wandering down your sides. It would feel ticklish but as much as you try to squirm, nothing happens and his hands keep moving.

With a glint in his eye, his large palm comes to rest on your cunt, still soaked through from what he did to you in the shower. And within a second, he pushes your panties aside and presses his fingers into you, groaning at how loose you are. “It was so fucking easy,” he moans, moving closer to you so his breath fans over your face. You can smell the mint toothpaste and you want to spit in his face, but you can’t. “You don’t even remember anything, right? Just what happens after. But God, now you finally can see exactly what I do.”

His hands slide up your torso, pushing your bra up to play with your nipples. “So pretty and pliant for me,” his lips twist into a smile and he presses a kiss to your slightly open mouth. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long. You never saw the way I looked at so, what was a guy supposed to do? Now I finally have you.”

His breathing becomes laboured as his mouth trails down your neck before nipping at the soft flesh of your breast. You can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, twitching and forming a wet patch at the front of his grey sweatpants. San’s hand reaches between your bodies to shove his pants down enough to free his cock, slapping it against your cunt before lining up and pushing in slowly. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of your hot pussy swallowing him up. “Just as sloppy and loose as I like it.”

He presses his lips feverishly against your unresponsive mouth, thrusting harshly. Each time he pulls out and slams back in, you can hear every squelch and you want to moan at how his thick cock hits the perfect spot every time. You hate that you love the feeling of him stretching you out and kissing your walls so sweetly. But the worst part is the fact that as much as you can feel every little bit of pleasure he’s serving you, you can’t move an inch to chase your own pleasure. The slow pressure building in your gut stays stagnant and you won’t come, not until you’re free from this prison of time.

San’s still mouthing at your parted lips, his hands wandering around your torso and gripping at your skin. His thrusts have become more erratic, pistoning in and out of you as his cock throbs. “Oh my God,” he groans, high-pitched and almost whining as he comes deep inside of you. With each rope of cum, you can feel it filling you up so well and if you could, you would relax at the end of it. San pants against your lips, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat falls on you.

His hands are still gripping onto your hips like there’s no tomorrow, but his hips come to a still as he jerks once, twice, and the last bits of come spurt out of him.  “God, still so perfect,” San hums, biting at your lower lip. “So much better when you look at me like that. So pretty.”

His hands cup your face and stroke your cheek. He slowly pulls out of you but to your surprise, instead of letting you regain control of your body, he shifts, sliding lower. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening but as soon as his warm breath hits your core it hits.

As he licks a broad stripe up the pool of his come and your slick, you jolt with a gasp, your body finally back to yours. Before you can do anything, struggle, moan, even blink, San sucks harshly at your clit and your hands fly to grip his hair as you half scream half moan. “Shit–” you whine out, voice broken as if you’ve forgotten how to speak. “San– please–”

As a response, his tongue flicks your clit and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you even closer to him. “Fuck, taste so good, and you taste even better begging for me.” His voice is so raspy as he mouths his way down to your fluttering hole, shoving his tongue in and working it against your clenching walls.

You squeal, legs jerking but you can’t move too much before they suddenly are still and you lift your head to see San staring right at you as he tastes you. “Isn’t it so much easier that way?” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, eyes burning with desire. “No struggling, just feeling?”

Before you can respond, his teeth scrape against your sensitive bud and the slow build-up of your orgasm finally crashes over you. Your brain goes fuzzy and your vision burns white as you throw your head back onto the mattress and your hands grip his hair so tight you fear you might’ve pulled out some hair. You swear you’ve gone deaf for a few blissful seconds before you come back down from your high and San’s slowed his licks as he groans, sitting up and pressing just the head of his dick into you as he cums again, painting your folds white. Gently, he pushes his come back inside of you around his dick while thrusting shallowly into you, moaning as his come foams up around his fingers. “God, you’re such a fucking dream," San moans, crawling up to meet your tired face and kiss you deep, his tongue working its way into your slack mouth, and you can taste his come on his tongue.

A pause, and he cups your face and presses another, lighter, kiss to your lips. You respond this time, pulling him closer by his shirt collar. “I wasn’t too rough with you, right?” His voice is much smaller now, and your eyes crinkle as you smile at him fondly.

“Of course not. You never are. Sure, I was a bit sore after you used your powers, but hey, that’s what makes it good.” You press a kiss on his cheek. “I’m just happy I got to be with you. I mean, who else can boast they’re dating a god of time?”

San chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “And I’m lucky to be dating the one and only (Y/N).” He presses another sweet kiss to your temple. “You did so well for me too. Now, let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

You chuckle, winding your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. “Or…we could use another round.”

“Ah, you’re not tired yet? I just used you for a good hour,” San scolds, but you can feel him growing hard against your hip again. “Maybe I should tire you out for real.”

With a smirk, you reach down and palm his growing erection. “Maybe you should,” you start to say, but you’re soon cut off by his lips on yours. He picks you up, making you squeal as he carries you to the connected bathroom. “Aw,” you pout, but San kisses it away and you see the darkness in his eyes.

“Don’t ‘aw’ so soon, baby. If you want a round two, it’d just be easier to do it here,” San teases and your eyes brighten at his implications. “Now be good for me and get on your knees.”

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself already ready in position on the cold tile and heat pools in your core as you smile and open your mouth wide. Your body freezes, but your mind relaxes as you let him slip his half-hard cock into your mouth. There are many perks to dating him, and this is just one of them.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Them reacting to you gifting them something for Valentine's day

characters: Seele / Bronya x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: Do me a Favor and pretend it’s still Valentine's Day, okay? I was busy yesterday and only got the idea to write something for it after I saw @genshingorlsrevengeance post.

Also no Natasha, bc I’m not going to lie, I couldn’t think of what to write for her…

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Seele

The most difficult part about handing Seele her gift was finding her in the first place. With how many tasks and missions she had to run through, getting a hold of her turned out to be more difficult than you had envisioned, as whenever you arrived at her last known location, she had already booked it to somewhere else.

When you finally caught up to Seele however, you could hear her from what felt like a mile away, arguing with a couple of stubborn vagrants only for it to escalate into a full on clash as you got nearer. Once you got to see her however, the two other combatants were laying on the ground already, one of them groaning in pain as the other seemed to have been knocked out for a while.

“Get lost while you can- Oh it’s you”, Seele spat as she turned around in a moment's notice, her scythe drawn and pointed at the perceived enemy, only for her to quickly lower it once she realized who stood before her.

“Ah, my bad. You caught me off-guard… Did something happen for you to be looking for me?”, she asked as a hint of worry made its way onto her face, only for her eyes to widen in surprise when she noticed the small pouch in your hand.

“N-no”, you stammered out, still somewhat in shock from having her weapon pointed at your face before coughing in hopes it would lessen the chances of your voice cracking again and continuing. 

“Anyway, happy Valentine's Day”, you handed her the chocolate, Seele’s hand automatically reaching out to accept it as her cheeks grew slightly red, balling her other hand into a fist and putting it in front of her mouth to nervously cough into it while at the same time trying to cover the lower half of her face.

“I, umm… I didn’t think you’d- I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this”, she managed to say out loud, looking away slightly for a few seconds before putting down her hand and looking you in the eyes once again. “Thanks.”

“...Ahem. Where were we?”, Seele eventually proclaimed as she turned around to the two vagrants once again, only to start looking around hurriedly when they were nowhere to be found.

“Quick, they have to be nearby, help me find them!”

Bronya

From the moment she opened her eyes, Bronya was reminded of what made today so special, your work assured it, after all. The first of your letters was placed on her bedside table, another one fell out when she opened her closet, and the last one she found once she pulled open the top drawer of her desk, the envelope kept shut by the wax-seal she had grown all too familiar with since getting to know you.

Each of them were filled with enough encouraging and loving words to make even a heart of stone melt, and yet you were nowhere to be seen. As the day dragged on, with Bronya re-reading your words in between each of the dozens of audiences she went through, having to hide the smile appearing on her face whenever she thought about them in the middle of listening to her people’s troubles and worries more than once, she increasingly found herself yearning to see you. And yet, you were nowhere to be seen.

When she finally finished work, the sun was already starting to set, the amount of people in the room slowly dwindling down until the only people other than her present were two silvermane-guards standing on each side of the entrance. Only for that to change as well when another voice rang through the hall.

“Would you be so kind and leave the two of us alone for a while?”

By the time Bronya looked up, the two guards were well on their way through the door, and you were coming closer and closer before eventually stopping just a few feet away from the stairs leading up to her desk, a bouquet of Flowers in your hands as you gave her the smile she had missed the entire day.

And before Bronya knew it, she was on her feet and moving towards you as well.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. The Astral Express was nice enough to allow me to go on a small day trip with them”, you apologized before presenting her your gift, the various kinds of flowers she had never seen on Belobog before explaining your motive for leaving better than any words could have done.

“Happy Valentine’s day”, you managed to speak before Bronya gave you an unexpected hug, one you quickly returned.

The two of you remained that way until there was a sudden knock on the door, causing the Supreme Guardian to return to her regular posture in the span of a nanosecond before calling on the person on the other side to enter. Not without whispering a few more words to you however.

“Thank you.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hi Fen! Hope you're doing well <3

I've been having such a hard time going to sleep lately and I was wondering if the moon boys ever have that problem - when they're not trying to stay up that is. So what do you think? Do any of them have trouble falling asleep? What do they do when that happens? And how do you think they'd help a Reader who couldn't fall asleep?

I’m so sorry you’re having trouble sleeping! (And that it’s taken me so long to reply) I hope you're doing better now <3

Rating: PG  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: brief mention to sex

Steven

Doesn’t have trouble sleeping, and can go to sleep quite easily when he’s not fighting it AND when Marc isn’t co-fronting (Marc’s sleeping issues bleed over into Steven).

When you can’t sleep though Steven is more than happy to stay up with you.

“Spend most of my adult life on 2 hours of sleep a day, didn't I? Yes. So this isn’t even water off a duck’s back, this is air off a duck’s back, this is not even noticeable love.” 

Will suggest lots of different things to do: reading (he will read to you if you want to try to sleep), watch something, listen to music, go on a weird London at 3:30am walk, “the night tube is running and we could go to 24 hour karaoke in Soho?”, “did you know these libraries are open at 4am?”, “I know a 24 gym that has a pool, we could go swimming!”, “Beckenham Place Park actually has open water swimming, I bet we’d be the only ones there! But I’m gonna wear a nose clip because I don’t want possible brain-eating amoeba up my nose, do I? No.” Proceeds to tell you a documentary's worth of information about Naegleria fowleri and how it was found in 1978 in Bath, so “yes it is in the UK Marc.”

Basically he’s full of ideas about where to go in the middle of the night that’s open because that’s what he used to do when he was trying not to sleep. (Also it’s nice to do things when there’s not so many people about.) 

Will suggest driving to a spot he knows outside of London where there’s less light pollution to look at the stars. Will wake up Jake to do the driving. Will bully the hell out of Khonshu if the sky isn’t clear. (And will make him get rid of the cloud.) 

100% would ask if you would like him to fuck you to sleep.

Marc

He’s not asleep either. 

Usually gets Steven or Jake to fall asleep for him.

However, if they’re already asleep, or not available, he goes with the ‘I am laying down with my eyes closed, because it’s still resting’ philosophy. 

He tries not to toss and turn a lot, but he does bless him. 

Has tried to drink himself to sleep on several occasions. 

Doesn’t like to see you having trouble sleeping at all and spends ages fussing over you. 

Fluffs the pillows, gets extra blankets, gets less blankets, turns the heating on, gets the fan out, will run you a bath and put all the lavender stuff in and make you 500 herbal teas, then change the bed covers. 

Will offer to sleep on the sofa or the floor so he doesn’t disturb you while you’re trying to sleep. (Then apologies when you obviously hate the idea of him being away from you.)

Is giving ALL the cuddles, however you want them. Will lay in the most uncomfortable position for himself for you to be comfy (will not tell you the position is uncomfortable for him.)

Tells you the most outrageously made up stories in quiet hushed tones to help lull you to sleep and then acts mock offended if you doubt that anything he says didn’t really happen.

Makes you cum on his mouth repeatedly until you’re so exhausted you have no choice but to fall asleep.

Jake

Can actually fall asleep anywhere at any time. 

I still firmly believe that before Steven and Marc know about him he would front just to go to sleep because they are so bad at getting some shut eye and constantly run the body into the ground.

Has melatonin tablets and a whole pharmacy's worth of sleeping aids to share. 

Will 100% take you for a drive to try to get you to fall asleep (or just to take you somewhere if you want, or if Steven has woken him up to drive.)

“Jake, I need you to drive to-”

“Steven… It's bedtime, time for sleep. No driving.”

“Oh, but S/O is having trouble sleeping and-”

Jake is already out of bed with his car keys in hand.

Will offer to be your weighted blanket and lay all over you. 

Says he will threaten Khonshu to keep the sun down so you can rest if it takes you a while to get to sleep. 

Tries to (lovingly) bore you to sleep by counting sheep out loud and in detail. “This one is a Merino sheep, the ones that are very fluffy. Her name is Harold. She likes grass, but not clover. Which is unusual for a sheep. So that’s one so far, one sheep. Now this next one is…”

Doesn’t offer sexy times because he doesn’t want to be pushy, however if you suggest it he’s happily all over you.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[arzuera]

Once Danny was far enough he broke down crying, he knew he shouldn't, he was expecting this. But in the end it still hurts.

Was it so wrong for him to hope for a different outcome? To be fully loved by the parents that he loved all of his life. That loved HIM for all of his life. Only to be cast out and hunted for fate accidentally turning him into the thing that they despised the most? Was it truly such a sin? Did the universe hate him that much?

Lightning cracked the sky as a thunderous roar followed. Rain poured down in sheets, erasing any traces of his frantic flight away from his hometown. Away from the ones who sought to kill him a second time. Away from the people he loved.

Danny allowed himself to fall fully to the ground of this little field. His parents had long since given up trying to chase him down. He had been too fast for the GAV to keep up with through a densely packed forest. Even then, he had kept going. Minutes turned into yards, hours turned into miles. He had fled as far as his body would allow and it had been a lot farther than he thought it would be. Danny had no idea where he was at this point. Not that he cared.

Anguish gripped his core hard as he let out a cry that would have brought anyone nearby to their knees. It wasn’t quite a wail but it was close. He shoved all of his pain and sorrow for the fact that his entire life had been ripped out by the roots and thrown viciously aside. It wasn’t the Nasty Burger accident but this was just about as bad. They weren’t dead but, in the end, he still ended up alone. So he continued to scream. His cries turned into minor wails at times but since he was screaming to the sky nothing was destroyed.

He didn’t stop until his throat bled and the screams turned into nothing more than strangled sobs. White rings flashed around his midsection as the last of his powers gave out. Leaving Danny with nothing other than his human side. The one that still existed, despite what his parents claimed. With no strength left, he lay in the mud unable to move. Vulnerable. Anyone could walk up and just do what they wanted and he wouldn’t even care. What was the point? There wasn’t any reason to try anymore. If only that portal had finished the job-

“You’ll catch your death laying on the ground like that.” A long trenchcoat came into view with a middle-aged man looking down at him from under his umbrella. “What’s a kid like you hanging out in a park so late at night in Gotham?”

Danny didn’t respond. His eyes were unfocused with his vision blurring around the edges. So he was in Gotham. Wonderful. Somehow he had managed to fly several states away in just a few hours. If he could, he would have excitedly called Sam and Tucker about this new record but he couldn’t. Not anymore.

The man sighed heavily when he realized that he wasn’t going to get an answer. So he sidled up and crouched down closer to the teen’s eye level while holding his umbrella out so it protected them both. “Look, kid. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous Gotham is at night. Especially to a kid like yourself. Is there somewhere I can take you to… or-” He stopped when the lights in Danny’s eyes dimmed even further than they were. “Mkay, guess not.” The man looked around the immediate area before settling on Danny again. “All right, bud, can you stand? We’ll get you back to my place until we can figure something out.”

Danny laughed bitterly turning into a coughing fit. Blood leaked out from the corner of his mouth making the man look at him with even more concern. “Isn’t it dangerous to go with a stranger this late at night in Gotham?” he rasped out and it only made the coughing worse but Danny didn’t care.

Instead of taking offense like Danny thought he would, the man smirked at the teen as if this was an everyday occurrence. “Well, we can’t be strangers if you know my name right? Name’s James Gordon, friends call me Jim. Now let’s get you out of this cold and your throat looked at. I doubt you want that getting worse.” With great care, Gordon picked Danny up and held him close. Finagling the teen around so that the umbrella wouldn’t fall out of position. Danny was too surprised by the fact that he was suddenly picked up to notice the frown that briefly crossed the man’s face at how light the boy was.

“Wait… what? What are you doing-” Danny weakly struggled against Gordon and failed since his strength was entirely spent.

“Relax, I’m not going to do anything bad. As Commissioner of this lovely city, the only safer hands you would be in is Batman, himself.” Gordon started to head out of the park towards a vehicle parked nearby. Danny gave up trying to resist, opting to just let things happen. “We’re just going to stop by my place and get you looked at. My daughter might not be a doctor but she’s pretty good with a first aid kit.”

“Why do you even care?” Danny couldn’t help but blurt out. A small pang of guilt crept into his heart from how he said it. From what little he knew, Commissioner Gordon was one of the few upright people in Gotham. One of the few people that was trying to keep the city safe… Just like Danny had tried. Only Gordon didn’t have powers at his disposal. It would be weird if the man didn’t care.

“A lone, possible meta, child screaming until his throat bleeds in the dead of night with no one around? I think you are smart enough to figure that one out.” Gordon positioned the teen in the backseat of his car before getting behind the wheel.

Danny tensed at the implication. If he thought he was a meta then he probably saw him de-transform. “…how much did you see?”

“Enough and don’t you worry about it. Big bad Bat isn’t going to kick you out as you think. If you are worried about me judging then please let me remind you, I’m the Commissioner of Gotham. A kid with powers isn’t anything new.” Gordon started up the engine and they were off. A brief silence descended on the two while Danny struggled to stay awake.

“You aren’t… you won’t turn me in?”

“Did you do something wrong?”

“Well, no but-”

“Then even if there is a law saying you shouldn’t exist, I’m not going to turn you in. If that were the case, the only person I would turn you over to is Batman and that’s because he would have a better chance at protecting you from outside forces than I would.” Gordon stated with full confidence as he pulled into the parking spot next to his building. “Here we are. Now while Barbara is checking you over I’ve got a mean vegetable stew my friend gave me. Want me to warm some up to see if it helps your throat any?”

When the man turned around he was greeted to the watery eyes of his newest charge looking at him with the smallest glimmer of hope that he had seen the entire time. Danny kept his gaze on the Commissioner. “Yes, please.”

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by anon : i hope this isn’t too dark but could i request joel with a daughter who’s a recovering addict?? and just how he would deal with that

Warnings : ADDICTION recovery, swearing, a clingy father and a ghostly mention of a blackout.

A/N : i hope you like this, anon.❤❤ Also i have a feeling i conveyed Joel a bit weaker than he usual is??? But in my brain it's the Joel that met up with Tommy again. The exact addiction was also not specified so i tried to make it as neutral as possible. Anyway, enjoy yall! 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

------

"Hey" A soft smile phantoms over your dad's face as he enters the room. "How are we feeling this morning?" He attempts enthusiasm but fails. You don't push... At least he tries...That's what you keep saying to yourself.

It's been a few months since your last episode. Call it episode of whatever you want, anger, last straw, the moment you gave yourself another chance...

"We're good..." You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, timidly swinging your foot forward and backward "Should we...?" You throw your chin forward, motioning towards the door.

"Yeah!"

----

Since that last time, living with Joel has been a blessing and a curse. The heavy silence that sets in the car every time you went somewhere, the weight of knowing what occupied both of your minds and not being able to do anything about it.

There were fights. Like that time he entered your room without knocking, causing you to startle and to to swing your habd behind your back.

He'd ruin the fucking surpr-

"What are you hiding behind your back?" His low tone slaps you like thunder and you realize wht he has in mind.

Your heart stings and you scoff. stupid you for thinking about him, yeah?

You hold out the glass jar, examining its contents one last time. A letter, a pocket watch, a small knife and a monarch butterfly you stupidly taxidermied, thinking it was the thing he loved the most. "Monarch butterflies..creatures guided by an ancient instinct to seek sanctuary in distant lands...Kinda remind me of myself..." He'd always say. So you violently hurl the bottle at the ground, meeting his eyes as the bottle shatters. "Well, it was your gift." You force a smile. "There it goes." And before brushing past him, you make sure to spit on the contents, just in case he ever decided to pick them up after you.

He grips your arm as you walk by. But you yanked it away, throwing him a glare before leaving.

He begs later. More than once, for a few days. "I-I-I'm sorry, I-I" He holds your hand. "I can't imagine how much that hurt..."

There were also other times where tears flowed. Tears being his...least favorite thing.

Like that time your body shut down...Went numb and you found yourself on your knees, hyperventilating as you search for air to breathe. Nothing serious, just pure exhaustion and lack of sleep. On his face of the moon, you fell to the ground and were unable to breathe, your colors washed off and your eyes widened....What's happening to you??? He doesn't know.

He rushes down to the ground and leans close to your face, feeling for..symptoms. "What-w-what is it-what's happening?" He shouts through panicky unsteady breaths. And as you struggle to even utter a word or two, tears stream down his face. "Please tell me what's happening."

Again, nothing serious on your side. Just a bad flashback for him, from back when you blacked out last. When he almost lost you.

That being said, bad moments weren't the only things that shaped your relationship. There were good moments too.

Good moments where words weren't needed for him to show how much he cared for you. He'd -not-so-discreetly watch you eat, from the corner of his eyes. and he'd sometimes lay awake, waiting to comfort you.

he'd also supervise you from time to time (More like spy on you).

You once couldn't deal with it anymore. And your prankster attitude couldn't let it slide easily. So you decided to prank him.

On your stroll through the woods, you stopped in your tracks, whirling around to point your rifle at him.

"Show yourself or i'm shooting your eyeballs off." Stern and threatening, you shout.

He startles, abruptly raising his arms up. "It's me!!!! It's me." Fear laces his voice. "It's just me."

A smirk creeps up on your face. "I know." You snort. "I got ya good." You got him goood.

His shoulders slouch and he breathes out heavily. "You sure did."

"Are you following me?" You ask, still keeping the same distance between the two of you.

"N-no, i'm j-"

"Just following me."

He sighs again. "No, i a-"

"Spying"

"NO! I'm just making sure you're not....Just making sure you're okay."

You debate whether to tell him that's literally spying or to just leave it. So you just shrug. "Okay...sure."

It can be suffocating at times, But you appreciate the effort anyways.

"Go home, dude." You turn on your heels and head away from him.

On your road to full recovery, you find yourself missing things that you promised yourself and the world you'd stay away from. With Joel on your side -and sometimes up your ass- You find yourself wanting to run, but always ending up wanting him back by your side. Because as protective and annoying as he can be, he's also always there whenever you find yourself falling back down, easing the burden of being this new person you're trying to be.

------

"Are you listening?"

You smile at him, thrown off by the sudden come back you had to do. "Yeah. Let's go."

--------

Hiiii! I hope yall enjoyed thiis, even though it's different from the usual style ❤❤🌸🥀🥀

[turnnblurb]

You’re The One I Want

pairing - Rhett Abbott x OC (Odelia Graves)

wc - 4k

warnings - mentions of death, talks of sex, tobacco use, emotional abuse, religion, eventual smut

synopsis - Odelia Graves has never been the first pick in anything until she rekindles her relationship with her childhood friend Rhett Abbott.

notes - I am such a sucker for childhood friends to strangers to lovers. Thank you for reading!!! Love you, mean it!!

Loneliness was a common word around Amelia County. Uttered expression of it would earn someone a polite, but disingenuous, bless your heart. It was an emotion that Odelia Graves felt more often than not.

She found it hard to recall a moment in her life that was inhabited by human nature and warmth, those were buried only in the years before her mother’s passing. Bless your hearts.

Those three words were thrown at the Graves sisters for years. Eventually, the population of Wabang found themselves too enchanted with their own indulgences to bless the hearts of the grieving family any longer.

The oldest Graves, Anna Mae, was a degreed nurse at Wabang General. Sophisticated and damn good with a needle and stitch, what did she need the blessings for? Layla, the second born, seemed to be having her fun with her bull riders and bonfires. Nothing like a distraction to swallow down the big pill of grief. The youngest, Daisy, had to be the most well-mannered sixteen year old girl to grace the small town. No blessings needed there.

Odelia fit somewhere in there, she herself just wasn’t sure where. Third born, not exactly the middle, but not first or last. It was more beneficial to the town for them to disregard the daughter that was a spitting image of her slain mother. Better to forget the unsolved case than to dwell on how her daughter’s amber red hair matched her own at that age.

She was sure that if her father could still open his eyes he would even look right through her.

Earl Graves, once the best nine-ball shooter to step foot into The Handsome Gambler, was now being kept alive with machinery on the second floor of the family’s home. Odelia didn’t truly believe someone could be killed by heartbreak before her mother’s death. She knew now that if the sheriff hadn’t knocked on their door into the late hours of the night to personally deliver the dreadful news, her father would be tending to their cattle. Not a lifeless bag of bones laying in a hospice bed that insurance refused to cover.

So, with her sisters’ endeavors and family ranch to upkeep, Odelia did find herself awfully, terribly lonely.

Her time was spent treating ill hooves, harvesting, herding, delivering hen eggs, and working on other ranches when time allowed. Anna Mae would hand her a measly check every month. A meek $200 to be spent strictly on whatever was needed to keep the ranch from plummeting into the ground.

It was her duty, everything seemed to be her damned duty. She didn’t mind looking after Daisy. In fact, she cherished it. At times it seemed to be the only thing holding her together. She would bring her to school in the morning when she woke up too late to catch the bus. Laugh and blush with her over Dean Martin movies and a homemade Digiorno's pizza. Braid her hair for when they went riding together. Nurturing the youngest of the Graves was a glimpse into a life she once so desperately wanted.

Like most things she once believed in, the concept of love had been altered by the nasty realities of life. The boys stopped looking to her for entertainment when their voices dropped and their visions were clouded by lust. Layla had straighter hair and wider hips around the same time this occurred. Even the youngest Abbott, whom Odelia was so desperately in love with at the age of thirteen, had grown into his own teenage ways. It didn’t take long for her to realize that he only started coming over when Layla was drinking sweet tea on the front porch in one of her sundresses.

Even now at twenty-three, him at twenty-four, she had enough sense to know that there was nothing there for him within her scrawny figure and purple under eyes. Had enough sense to know that there was nothing there for anyone’s longing.

His Ma had always loved Odelia. Greeting her with open arms and rushing her to their dinner table to stuff her full of the sweet treats he had minutes before been denied. Begging him to go check up on her when things headed south. Things had changed. Odelia ran a bit colder from what she did when she was younger, but Cecilia fed and doted over her all the same.

When Perry’s girl, Rebecca, turned up missing it got harder for Odelia to make the weekly egg delivery. She nearly couldn’t bring herself to witness the ache within the house that once and still did echoed in her own. But, it was her duty. Her duty to muffle the selfish pain in order to provide the Abbott family their order of a dozen eggs. They had their own coop, but Royal insisted nonetheless. Telling her each time that her hens had the best eggs in Wabang. Not telling her that he once witnessed her walking from the mailbox with a stack of bills and tears in her eyes when he was working on the fence in the north pasture.

If any of the Abbott’s truly loved the girl, it was Amy. She just had to jump up and down in joy on the front porch when she saw that green bronco pull into the drive every Sunday. Greeting Odelia with a tighter hug each time. Odelia would have to tuck the girl’s head in a little longer so as to not let her see the tears pooling in her hazel eyes. Perry saw. He saw them fall a few times too after Rebecca had gone missing.

Amy hadn’t any verbal clue that Odelia had lost her mom, but the girl wondered sometimes if the younger one somehow felt it within her.

Their relationship even softened a certain cowboy’s gruff heart. He’d catch some moments from the dining table at breakfast. Go along with Amy’s pleas to ride with him out to the north pasture when there was work needing tending to at the fence. She’d call for her, and he would lift her over barbed wire when she met them. Silently praying that a hug for her from his niece would allow her at least one good moment in her day.

He never meant to become such a stranger to Odelia. But, by the time he was long and done with her sister it had already been too late. He was no good at comfort. Nothing he could ever say would make her situation any better, so he chose silence. And she did too. He wasn’t proud of it. He especially wasn’t proud of how he stood behind that group of guys back in school. Hands in his pockets when they pointed a cruel joke at Odelia when they should’ve been around their necks. At that age the only way he knew of getting into the riding crowd was to be uncomfortably stuck up the asses of ignorant teenage boys.

He still shivers when he thinks about what his Ma would do to him if she knew he were the reason she didn’t come around for months. Had her worried sick, riding out to Odelia’s house on the third week. She didn’t tell her the truth, and he never took her for much of a liar. He hears from his mom that Cash, her horse, just had a bad hoof. He knows he saw Odelia and Cash that same morning when he was driving out to the feed store.

He refused to hardly lay eyes on Layla anymore. Not even when she was practically begging him to fuck her under the stands at the Rodeo. He finds himself thinking of Odelia more often than he’d like to admit to anyone. The red halo around her head, the scar on her face from when she would climb through barbed wire to get to his house as a child, the night she caught him sneaking into Layla’s room. He still can’t decide what emotion she held that night, but he thinks it oughta been betrayal.

Not that he had been aware of her tortuous crush on him. He had been oblivious to her loving tendencies at the age of fourteen. How she would shove one of his Ma’s apple fritters into her pocket, giving it to him when they were no longer under Cecilia’s gaze. Always being the first one to check his body for injury when he took a stumble. Still, he could only compare those actions to those of a sister he never had.

While Odelia had found him as a friend at that age, she still remained shy around him. Unlike Layla with her winks and lifting of her skirt in his presence. He had just always figured that Odelia didn’t feel as close to him as he did to her. So, he found a new and different type of friend in her older sister. Luke Tillerson lost his virginity at fourteen, why shouldn’t he be capable of doing that?

He had unintentionally done to Odelia what others had been doing her whole life. Not choosing her.

&

Sunday comes around quicker than it usually does. She’s not sure if that is due to dread or anticipation. Possibly both.

Her days tend to blur when there is more work to be done, but she knows it’s Sunday because she is awoken by the smell of biscuits and the sound of singing from the kitchen. It had become a routine for Daisy to make breakfast on the holy day, singing hymns while she flipped eggs. Odelia had lost her faith a long time ago, and figured her baby sister would too when she came of age. Sure enough when Odelia trudged into the kitchen with one sock a little lower than the other, Daisy was wearing her church dress.

“Morning Odie,” The girl said through a hum. “How’d you sleep?”

“Same as always, lying down.” Odelia stole a biscuit that hadn’t been thrown into gravy from the pan. Earning her a slap with the towel and her favorite teen a kiss on the cheek. “What about you, hun?”

“I slept okay, I had a silly dream.” Daisy spoke as she moved the food to the small dining room table, it had shrunk when Anna moved out and Layla started coming home late into the night, or really not at all. They ate while sharing their dreams.

It wasn’t long until it was time to get in the truck and pay the Abbott’s their usual Sunday morning visit. Odelia to deliver the eggs, and Daisy to catch a ride to church. When they pulled in Amy had been waiting on the porch with a large smile on her face like always.

“Odie, Odie! Grandma, Odie is here!” It was a call that Odelia didn’t think she could ever tire from hearing. Amy had rushed over to her arms immediately. Good thing she had already passed the eggs over to her sister.

“Goodmorning sunshine, what’s got you up so early?” Odelia asked each time just to hear the answer.

“I’ve been waiting on my best friend.” Amy’s wide grin turned into a fake frown, “But, now that she’s here Grandma is gonna make me go to church.”

“Don’t worry, bug.” Odelia leant down to press a kiss to the girls crown, “I know just the person to go with you.”

As if on queue, Amy noticed Daisy’s presence and rushed over to give her a hug. Odelia swiftly grabbed the eggs from her sister’s hands to avoid a mess, and let the two girls follow her as she made her way up the porch. She knocked even though the family was already made well aware of her arrival. She heard a call for her from inside the house and let herself, and the two girls in.

“Oh, bless you. We just ran out.” Cecilia greeted her in the kitchen, taking the eggs from her hands and placing a kiss to her cheek. The dining table held an unfamiliar sight. All three Abbott men sat down waiting for their breakfast, something that typically occurred on special occasions.

“Mornin’ Odelia,” Royal didn’t look up from the morning paper as he greeted her, she didn’t mind one bit. They had an established relationship. Him helping her out when she needed it. Her pretending not to notice that he was anything more than a gruff old grandpa. The small smiles they shared every now and then were enough for her to know that he saw her, and enough for him to know that she was thankful for it.

Perry gave Odelia a slight wave, knowing that if he didn’t he’d have his daughter to answer to. Rhett sat stoic, seeming to pause at Odelia’s arrival. He rested his eyes on her own as a form of greeting, nodding at her gently to which she returned. His hat was on its hook. Hair unruly from a restless sleep. It seemed that all of them were in their church clothes, what a strange sight.

“Is today a holiday?” Odelia muttered outloud with a wrinkled forehead, louder than she meant to.

“Nope.” Cecilia gave her eggs a break on the stove before placing her hands on her hips and turning to Odelia. “Told them I wouldn’t cook their supper for a week. Equally dire.”

A gasp from Amy had Odelia regretting saying those words a little too loud.

“Please come Odie!” Amy looked up to her with her hands wrapped in one another, a begging motion as if Odelia held the name she was baptized under.

“Oh, I don’t know bug. I’m not necessarily in my Sunday best.” She huffed, looking down at her dirty jeans and Carhart jacket. Odie looked at the pout fall upon Amy’s face.

“Even Uncle Rhett is coming! He never comes to church.” Both Amy and Odelia’s eyes shot up to the younger Abbott, who just shrugged under the attention.

“You’ve still got…” Cecilia looked to her wrist, “45 minutes to change. We can meet you there if you need more than ‘at.”

It seemed like everyone’s eyes were on her, awaiting an answer. Odelia hadn’t stepped foot into the church in nearly seven years, not since her mother’s funeral. She gave her cross necklace to Daisy on her 16th birthday.

“Fine, but I’m buying lunch.” Odelia looked back at Cecilia pointedly until her eyes were drawn to Royal by the quiet chuckle leaving his body.

“Like we would ever let you drop a penny on us. Go get dressed, girl.” He waved her off with the Stetson in his hand. As she turned to give Amy and Daisy quick hugs she heard the unforgivable sound of a wooden chair scraping against ceramic. She didn’t turn to see which one of the boys had stood up.

Odelia didn’t have time to register the heat behind her as Rhett grabbed his hat and pushed the door open for her. Her walking past him as he softly spoke a ‘Good Morning’, eyes looking right into hers.

&

It’s just a church. It’s just a church. It’s just a church.

A mantra Odelia replayed in her head as she drove to the white building blessed by God in ways she never had been. The mantra doubled in speed as she parked her bronco. She spotted Daisy helping little Abbott out of Royal’s tall truck, she had no time to chicken out because Amy had already started running over. The sons had drove separately, but had already arrived as well. There was no out.

It didn’t take her forty five minutes to change, only twenty to fix the mess of amber curls under her hat and pull one of her old sundresses out of the closet she hadn’t touched in years. Ten to check on her father. Another ten to sit in the drivers seat and convince herself that she wouldn’t burn up upon entering the double doors. At least she impressed Amy with her appearance.

“You look like a princess.” The nine year old even opened the door for her to get out of the truck. Showing Odelia more respect than any man probably had ever in her life. Before she knew it Amy began dragging her by the wrist to show everyone, hardly giving Odelia time to shut her driver door

“I remember that dress!” Daisy pulled on the sleeves of it, before patting down the wrinkles Odelia couldn’t care to get out. Always the perfectionist. With all eyes on her she blushed profusely, cursing her genes as she felt her skin burn with embarrassment. She also felt the burning stare of a certain blue pair of eyes.

“‘S probably the nicest one I own.” Odelia looked down at herself. There were a few tears in the dress, and she couldn’t stand the way it was just low enough for everyone to see the freckles on her chest. She didn’t know of any princess that looked like this.

“Oh angel, you look wonderful,” Cecilia gently rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Rhe—”

“You look beautiful.” The cowboy’s jaw was clenched around the dip in his mouth. Even though Odelia knew he had only said it for his mother’s ears, she felt her heart jump only slightly. Only slightly.

“Thank you, Rhett.” She couldn’t meet his eyes when she said it, not wanting to see the roll of them. Not wanting to know that he didn’t mean it.

If Odelia had looked she wouldn’t have missed the softening of his eyes as they scanned her flushing body. As they both dragged their attention to anything besides each other, both became ignorant to the beaming smile on Amy’s face as she looked between them.

The congregation had seemed happy enough to see her. Pulling her into polite hugs and intruding questions about her whereabouts. She was being pestered and prodded by seventy year old Lou Ann Williams when she caught the Abbott’s and her sister standing on the second to last pew. So much for looking out for her.

She dismissed her conversation with the woman as politely as she could, pointing to the pew and smiling as she walked away. The bench was hardly long enough to hold the group of them, Royal at one end and Daisy at the other. It seemed there was only enough room for her to squeeze between Rhett and Amy. Great.

Royal stepped out upon her return, making way for her to squeeze right in. Getting past Cecilia’s small stature was no trouble. Perry leaned backwards an awful bit to let the girl through. When Odelia got to Rhett she had nearly made up her mind of turning back around to go sit with Lou Ann.

It was no secret that with age and riding bulls the younger Abbott had acquired himself quite the build. His chest poked out with his straightened back, and his height was nothing but intimidating. The smell of leather and tobacco dizzied her before she stepped in front of him. She decided that rubbing her ass on him to get by wouldn’t be so appropriate in the middle of a church. She excused herself as their chests touched, clearly taking no example from his brother on letting a lady through. His eyes flickered to hers for a brief second, but it might have been longer. Odelia had no clue.

“Sorry.” She whispered, not missing the quiet swallow of spit she got in return. She had made it to her spot, but at what cost.

She sat through the sermon. A full hour of Rhett’s denim knee touching her’s, it seems he was given just enough space to man spread. It was harder to ignore that than the shared giggles between Daisy and little Amy, who was all too happy with her conniving actions.

After final prayer had concluded, the group shuffled out the same way they shuffled in. Minus Odelia being a mere inch from meeting her hips with Rhett’s.

The sun had found it’s place in the middle of the sky, making the Wyoming fall feel that much warmer. Which made it that much easier for Odelia to conceal her blushing cheeks when she caught those blue eyes on her face.

“Meeting at the diner, Odie.” Cecilia rushed, wanting to beat the crowd.

“I’d love to, but I really gotta get home.” Odelia’s nose scrunched. “‘Ave been putting off moving the cattle for days now.”

“Nonsense, no work on the lord’s day. Rhett will help you tomorrow morning.” She turned to the truck before the girl could so much as get another word out.

“Ma—”

“Rhett Abbott. If your father doesn’t even move cattle alone what makes you think Odie should.” Cecilia turned to her son with a look that should’ve made thunder roll out of the clouds.

“I’ve done it before, Cecilia. It’s no problem, really.” Odelia raised her hands and waved both of them off, but the mother was too caught up in staring down her son to notice. Rhett’s eyes were on her though, the longer he looked at her the more he started to forget about what the hell he even had to do on a Monday morning.

“I’ll be there at 7.” His words pushed Odelia’s hands down back to her sides. All she could do was shake her head at him. Cecilia was quick to turn back and point at her next.

“You need to learn how to accept help, missy,” then back to Rhett. “And, you need to prioritize what really matters.”

What really matters.

“Yes Ma’am.” Odelia couldn’t figure out for the life of her why Rhett’s eyes never left her face.

[anonymous-dentist]

I did my civic duty! What about a post-Breaking Dawn canon spiderbit drabble? :D

It's the night of the full moon, and Cellbit is half-asleep in a hammock in the middle of the woods. It's close to midnight, and he's exhausted. The others are all out somewhere else in the woods, leaving Cellbit alone.

He yawns into his hand and lets his eyes drift shut just for a moment, because maybe his sleep schedule has almost gotten fixed since the wedding last month. Because maybe his absolute baby of a husband will pick him up and carry him to bed if they both aren't snuggling under the covers by midnight.

A howl echoes through the forest, quickly followed by four others. None of them are Roier, though, so Cellbit pretends not to pay attention. Whatever the others found is their problem, not his, and definitely not his husband's.

Cellbit sighs and lets his arm swing over the edge of the hammock, his hand lightly grazing the forest floor. Warm breaths puff against his fingers. Sneaky.

"Oh," Cellbit dramatically says, "I'm so frightened! I'm all alone in the woods, and there are monsters nearby!"

He's speaking in Spanish for the wolf's sake (however many Duolingo sessions and one-on-one lessons Roier does, the wolf is but a humble animal; it can barely understand Spain's particular dialect of Spanish most days, unfortunately for poor Maximus.)

There's a low growl, protective. A warm body presses itself against the bottom of the hammock as the beast beneath stands and bares its fangs at the world around them.

Cellbit fights a smile. "Oh, if only there was a big, strong, powerful werewolf to protect me! But I'm all alone. Even my handsome and strong husband left me behi-"

He yelps as he's tackled off of the hammock and pinned to the ground by paws the size of dinner plates. His eyes fly open and they meet the wolf's.

And then the wolf drops a destroyed and slobbery tennis ball right on Cellbit's face with a lopsided doggy grin.

The ball rolls off of Cellbit's damp and unimpressed face and onto the ground.

"Gross," Cellbit flatly says. He gives the wolf scratches behind his big floppy ears, anyway. "You're heavy, guapito. You might break me."

Roier knows better to think that, even in wolf form, so he just starts giving Cellbit face licks as if assuring him, "I'm here! You asked, and I'm here!"

Because maybe this happens every full moon. Maybe Cellbit lets Roier try and hide from him after a couple of rounds of fetch, and maybe Cellbit eventually starts playing along. It always ends with Cellbit talking about how scared and alone he is, and it always ends with him with a big heavy werewolf laying across him.

Once upon a time, Roier was embarrassed by it. He likes being romantic, and there's literally nothing romantic about anything he does when transformed. But, now, he just blushes and takes the compliments he gets every morning after when Cellbit gushes about how cute he is when he's trying to protect him.

Roier's jaws slowly close around one of Cellbit's wrists, but he doesn't bite down. Even transformed and running on instincts, he knows better... mostly because the wolf knows that it doesn't like when Cellbit cries and things cry when you bite them. (Or that's how Roier explained it, anyway.)

"Soon," Cellbit promises, and that's enough to cheer Roier up enough to start giving him puppy kisses again.

Marriage is awesome. So what if Cellbit's husband is a furry? Love is love. Some people are werewolves, and that's just fine.

[garf-lover96]

Astarion Ancunín x Julian Devorak crackship hcs

ah i see your endless comparisons between them, so i know this is not a post for too niche of an audience..... i just had this thought about them actually being together and my brain started working too fast so i just had to write it all down

disclaimers: for simplicity reasons, let's assume they meet on some ambiguous middle ground between their worlds; these are headcanons for spawn!Astarion (after killing Cazador) and upright!Julian (minus the mc i suppose) because i wanted to make them healthy and fluffy

———

a little exposition:

• they meet in a tavern (obviously!). Julian falls first and buys Astarion a drink, Astarion falls harder later on

• it takes Julian quite a bit of courting to get Astarion to agree to go on a date with him, but when he agrees, he's rewarded with the most romantic (and brilliantly planned) night of his life

• Astarion really appreciates Julian's patience and understanding when he finally opens up about his past. they exchange some stories of the hard moments in their lives

• somewhere in the middle of those comes up the fact that Astarion is a vampire which gets a "well, obviously...?" reaction from Julian. Astarion is a little embarrassed about that

• eventually, they agree to be in a relationship! they warm up to each other at a incredibly fast rate and start living together after more than a few exciting adventures together (but it doesn't mean they plan to stop going on them any time soon)

living together/relationship dynamics sillies:

• getting right into it, Julian obviously enjoys getting bitten and is more than happy to let Astarion feed on him. he asks Astarion to do it whether he's hungry or not. are you sure you don't need a snack?? absolutely sure????

• Astarion learns how to make a few simple meals for Julian. he notices when Julian forgets to eat for a longer while and wants to make sure he doesn't collapse out of starvation. he says that he's doing it only so his blood tastes better, but Julian knows he's just worried about him..

• Julian's sleep schedule is messed up as is so he definitely doesn't mind having to become nocturnal for his partner. hell, he can even stay awake for the whole 24 hours! maybe even 48 hours, occasionally. which always results in a crash and he ends up sleeping through at least 12 hours straight to make up for it

• when that happens—and Astarion has nothing better to do—he tends to just orbit around him the whole time he's asleep. he usually picks out a book and lays down close to Julian's chest so he can listen to his heartbeat while enjoying some literature

• Astarion was a little sceptical of Malak when they started living together but it turned out they actually get along quite nicely. Astarion praises him every time he steals something..

• Julian is very interested in the logistics of being a vampire, and now that he finally has the chance, he wants to know all there is to know about the topic. the lack of heartbeat, the heightened senses.. the teeth.. he gets a little giddy thinking about them. or seeing them of course

• they both get haunted by nightmares but since half of the time at least one of them is awake while the other is sleeping (or in that damn reverie when it comes to Astarion) because of their confusing sleeping patterns, they make sure to calm each other down from them. they breathe together, cuddle and mutter words of reassurance to each other

• their morbid interests go quite well together. of course, while Astarion's specific interest lies in stabbing people sometimes and Julian's lies in anatomy and the more theoretical stuff in general, Astarion actually enjoys it when Julian goes on one of his medical rants and explains in exhausting detail. for instance: why someone bleeds out faster when they get stabbed in the neck rather when they get stabbed in the stomach

• Julian is always acting as Astarion's mirror. he's there for every request and makes sure to compliment Astarion plenty whenever he gets the chance. he lives to serve and reassure. Astarion is immensely grateful for that

• they're both consent kings, they always make sure to discuss anything requiring it. they check up on each other even after agreeing to it anyway

• they absolutely love using pet names. they can barely go without using "darling", "dear" and "my love" every other sentence

• Julian teaches Astarion how to dance. it takes a little convincing, but when Astarion realizes that Julian is actually a pretty great teacher, he relaxes and lets himself be guided. now they make sure to make time for it at least once a week

• Astarion loves hearing Julian's silly stories from his travels and always asks sarcastic follow up questions. think the "oh, and were there dragons there?" kind

• even though there's a big height difference between them (5'9 and 6'4), they pick each other up all the time. Julian started it by picking Astarion up when he least expected it. but since Astarion is no longer limited by the tadpole, is eating well and Julian is skinny anyway, he's more than capable to get his revenge on him as often as possible

———

broke: Astarion and Julian are pretty similar to each other!

woke: they're actually in love and married and they kiss each other on the lips mwah mwah mwah

[highladyjane]

While we're waiting for the announcement, what's your guess for the title of the next acotar book?

Lol, you sneaky nonnie! I've seen this Ask all over my dash today yestereve (I fell asleep writing my response to this)😆 Thank you for letting me join in on the fun!

I've actually had a theory about this hiding somewhere in my drafts for a couple of months now, but I've been too lazy to dig into it because 1. Structured writing, and therefore theories, is not my forte 2. I'm a perfectionist but my mind's messy - so it's all a bit messy, 3. so I might sound like a loony... 4. and I'm too insecure about my thoughts at times to even post about what goes through it 😅

But since you Ask'd... Here's a "shorter" version of that draft, at least:

My theory is that Elain's book will have something to do with ✨️Vines✨️.

Like... A Court of ✨️🌿Golden Vines🌿✨️(which I'm leaning the most towards), ACO Twining Vines, ACO Tangled Vines, ACO Blooming Vines, ACO Shadows and Vines... etc. I'm still trying to figure out where to lay my theory 😅🤣

It may sound very Elucien or even Tamlain, but ✨️Vines✨️ are described as "a plant whose stem requires support and which climbs by tendrils or twining or creeps along the ground" which, if you read or search through the books, also hints and applies to the movement of Azriel's shadows in many instances... @wingedblooms absolutely brilliant post that I quite recently came upon, especially supports the 'Twining'... So I think it's the perfect title to confuse people about her endgame 😜

Anyways, to back up my guess/theory...

Elain's scent is of Jasmine (and Honey), which seems to be the bloom of the Night Court 👀, grows as climbing shrubs or ✨️vines✨️. But I'm feeling specifically strongly for the ✨Vines✨ because

Aaaaand because:

1. Ivy is a ✨vine✨ and Sarah has mentioned it in relation to Elain's book in an interview presented at the back of ACOFAS.

2. Nesta's drawer had flames🔥. Elain had...

🌿✨Twining Vines of flowers✨🌿

We often see the beautiful petals (Elain's softness & beauty), but we don't think about the strength, resilience, and foundation of the vines underneath and........ 👇

3. ✨️Vines✨️ symbolise:

Strength & hope & resilience = Elain's quiet strength.

Determination = Elain has shown determination to help in ways she can, but is yet to be given the chance to...

She also has shown a determined disregard and opposition to having a mate...

Connection = Goes well along with my guess on "Golden" or "Twining" Vines which are often used as adjectives in relation to bonds, threads, and even spells.

Also, Elain is an Archeron sister, Cauldron-blessed, and a Seer - connected to basically every plot and possible subplots in the books (The Cauldron ➡️ Ramiel in Illyria ➡️ Made Objects & People ➡️ The Middle & The Prison/Dusk Court ➡️ The Dread Trove ➡️ Koschei ➡️Vassa ➡️The Human Queens etc.🔁); not just for who she is and her Cauldron-given gifts and abilities, but also possibly through her LIs and family. She's the one sister left unexplored and it all leads back to her. She's basically at the beginning (She's the first sister mentioned by Feyre at the beginning of ACOTAR) and in the end (She's the last sister mentioned by Nesta at the end of ACOSF) of everything. So I don't know if that supports her book being next or last...

Life = the meaning of which also applies to her scent of Honey and "Golden" -the colour of (sun)light, honey, her eyes, her hair.

3. ✨️Vines✨️ are also mentioned/connected to the earthen powers described in CC3 that Sathia & Tristan Flynn + Bryce have, which I believe many has already theorised Elain to also have... I quite like those theories (can't remember exactly where I read them as of rn) and would like to believe that it's something the Cauldron has blessed her with since she's associated with gardening and life...

I also read somewhere in a biblical text (which I wasn't too keen to delve into tbh, so don't trust my word for it, but it's Googlable) where ✨️Golden Vine✨️was associated with Life, Rebirth, and Free Will... But if Elain turns out to be the next Messiah/Saviour/Prophet of Prythian, then it's quite perfect 🤷🏻‍♀️

So... that's sort of my take so far 🫣 Hope it makes sense to you, nonnie 😅

What's yours?

[kaiogiri]

Freedom (Poppy Playtime Fic) Ch. 1

A/N: Hello! This is the first chapter of my Poppy Playtime fic! This is also available on Wattpad so the link for that is below. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!

Wattpad link: Ch. 1

Don't look back. Don't look back. Keep going. Keep going. Run. Run. RUN!!!

Her thoughts screamed in her mind as her legs moved faster than her brain could process or comprehend. The rough panting that arose from her lungs and the exhaustion she felt couldn't outweigh the adrenaline coursing through her veins, forcing her to continue on. As she ran, the sound of a car's engine in the distance racing towards her only made her legs go even faster. 

Nadia desperately scanned her surroundings for somewhere to hide and take refuge. The location she was currently at offered no such comfort as she was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No cars, no houses, no people. Absolutely nothing or anything that could help her at the moment. Finding something, anything to hide in, was vital for her survival at the moment. 

As if her prayer was answered, an abandoned factory that looked oddly familiar to her in the near distance was spotted and without hesitation, she raced towards it. Tears continued to endlessly stream down her face as she got closer to what she hoped would be her sanctuary. This is not how she expected her day to go. All she wanted to do was go hiking in the woods and spend some time resting by the same waterfall she had gone to for years. Getting kidnapped and having to fight for her life was most certainly not on her list and she genuinely was afraid she would not survive this encounter. 

Once she was in front of the building, Nadia raced down the driveway and to the side of the building and spotted a window, wasting no time picking up some rocks and stones on the ground and using them to smash out the window. Ignoring the presence of the broken glass, she hurriedly climbed in head-first. Upon entering the building, she ducked under the window, only daring to poke her head up just enough to see outside.

Nadia's heart stopped for a moment when she saw the car that was chasing her fly down the road, seemingly unaware she had taken refuge in this building. An audible sigh of relief left her as the car continued on the road. She was safe for now. For now. 

Standing to her feet, she took a few steps into the lobby and collapsed to her knees and then to her side from sheer exhaustion. A groan left her as she turned onto her back, now staring at the ceiling as ragged pants left her overused lungs. Raising her hand slightly as she panted, she touched the wound on her neck and hissed at the slight burning feeling. Luckily for her, she was able to fight back and get away before the knife was able to cut deep enough and cause her to bleed out fatally. 

Twenty minutes felt like an eternity for her as she lay on the cold floor, getting the much-needed break she needed. Still staring at the ceiling, tears threatened to stream down her face again as she finally processed the ordeal she went through. The fear of almost having her life ripped from her was a feeling she hadn't truly felt before and she did not like how it felt. 

As her adrenaline wore off and the exhaustion slowly faded, she sat up, using her arms to hold herself up as her eyes scanned the environment around her. This place looked eerily familiar but figuring out why was impossible for her at the present moment. Using her arms as leverage, Nadia pulled herself off the ground and began to properly inspect the space around her. 

The sight of blue finally caught her attention. Her previous adrenaline didn't let her brain process the sight when she first arrived but now she could properly see and ingest her surroundings. As she approached what she believed was a statue, the appearance became more clear to her. The "statue" was tall, way taller than a typical human, and was almost twice her height. It had blue fur, big yellow hands followed by two huge beady black eyes, and a big red smile. Looking at the statue for a moment, she looked down and noticed a poster board in front of her. 

The name read "Huggy Wuggy" with a 1984 birth/start date. Looking back up at Huggy Wuggy, she immediately remembered who they were and where she was. This was the Playtime Co. Toy Factory that was abruptly abandoned ten years ago. Memories of being a child and coming to this same factory flashed through her mind. She remembered her mother constantly purchasing plushies for her from this toy factory, including Huggy Wuggy and others. Nadia also remembered that her mother and stepfather worked here and that was the sole reason she was here years ago. While her parents worked, she spent time in Playcare, not only playing with the other children but also having some school lessons here before she was old enough to officially go to public school. Playcare was essentially her daycare and then as she grew older it became her pre-K and then became her after-school daycare when she started to attend school. It was the best decision for her household as it spared the expensive cost of childcare during the work week and she was able to be around and play with other children and receive education at the same time. Nadia's mother made her happiness, socialization, and education a top priority for her child and wanted her to have a good childhood.  

Nadia also remembered that fateful day, August 8th, 1995, when her parents went missing after leaving that morning to go to work. When Nadia came home later that day, she expected her mother to pick her up and bring her back to the factory. That was the typical routine, Nadia's mother would take her lunch break later in the day so she could use that time to pick up Nadia after she got off the bus and bring her to the factory, letting her play in PlayCare until both of her parents' shifts were over later that evening. Except that's not what happened on August 8th. Her mother wasn't home when Nadia arrived and neither she nor her stepfather came home when their shifts would have ended. 

The day after their disappearance, Nadia knocked on one of the neighbor's doors and informed them her parents hadn't back come home. That day was a blur for her but she remembered the police officers that came and took her to a new house as she was now in the custody of the state. August 8th and August 9th were two detrimental days that caused her once happy joyful life to turn into a years-long hellscape in the foster care system.

Trying not to reflect too much on those awful memories, Nadia headed into a room and looked around, her eyes catching a case with a strange contraption with hands connected to it, followed by a VHS tape next to it. Picking up the tape, she inserted it in the small box TV next to it and stepped back to observe the screen. 

The tape had referred to the contraption as a "GrabPack" and noted that it could be used to open doors and operate certain mechanics in the factory. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the case and picked up the GrabPack, making a note about how it was a little bit heavy for her but nonetheless, she put the shoulder straps on and tightened it, making it fit snuggly against her chest. Slipping her hands into the GrabPack's hands, she admired it for a moment before shooting the hand out, the unexpected force sending her flying backward, nearly falling to the ground but was able to catch herself before doing so. She decided to spend a couple of minutes getting used to the GrabPack as she deemed it necessary to get around the factory. 

After she felt comfortable enough using the GrabPack, Nadia went into another room, using one of the hands to open the door and enter. Eyes scanning the room, she saw machines and assembly lines, quickly figuring out this was the production zone for making the famous toys Playtime Co. was successful for. The thought of making her own toy to take as a souvenir crossed her mind and she wasn't hesitant in making that happen if it was possible.

The time it took to figure out the systems and how the machines worked made her feel slightly embarrassed but alas, she figured it out and a small smile formed as she held the "Candy Cat" plush in her hand and headed towards a different door. It did take her a moment to figure out that the security system involved in opening the door required placing the toy in a case to unlock it. As the door opened, Nadia turned to grab the toy back but a flash of blue appeared down the hallway and she turned to look. 

To her horror, the once Huggy Wuggy "statue" she met in the lobby was standing right there in front of her. Her eyes widened as she realized this wasn't a statue, it was a living, breathing toy. How? She had no clue. Although she was in shock, Nadia went to say something, a greeting, or something to acknowledge his presence but froze Huggy's eyes trailed to the still-fresh wound on her neck. There was a moment of silence before literal hell broke loose.

Before she could properly react or say anything, Huggy's mouth opened, exposing razor-sharp teeth as he lunged towards Nadia, causing her to scream in horror and fear, her legs and body turning around and running before her brain could process it. 

Frantic eyes scanned the room for a possible exit as she ran, only finding an opening to a vent as an escape exit. Not thinking twice, she made her way into the vent and ran as fast as she could, her speed and adrenaline increasing as Huggy followed her into the vent, desperate to catch her. She had no idea why he was chasing her but she wasn't going to wait around to find out. 

What she was going through felt like mouse chase #2 to her as she raced her way through the vents, taking sharp turns trying to elude Huggy which obviously did not work as he was still trailing dangerously close behind her. Tears began to stream down her cheeks again out of fear as she tried to comprehend how she was in this situation, running for her life for the second time today. To say Nadia was terrified was a brutal understatement. Believing she was going to die coursed through her and only made her adrenaline worse. She just wanted to go home and continue to live her life, not die in an abandoned toy factory after she had already been forced to run for her life. This was not fair. 

The exit from the vents finally appeared and she ran out, figuring out very quickly she was on a catwalk platform with Huggy still chasing behind her. Glancing over the edge, she took note of how far the drop was and for a moment, seriously contemplated jumping over. As insane and drastic as that idea was, in her frantic mind, she believed falling to her death would be more swift than whatever Huggy was going to do if he caught her. 

But before she could jump over, she noticed a box above her on the upper catwalk. Thinking she could slow him down, she hurriedly turned around and used one of the GrabPack's hands to knock the box down, as she saw Huggy getting dangerously closer to her. 

As if fate intervened, Huggy Wuggy went to lunge and grab her but was stopped as the box came tumbling down, the force of it snapping the catwalk, sending him falling straight down. Watching in horror, Nadia watched as Huggy hit multiple pipes on the way down, leaving a red blood stain on everything he came into contact with before finally hitting the ground, the impact sound booming in this section of the factory. Glancing over the side, she covered her mouth in shock as she saw Huggy's now lifeless body lying on the floor possibly hundreds of feet below her.

Nadia dropped to her knees and sobbed, her brain going into overdrive from all the trauma and events she just experienced. She began to go into a panic attack, hyperventilating over what happened, and grasped the sides of her head in panic. She killed him. He's dead because of her. Granted, he was desperate to kill her first but she wasn't trying to kill him. Just getting away and getting out of the factory was all she wanted. Now, she was trapped in here and lost deep inside the factory, knowing she wouldn't be able to get out on her own. 

Finally standing back up and wiping her tears, Nadia continued down the catwalk and stopped at the entrance of a door with a red poppy flower painted on the door and walls around it. Stepping inside, Nadia made the smart choice of locking the door, hoping that would provide her sanctuary and safety for now. Inside the room looked similar to a house with a living room and what looked like rooms connecting to it.

As she made her way to the old couch, she slumped onto it on her side, staring at the wall in front of her as breathly pants left her. Exhaustion crept up on Nadia as her eyes became too heavy to force open and found herself unwillingly fading into unconsciousness. This entire ordeal literally caused her to pass out from both the mental and physical exhaustion she suffered. 

At least for now in the moment, she was safe. How long she would be was a question she couldn't answer, but for now, she accepted the peace of slumber. For now, she was safe and protected.