#she's all over the emotional spectrum here

[simplyavatrice]

ava + every episode - episode 3: "ephesians 6:11"

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖

You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.

{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}

MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.

You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.

The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.

Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”

You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?

“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  

You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.

Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.

You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.

Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.

You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.

“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 

“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.

Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.

The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.

“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”

You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.

“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”

You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”

Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?

He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.

He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?

”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.

Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.

His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 

“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”

He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 

“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”

Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.

There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.

“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.

You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”

Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.

Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?

“I never got to thank you.”

His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”

You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”

“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.

“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”

Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”

No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”

Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.

“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.

Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 

Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.

If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 

He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 

He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.

Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.

When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 

“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.

“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 

You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”

“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”

“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”

“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”

“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”

“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”

“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”

“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”

Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”

Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.

You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”

His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 

“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”

Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.

Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you

Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 

You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 

That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.

The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.

What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?

The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 

He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”

You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”

Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”

Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 

“Why are you working?”

“Why are you swimming?”

“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.

Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”

You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.

“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”

“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”

Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.

His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.

When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.

You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 

Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 

Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…

You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.

“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 

“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”

“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.

“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.

With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”

Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”

Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”

You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?

He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”

“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?

“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.

On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”

Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 

You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.

Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.

Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.

Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”

You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.

Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.

A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.

“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”

He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”

You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”

“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”

Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.

Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 

You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 

He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”

“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”

Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”

Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”

You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”

“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”

Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.

“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.

“Why would I do that?”

Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”

“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”

Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”

You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”

“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”

“Angel!”

“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”

“ANGEL.”

He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”

Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”

Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”

“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.

He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 

You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am

.

Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.

“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”

Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”

“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”

Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”

You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.

He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 

Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”

“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.

 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.

You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.

You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.

“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.

Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”

You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”

He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.

“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.

Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 

The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”

A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 

“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.

Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”

A hum, “He was a bad man.”

His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?

You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”

“Who says he was bad?”

Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”

His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 

A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”

“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.

“I wanted something more… personal.”

Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.

“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.

“For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”

“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.

He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”

A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.

“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”

How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”

“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.

You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”

He wasn’t an idiot. 

Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 

Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 

You chose to come back. 

Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 

“My little doe.”

You came home.

His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.

Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 

And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.

He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.

Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.

With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.

You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.

With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 

“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 

He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 

One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1

🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,

@luna-usagi-chan

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

[kinopio-writes]

Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• I’m also pretty sure he has rejection sensitivity

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

[incorrectbatfam]

Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Friday)

Summary | Your last day alone with Joel should mean you spend it tangled up together, making the most of those last moments you have alone with him. But there are doubts creeping into his mind about what's best and things truly do come to a head.

Word Count | 5.9K

Chapter Warnings | I cannot stress this enough - ANGST. Joel is a little mean in this one but makes up for it I promise. Consumption of food, explicit smut, rough sex, possessive sex, unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f) receiving, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, breeding kink, the briefest slice of daddy kink.

Authors Note | Well, this was hell of a rollercoaster, wasn't it? Sorry for the sheer spectrum of emotions I'm about to put you through, I can only apologise. I wanted to give a HUGE shoutout to @cupofjoel for letting me brainstorm the ideas for this chapter. Her love for these characters is inspirational and I am so grateful she helped me with these ideas. And thank you to each and every one of you that continues to support this story and who love Joel, Pretty Girl and Tommy as much as I do. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The sun is only just starting to rise when Joel wakes the next morning. There’s very little light draining in through the curtains, but he can make your face out perfectly. He thinks if he were to ever go blind, he would have looked at you so much that your face would be permanently burnt onto his brain. He can make out the curve of your cheek, the way your lips are relaxed, and the way you inhale through your nose and blow out the air through your mouth. Not snoring, per se, just another one of your quirks that he loves. Loves just like the rest of you. 

He's suspected for a while now that you felt the same as he did, that your feelings for him moved beyond the love you should have for him as your brother-in-law, that you loved him with just as much passion and ferocity that he loved you with, and that was dangerous. He tries to tell himself that it’ll be okay, that when Tommy turns up tomorrow with Joshua, he’ll slink back to the shadows, become Uncle Joel again, and only have you when he has to have you, when he buries himself inside you under the watchful eye of his brother and tries to give you another baby, but he knows it’s futile. He’s never going to be satisfied again. 

He drags a frustrated hand over his face, pulse pounding behind his eyes. He wants to roll over, drag your warm body into his and never let you go, wants to keep you here forever, but he knows he can’t be that selfish, so instead, he gently pushes himself up from the bed, lower back screaming at him as he does. He’s behaved liked a horny teenager this whole week, pretending that this bubble of you and him is what real life is like, and not only is he going to pay for it with a broken heart, but he’s also paying for it with real aches and pains shooting through his aging body. 

He drags on some clothes, leaves you sleeping soundly in bed, makes a pot of coffee and takes himself outside. He goes to sit down on the bench near the fire pit, but he’s reminded of his confession of a few nights ago. The one where he admitted he fucks another woman but can’t bear to fuck her on her back, because she’s not you. She doesn’t sound like you, but when he’s got her on all fours and he closes his eyes, he can just about convince himself that his cock is dragging in and out of your pussy instead. She’s a nice woman, he doesn’t deny it, and he knows he’s fucking her over by keeping her hanging. He makes a mental note to call her when he gets back and call things off. 

His feet take him to the water’s edge, where he thinks back to yesterday, pressing you against that wood of the jetty, fucking into you, even though he knows you were sore, because you were just that desperate for him, that desperate for another child. He almost walks away to find somewhere else to sit, but then realises this entire fucking place is just full of the memories of him and you, he’s not going to find somewhere that you don’t permeate his thoughts. 

He sits on the gravel of the shore, listening as the wind brings gentle waves of the lake crashing near him. The warmth of the coffee mug is burning into his skin, but he doesn’t move to set it down – the pain reminds him that he’s alive, that he can feel things. He just doesn’t know what to do with it. 

He thinks about Tommy. About how he trusted him with this sacred thing, with holding and touching his wife to give them a family, to give them their dream, and how he took that trust in his hand and fucking crumbled it to dust, falling in love with her and letting her fall in love with him. He thinks it’s kind of poetic really, because ever since they were boys, growing up in Texas with their parents, they’ve shared mostly everything. Bedrooms, cars, the weight of their parent’s dying, looking after Sarah when she was younger and her mom had left, and they’d done it without falling out, without ruining their relationship. Now, the one thing they really shouldn’t have shared is going to change it all. He’s convinced when Tommy see’s the two of them he’s going to know something has changed, he’s going to be angry, he’s going to take you back for himself and that’ll be it, so he has to do it first. Joel cannot lose his brother, cannot lose this part of his family that means so much to him. 

Despite you saying you could fix it, that you had a plan, that he would trust you, he just cannot see it, cannot see a way where someone doesn’t get hurt. He’s the big brother here, the one who should be sensible, so he knows this is it. He’ll give you this baby and that’ll be it, because if he continues to cash in this one night he gets to have with you a year, he’s only going to end up hurting you both, hanging on to this hope that maybe, one day, he’ll have more. He has to be the bigger man, so no matter how much it’s going to hurt, he’s got to give you up. 

When you wake, much like yesterday morning, you’re alone. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, arms under the covers, but unlike yesterday, Joel’s side of the bed is cold, which means he’s been awake for much longer than he had been yesterday. You roll onto your back, listening out for any sign of him, the padding of his feet in the kitchen, the sound of the shower in the bathroom, but it’s silent, save for the rustling of the trees in the wind from outside. 

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking back to last night. To the way you’d opened your heart to him, finally. God, you loved him something fierce. Loved him in a way that made you hurt. You finally said it out loud, spoke the love you felt to him into existence. Whenever you’ve said it before, you could almost convince yourself that it was the kind of love it should have been, familial and warm, but there was no denying it anymore. This love was like fire, burning inside you, threatening to burn out of control if you didn’t do something about it. 

Joel had placed his heart in your hands, asked you not to break his heart, and by God you were going to try and keep it whole. Cradle it in your hands, nurture it, keep it safe. The plan was tenuous at best and you knew it, but Tommy needed to know. You had to tell him. You would, before this week was out, you were going to fix this. 

You had one more day though, one more day of being wrapped up with Joel, and you’d be damned if you were going to waste it. You drag yourself out of bed, picking out some comfortable clothes – one of Joel’s t-shirts that smells like him, and your sweatpants. You head to the kitchen, there’s still no sign of Joel. You pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot, tip some creamer into it, when you spot him. 

He's stood at the edge of the water, skimming stones across the lake. His broad frame sticking out against the foliage and the water. Almost like he can sense you’re watching him, he turns around. You smile over the lip of your coffee mug, raising a hand to wave at him, but he doesn’t wave back, just turns back around and continues skimming stones across the water. 

It hurts, the cold shoulder he gives you. After spilling your hearts to one another last night, the way he fucked you like you were the last person on earth and your time was running out, and now this? You suck in a deep breath, damping down the flare of anger that spreads through you. He doesn’t get to do this, you think, not now, not today. You finish your coffee, eyes still trained on the way his back pulls and flexes as he throws his stones. Maybe he just needs time, is what you think, some space, where you aren’t constantly crowding him, constantly in his presence. 

You settle on the couch, TV playing low for background noise as you try and focus on the book you’re reading. You think you lie there for hours, watching the sun move across the sky, but he still doesn’t come to you. 

Your stomach growls and you think if you’re hungry, he must be as well, so you make BLT sandwiches, his favourite, and you take them down to the shore where he’s just sitting, looking out onto the water. You sit down next to him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but with enough distance to not crowd his space. You hand the plate to him, and thankfully he takes it, setting it between his feet, picking up one half of the sandwich to start eating.

It's silent except for the sound of you both eating and for the first time ever, it’s a little awkward. Not the usual, comfortable silence where neither of you have anything to say but are content to just be in each other’s company. You both have plenty to say to each other and you both know it as well, but neither of you want to make the first move. 

“You alright?” You ask softly, deciding it’s better to just get this over and done with. 

His response is short, “I’m fine.” 

You sigh, frustration bubbling under your skin, “You certainly don’t seem fine.” 

“I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.” He won’t look at you, eyes continuing to face to water. 

“The right thing,” You scoff, shaking your head, “What happened to trusting me?” 

He’s quiet for a moment and you’re sure if you listened hard enough you could hear his brain working to come up with his answer, “It just ain’t right,” He speaks quietly, “You ain’t mine to keep.” 

“You’ve changed your tune,” You hiss, “I hate to break it to you Joel, but that isn’t just your decision to make, there’s two of us here.” 

“I’m tryin’ to make it easier, make sure no-one gets hurt.” 

“You’re hurting me right now,” You point out, because he is, this distance is cleaving you in two, “And you’re going to hurt yourself too,” You reach out and touch his arm with your hand, glad that he doesn’t flinch away from you, “The only person who doesn’t get hurt is Tommy if you keep going like this.” 

“You’ll be okay though,” He mumbles, placing his big hand over your own on his arm, “He’s good to you, you’ve got your family, you don’t need me.” 

“Stop it!” You wail, “Don’t say that about yourself,” Lifting yourself to your knees next to him, hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at you, “I will always need you Joel, do you understand me?” You grab his chin in your hand, tugging him to look at you, his eyes just as glassy as your own, “Why are you doing this?” 

“What’s your master plan, huh?” He asks, suddenly talking louder, more commanding, “You gonna ask him to share you? Let his brother have you whenever he wants? That how you’re gonna fix this?” 

“Don’t fucking patronise me,” You accuse, pushing him with your hands, using the momentum so you can stand, “You promised to trust me Joel, promised me you’d let me fix this, what happened to that?” 

“I just don’t see how we could ever fix this.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” You spit, “For once in your life could you stand to make yourself happy?!” 

“Not if it means hurtin’ Tommy,” He shakes his head, “Should never’a let ourselves get so caught up in this.” 

“Joel, stop it,” You’re crying now, because it sounds like he’s telling you this is it, that he’s through, that it’s been a mistake, that he regrets it, and you can’t bear that, he’s standing up now too, towering over you, “I love you, doesn’t that mean anything?” 

“Of course it does,” He murmurs, “I love you too, but it was never meant to happen like this, we were never meant to love each other this much.” 

“So that’s it, we break our hearts because you’re scared to ask for what you want?” You sniffle, trying to dampen down your tears, keep things together, “Scared to let me fight for us?” 

“There ain’t no way any good is going to come from this.” He motions his hand between the two of you.

It’s like a punch to the gut when the words leave his mouth, because it’s a total lie. Your beautiful son came from this. The happiest years of your life came from this, and you’re pretty sure Joel’s happiest years came from this too. 

“So that’s it then?” 

He doesn’t answer this time, just shakes his head and sighs, moving to turn away from you, so you swivel on your heel, rubbing your hands furiously over your cheeks to wipe away your tears. You make sure to slam the door to the lodge behind you, sure that Joel can hear your anger. You walk straight through the lodge and into the bedroom, throwing yourself down on the bed, face planted in his pillow. 

You wrap your arms around it, taking in a single deep breath of his scent before you scream into the pillow, sobs soon following as you let out your frustration and anger and heartbreak. Why did life have to do this to you? Why did it have to throw you down this path, desperate to have a family with a man who simply couldn’t? In this moment you curse Tommy for suggesting this whole stupid fucking arrangement and for being so kind and understanding and only ever wanting to make you and his brother happy. Curse your own heart for being so easy to fall, eager to love, and you curse Joel Miller for taking that easy and eager heart and being reckless with it. He asked you not to break his heart, yet here he is breaking yours. 

Joel knew almost immediately he’d fucked up. The way your bottom lip had wobbled as you turned to walk away from him, the way you slammed the door, and the way that two hours later, when the wind was too cold and he walked back to the lodge, he could still hear you crying in the bedroom. What a fucking mess he’s caused. Trying his best to not hurt anyone, and here you are, crying into a pillow because of him. 

He’d wanted nothing more than to push that door open, get down on his hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness. Take your hands in his and pray for you to forgive him. He stays in the living room, thumbing through the book you’d been reading, watching some random sports game on the tv, until he couldn’t hear you crying anymore. He’s panicking, can feel that familiar tightness in his chest at the mess he’s made, not quite sure what to do. His brain is telling him to stay where he is, to stick to the plan – it hurts now, but maybe tomorrow when Tommy and Joshua arrive, and Sarah is here, it won’t seem so bad. On the other hand though, his heart is telling him to move, to go to you, scoop you into his arms and make it all better. 

Joel Miller is a weak man where you’re concerned, and he cannot bear the hurt he’s caused, can’t stand that he’s the reason you’ve spent that last day you could have had together in tears, shut in the bedroom because he pushed you away. He stands, brain going into fix-it mode. He toasts some bread, spreads a thick layer of butter on it and covers it in jam, just like he knows you like it. He makes you a cup of tea with a splash of milk. Steeling himself outside the door, he taps his foot to it, mainly to let you know he’s coming in rather than looking for permission to enter. 

The room is faintly lit by the bedside lamp on your side of the room. You’re led on the bed, curled into a tight ball on one side. He’d have thought you were sleeping if he didn’t know you better – if he didn’t know exactly how you slept – the exact cadence of your breathing and the way your body went lax when you finally nodded off. You’re facing away from him when as he walks over, places the steaming mug and the plate of food next to the lamp. He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to grip your wrist, pulling you up like a ragdoll and into his arms. You’re a dead weight as he wraps your arms around his neck, his own resting around your back as he nuzzles his face into the warmth of your neck. 

He can’t look at you right now, knows it’ll break his heart, but he revels in the way that you tighten your arms around him. That’s a good first step, he thinks. He lets his lips press softly to the delicate skin of your neck, not in a way that it usually does when he’s trying to turn you on though. 

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl.” Is all he can really think to say in this moment, but it’s poor, and he knows it. 

He pulls away from you slightly, glancing at your face as he does. He was right, it does break his heart. The skin of your face is blotchy from the tears you’ve cried, eyes red and bloodshot, you look exhausted, and the heaviness in your bones is testament to that. He reaches over and picks up the steaming mug, holding it out to you as a sort of peace offering. You take it in your hands, blowing the steam away lightly before taking a sip, hissing when the hot liquid burns down your throat. 

In any other circumstance, he’d laugh, press a kiss to the tip of your nose and tell you to be patient, but he’s likely going to get slapped if he tries to lighten the mood like that right now, so instead, he takes one of the slices of toast, cut into a triangle and holds it to your mouth. 

You shake your head, “Not hungry.” Your voice is hoarse. 

“Just a bite,” Joel implores, “I made it just how you like it.” 

You don’t look at him, your eyes trained directly on the cup in your hand, but you nod lightly. His hand moves the slice of toast close enough to your mouth that all you need to do is lean forward and take a bite, which you do. He watches as you chew and then swallow and is quietly relieved when you lean forward and take another bite. He doesn’t force the other slice on you, leaves it where it is so you can have it if you want it. Instead, he lets his hand drop to your knee, warm and comforting as you sip at the tea again. 

You set it down on the nightstand, finally accepting it’s too hot right now, and Joel is surprised when you turn and throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, crying once again. 

“Oh pretty girl,” He coos, one hand resting at the nape of your neck to keep you anchored to him, the other around your lower back, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

He’s rocking you back and forth, gently, trying to soothe you as you cry into him, fighting back his own tears as well. He can hear you mumbling something into his shoulder, but he can’t make out what it is. 

He gently pushes you forward, “What was that, baby?” 

You shake your head, sniffle again, as a fresh wave of tears start falling, but you manage to get out what he had missed you saying earlier, before you’re falling back into the comfort of his shoulder, “I love you so much, Joel.” 

His hand is resting on the back of your head as you hold onto him tight, “I know, pretty girl, I love you too,” He dips down, lips pressed to the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” He speaks again, “Please forgive me.” 

You pull back from him, moving to wipe your tears away, but Joel moves quicker, palms resting on your cheeks as his thumbs brush away the drops from your face. He’s looking at you now, his beautiful, sad eyes, trained on your own, “Do you regret it?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, “Of course not, baby,” He leans forward, kissing your cheek softly, “I could never.” 

You try and shake your head, but his hands are keeping your face still, “Then w-why,” You falter a little, hiccupping over your words, “Why d-did you say n-nothing good could come of t-this?” 

He swallows, because he was wrong. So fucking wrong to say that, to say anything that he said to you earlier. He was frustrated but most of all he was scared, and he hurt you and now he’s not sure he can actually salvage this. 

“I was scared, pretty girl,” Joel admits, “I’m scared of how much I love you and what would happen if I can’t have you anymore, and I thought it would be easier, y’know? Easier if I just tried to pull away, get you back where you belong with Tommy, but I didn’t mean it, I promise I didn’t mean it.” 

“We made a baby,” You sniffle, “He’s something good.” 

“Oh, pretty girl, you’re breakin’ my heart,” Joel sighs, God he wants to make this better somehow, “Everythin’ about this is good, I’m just a mean old man sometimes.” 

Your hands are circling his wrists now, anchoring yourself to him, your eyes looking straight into his own, like you’re searching his very soul for any ounce of regret. He’s hoping you’ll see the truth, that he doesn’t regret this relationship with you, only his words from earlier.

“Will you let me fix this?” You ask, “Will you let me speak to Tommy?” 

“If you think it’ll help, pretty girl, I’ll let you do anythin’.” 

You seem satisfied with his answer, because all of a sudden, you’re surging forward and kissing him. Lips soft and gentle against his as he presses his hands into your face a little harder, just to make sure you’re real, that this is what you want. You open your mouth against his, letting your tongue into his mouth, his working against your own as you let out a throaty moan, swallowing it down into his own mouth as he shifts you both, laying you down onto the sheets on your back. 

“You gonna let me make it up to you, pretty girl?” He murmurs, pulling back just a touch from your mouth, “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You nod, but he doesn’t move, he’s waiting for your permission, “Please,” You whine, lifting your hips into his, feeling him already semi-hard in his pants, “Make me feel good Joel.” 

So he does. He reaches his warm hands under his shirt that you're wearing, pulling it up and over your head. Your chest is bare underneath it, you didn’t bother with a bra today, mainly because you’d imagined you’d be spending most of it naked anyway. He trails his hot mouth down from your neck, kissing the skin between the valley of your tits, before he’s sucking one into his mouth. Your fingers tangle into his curls, keeping his head right there as he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue, pulling it into a stiff peak before he lavishes it with the attention of the flat of his tongue. He pulls his mouth from you, switching sides to your other breast – callused thumb working the nipple from before as he gives the same attention to this one, all whilst you’re grinding your hips up into him, friction causing a pool of wetness to gather between your thighs. 

Once he feels like he’s worked you up enough here, he pulls away, wrapping his hands around your wrists to drag your hands to your tits. He settles your hands on them, looking up at you through hooded eyes as he drags his tongue over the skin of your tummy, “Play with them,” He demands, “Use your fingers on those perfect tits whilst I eat your pussy, pretty girl.” 

You do as you’re told, rolling your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger as he drags your sweatpants off your legs. You spread your own legs for him as he settles between you, his mouth licking gently over your folds, before he’s using two fingers to spread the lips of your pussy, baring your aching cunt to his face. 

“Dripping fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’,” He growls, biting into the soft skin of your thigh, sucking to leave a mark, “Always so fuckin’ eager for my cock, ain’t ya?” 

Fuck, you love it when he’s like this. When his need to fuck you, to mark you, takes over, when he’s possessive with you, when he’s rough with you. When he uses his mouth and teeth to mark you as his own, even if you’re not, not really, not fully. 

You buck your hips into his face, silently begging for him to make you feel good. He splays a wide palm over your tummy, pressing you down into the mattress to keep you still, as his warm tongue slips inside your hole, licking the slick that’s been gathering there for him. You get off on this, the way he laps at you, tasting you, groaning into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. He drags that perfect tongue all the way up your pussy, giving one singular flick to your clit with the tip of his tongue before he’s plunging two of his fingers into your cunt. You arch your back off the bed, crying out as he fucks you with his fingers, tip of his tongue teasingly flicking against that bundle of nerves. He’s rough with it, the way his fingers pound into you, but you don’t care. Let it hurt, is what you think, let me carry this delicious pain and ache with me for days so I can remember him like this. 

He's pushing you so fast towards that edge. That knot that is pulled so tight inside you threatening to push you over the edge as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. 

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim, hands squeezing at your tits, “Joel, I’m-” You let out a high-pitched squeal, muscles clenching around his fingers, “Gonna come.” 

He doesn’t bother to respond to you, just carries on exactly as he is until you’re literally screaming his name into the room. You push down onto his fingers and finally feel that tight rope snap inside of you, pleasure bursting at the base of your spine, throttling through the rest of your body like wildfire. You’re half aware of the fact you’re soaking the sheets as you continue to writhe your hips against his mouth. He’s pulling away from you, slipping his fingers from you, chuckling in that way that he does when he’s proud of himself. 

“Fuckin’ love when you squirt for me, pretty girl,” He growls against the skin of your tummy as he trails his mouth back up your body, he’s pushing the two fingers he had inside you past your lips when he’s level with your face, smirking as you clean yourself off him, “Gonna let me fuck you now?” He asks, you moan in response around his fingers, “Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl, give you all the babies you want.” 

He pulls back enough to drag his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him, pushing his own sweatpants down his legs, kicking them off to the bottom of the bed, letting his throbbing cock free. He’s settling between your thighs, your own hand reaching down to grip him, guiding him to your aching cunt. He swats your hand away, hands gripping the headboard above you as he pushes into you. 

You let out a gasp as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. He never fails to take your breath away when he’s inside you, slotting into you perfectly, stretching you just right. You’re so full of him, his body crowding over you from above as he starts dragging himself in and out of you. It’s rough, and it’s fast, he’s desperately trying to tell you that he’s sorry, that he’s built just for this, put on this earth to give you everything you wanted whilst making you feel good. 

“I can’t,” Joel chokes out, “I can’t be gentle with you, pretty girl.” 

You know, because he’s splitting you right open down the middle, both hands gripping the headboard as his hips slam into yours. He’s so fucking deep, his cock punching right into the depths of you. Your hands, settled on his sides, grind into his skin, nails digging in so hard you’re sure you’re going to puncture his skin, draw blood. 

“D-don’t care Joel,” You manage to speak, before a particularly loud wail leaves your mouth, “Just… don’t fucking stop.” 

And he doesn’t. Looking up at him, he’s like a man possessed. He’s fucking you so hard, so good, that you’re crying, tears of mixed pleasure and pain rolling down your cheeks as he tries to prove how sorry he really is, how much he regrets what he did, what he’s said. He was a fool to think he could get away with his attitude, and he will stay here, cock buried inside you for as long as he must to prove his remorse to you.

His low, rough grunts are mixing with your needy moans. He drops down, body pressed right to yours. He finds your hands at his sides, brings them up above your head, his fingers tangled in your own as his mouth bites and sucks at the skin of your neck, along your collarbone, leaving marks across your perfect skin, marking you as his own. 

“You my good girl?” He rasps into your ear, breath hot against you as he uses his tongue to literally lick the salty tears from your face, “Cryin’ on my cock like a good girl, huh?” 

“A-always Joel,” You mewl as he shifts your bodies slightly, his cock brushing against that spot inside you, making you cry out, “Always your good girl.” 

“I know you are, pretty girl,” He grunts into your ear, “Mine, aren’t you?” 

And you agree, because fuck it, you are. You are his. You’ve been his since the first time he knelt between your legs and asked Tommy how you liked it. You might be Tommy’s girl first, but you’re just as much Joel’s as you are Tommy’s. They both lay claim to you, both own you in some way, and you’re perfectly okay with that. 

“Fuck, Joel,” You hiss quietly, turning your head so your cheek is pressed against his where he’s settled his face in the crook of his neck, “Please,” You beg, “Please come inside me.” 

“You want me to fill you up, mama?” He asks, hips still bruising against yours, the slap of his skin on yours, the wet squelch of your pussy around him filling the room. 

“Give me my baby, daddy,” You almost whisper to him, hands squeezing his where they’re still entwined above your head, “Let go for me, Joel.” 

He pulls out of you abruptly, manhandling you with a roughness you’re not used to so you’re on your front. His hands pull at your hips, angling your ass up for him as he’s pounding straight back into you. He’s gathered your hands at the small of your back, your face pressed into the mattress. This new angle mean’s he’s driving into you in a completely different way as before, and you have to push your face further into the sheets, so your screams are muffled. Joel doesn’t like that though, his drags his fingers through your hair, fisting it tightly, pulling you up, so your screams of pleasure are echoing around the room. 

“Don’t you dare,” He growls, “Don’t you dare hide these sounds from me, pretty girl.” 

This angle is new. Your hands are gathered in one of his at your back, his other hand tangled in your hair means you’re arched off the bed for him, and you think if you could reach a hand down, you’d be able to feel him in your stomach he’s so fucking deep inside you. 

It happens all of a sudden, he’s so fucking still, but you can feel him pouring himself into you, you can hear him spitting your name and a string of profanities as he lets go of the tight grip he has on your hair. He’s buried so deep inside you, his front draped over your back, the entire weight of him on your body, but he’s trying to push himself deeper into you, trying to get what he’s just planted inside of you to take. He’s just as desperate as you are for this, to see you swell with his baby again. 

Once his brain is working again, he slips from inside of you, collapsing onto the bed on his back, dragging you with him. He pulls you so close, his thighs spread wide so your body fits between them, your front pressed against his as you drape you entire self on him. He grabs your hands, bringing the wrists he was just gripping to his lips, kissing softly at the skin to soothe you. 

“Too much?” He mumbles into the top of your head, his chest heaving against yours as you both try and catch your breath.

“Just enough.” You mumble back into the sweat-soaked skin of his chest. 

It’s silent for a moment, both of you drifting in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, but he speaks again as he wraps those arms around you, anchoring you right where you are, “I will spend the rest of my life proving how sorry I am to you.” 

“I believe you,” You muse, “I will always believe you.” 

And that’s how you both fall asleep, his arms cradling you to his body. He wishes that he could freeze time, enjoy this for longer than the few seconds he has before you fall asleep. He’s sick of your time always running out, of that ticking clock counting down to the unknown. He has no idea what’s going to happen once this weekend is over. Has no idea what you’re going to say to Tommy, what you’re going to propose to him. He’s never been good at relinquishing control, especially when he can’t for the life of him tell what’s going to happen. But, if there’s one thing he does know, it’s that what he said to you last night is true. That he trusts you with his life, and he will follow you blindly into whatever abyss you’re going to drag him into. 

[sodamnradd]

4 times Draco & Hermione flirt with other people + 1 time they admit it’s driving them spare.

So Draco’s flirting with some hyper-blonde at the bar. So she’s draped all over him. So he just checked out her tits—Literally nobody could care less than Hermione does.

“It’s fine,” she says, steering Ginny to the opposite side of the bar. “We hooked up once. It wasn’t serious.”

“Yeah, but we all thought he was obsessed with you.” Ginny scowls in Malfoy’s direction. “Harry says he can’t shut up about you…” Her voice falters, and Hermione follows Ginny’s gaze to where Draco’s unlatching the woman’s arms from around his neck. His eyes are locked firmly on Hermione.

“Granger.” He slips beside her moments later, casting a swift kiss on her cheek. “You came.”

He laces their fingers together, pressing his chest to her spine, and whispers into her ear, “Dance with me,” breath tinged with firewhisky.

Ginny rolls her eyes as Hermione downs a quick shot of tequila and lets Malfoy lure her away.

Hermione shrugs and mouths, “We’re having fun.”

“Isn’t that wanker fifty or some shite?” Draco lowers his spoon, watching Hermione on the opposite side of the canteen, giggling like she’s drunk on Amortentia.

Harry says, “Apparently the term is ‘Silver Fox’. Something to look forward to in a few decades, I suppose.”

“I didn’t realize that’s what Granger’s into.” Draco pushes his tray back, appetite gone.

Harry snorts.

“What?”

“She’s into you, you know.”

He’s desperate to prod Potter for more information, but he’s only slept with Granger twice, so they’re not serious. Explosive doesn’t mean serious, right? That’s what makes it explosive. That enigmatic ‘what if?’ hanging in the air during each encounter.

Draco looks on dejectedly, wondering if he’d prefer exclusive over explosive.

Seven times.

They have slept together seven times, and Draco is still acting like a total wanker, training that new Auror like it’s perfectly dignified to put his hands on her waist to adjust her posture. The girl is blushing so hard Hermione’s suffering from second-hand embarrassment just witnessing it.

Who can blame her? She knows how it feels to be trapped beneath the weight of that intense gaze. She also knows what they look like at the peak of climax. He looks at Hermione with more heat. But there’s no denying the glimmer of interest as he teaches the trainee basic self-defence charms. Damn him.

She slams the gymnasium door shut without looking back.

You can’t have breakup sex if you were never even together, right? But Draco swears there was something final about their last time.

Granger’s face is usually brimming with emotion, but once he helps her off the kitchen island, she goes cold. Detached. All the fire from their eighth time vanishes, and Draco is left wishing for something he thought he already had.

The next evening, she shows up to Potter’s birthday clutching Goldstein’s arm.

What the actual fuck? Is she sleeping with him, too? On the grand spectrum of Ministry blonds, what a prosaic downgrade.

Their eyes meet across the dinner table.

‘Meet me upstairs?’ mouths Draco, gut twisted a hundred times over.

Hermione hops onto the bathroom counter as Draco locks the door behind them.

“Why are you here with another bloke?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“Why are you flirting with trainees?” she fires back.

“Why are you chasing Silver Foxes?”

Heat crawls up Hermione’s neck. “Who taught you that?”

“Am I not good enough or something?”

“Clearly it’s the other way around.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Draco straightens out. “I can’t get enough of you, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Yes, but I’m not the only one.”

“But you are.”

Hermione pauses, flabbergasted. “You’ve been flirting with other people while you’ve been sleeping with me.”

“So have you.”

“Only because you were.”

“Because you were.”

“Oh my Gods.” Hermione huffs out an exaggerated sigh. “This is going absolutely nowhere.”

“You’re right,” Draco replies. “We’re making no progress, you and me.”

Hermione nods, sadness creeping into her eyes. “I guess that’s that.”

“What? No.” Draco steps forward, blanching. “Do you really mean that?”

“I don’t know. What else is there?”

“Exclusivity,” suggests Draco, point-blank.

“You don’t want that.”

“Says who?”

“Your reputation.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire office thinks I’m obsessed with you.” When Hermione doesn’t respond, having heard that rumour herself, Draco clears his throat and adds, “They might not be wrong.”

“Were you really only flirting with other people because I was because you were?”

He takes a second to reflect, but ultimately shakes his head. “I have no idea what you just said, but how about it? You and me. No trainees. No silver foxes.”

“No hyper-blondes at bars.”

“Course not,” he replies, pretending like he knows what she means. “And no dirty blonds at dinner parties.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Draco grins, stepping forward to seal the deal.

Later, Draco’s relieved to discover exclusivity is just as explosive as the enigmatic ‘what if?’ Better even, because Granger is finally, without an inkling of doubt, his.

(854 words, cross-posted from twitter)

[hbyrde36]

Honey, You're Familiar

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild Hozier Project

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

WC limit: 3000 | Song prompt: From Eden by Hozier

Rating: G | WC: 2998 | also on ao3

Steve and Eddie had been best friends since The Beginning. 

From the moment angels were blinked into existence, in a flurry of wide powerful wings and otherworldly beauty, they were inseparable, happy, right up until God made something new. 

Humans.

Curious creatures with souls and hearts capable of a full spectrum of emotions, given the one thing angels had been denied. 

Free will. 

Eddie hated them. Part of their job as angels was to watch over these new creations, but the more they watched, the more withdrawn Eddie became. 

He claimed God favored them, these beings who hardly knew of divine existence and whose lifespans were so short they barely mattered in the grand scheme of things. Steve disagreed, arguing that God didn’t play favorites, and surely, even if They did, the angels who’d been gifted with power and immortality were the preferred children. 

They debated about it– a lot, until friendly arguments turned into shouting matches. 

Was this anger?

This unpleasant thing that served no purpose except to make Eddie fly away from him in a huff. Was it sorrow that made his friend’s eyes shimmer, his lips turn down in that awful way? 

Eddie was changing, and Steve didn’t know what to do. He much preferred the days when they could laugh and smile together. It always left him feeling warm inside.

“You envy them.” Steve accused one day when Eddie was especially prickly. “Why? Is it not enough to be as you are and live here in Heaven with God? With me?”

“No! It’s not enough!” 

Eddie’s hands wound into his own hair and pulled, as if he’d tear it out from the root. “Why do they get the freedom to form such relationships? Why do they get to have it, and I don’t?!”

Steve tilted his head, perplexed. “To have what?”

“Love!”

“But, you do.” Steve said, still not understanding. “God loves us, and we love Them.”

Eddie sighed mournfully, all the fight draining out of him at once. “It’s not their love I ache for, Steve.”

It was no surprise when Eddie sided with Lucifer in the war and consequently fell from Heaven. Steve was there when it happened, forced to bear witness to the first and greatest loss he’d ever known. 

He was… sad, when Eddie was gone. 

Steve tried to pretend otherwise, but whenever he was alone and he thought of how he would never see his friend again, his eyes leaked and he would feel a terrible pain in his chest. 

Was he broken? 

He hadn’t thought angels were capable of such sentiments, but that couldn’t be true. Eddie’d had these things, feelings. They were what led him on his doomed path.

It was possible, it just wasn’t allowed.

He did his best to go on as before. It was difficult, nearly impossible sometimes, but it all became easier when a new flock of angels was made to replace their numbers, and Robin came barreling into his life. 

Part of him wanted to resist, to keep the space next to him forever empty, preserving the memory of who’d been there before, but he’d been alone for so long. 

Robin grew on him, and they quickly became close. While she could never replace Eddie, their friendship went a long way in filling the hole losing him had left behind. 

They complimented each other well. Where Steve was quiet and contemplative these days, Robin talked almost constantly. Not one to sit in silence, she always preferred to fill it. 

Just like Eddie. 

They were quite alike actually, Eddie and Robin. Steve couldn't help thinking that if they’d ever met they would’ve become fast friends, or killed one another. 

Things were ok for a while, Steve managed, until he was sent to Earth for the first time. He begged Robin to come along, nervous to walk amongst the humans when he’d only ever watched from afar, but she wasn’t allowed. 

Guardian angel for a day. An easy job, mostly watching and waiting, ensuring his charge remained safe. In all likelihood, he wouldn’t even be needed. 

The human in question was a kind older man, who ran a small coffee counter in a park, in a city Steve couldn't remember the name of. He ordered a drink and took a seat, doing his best to go unnoticed.

He observed much over the course of the day. Joyous reunions and somber goodbyes. First kisses and last kisses, and not one but two chance meetings where sparks flew. It was a magical thing to see someone find their soulmate. 

Steve returned to Heaven with a heavy heart. 

It'd been a very long time since their last conversation, but he could still hear Eddie’s voice… how resigned it had sounded, how devastated, when he’d looked at him and said “It’s not their love I ache for.” 

Finally, he got it. Eddie had loved him. 

Steve loved Eddie too, though he hadn’t realized it back then, so caught up in what they were supposed to be. He’d witnessed it up close now, love. Recognized it and the power it held, even as it made the wielder feel powerless. 

It was agony. 

Unable to hold it in anymore, he told Robin. 

It was probably the most words he’d ever said to her at once. He didn’t mention Eddie’s name, or admit whether the object of his desire was angel or otherwise. He didn’t want to rebel, but he couldn’t continue on as if nothing had changed. Couldn’t live the lie anymore. He was supposed to love only God, and it simply wasn’t true. 

Robin said he should talk to God, convinced that They had grown softer since the fall. Steve wasn’t so sure about that but he trusted her, and had little choice.

Thankfully, she’d been right. God was understanding, in Their way, and not wishing to see Steve so unhappy decided to gift him– a chance.   

He didn’t know what it meant, and that was as ominous as it was thrilling. It had felt a little too easy, in the end. All he knew was he was bound for earth, and as he prepared for the journey he could only wonder what the catch would be.

Steve woke up feeling like he’d been having the strangest dream. He couldn't recall the details apart from a beautiful boy’s face framed in soft dark curls, but wasn’t that always the way? 

He hopped out of bed with a spring in his step. It was a big day, the grand opening of his and Robin’s new coffee shop and he couldn't wait to greet their first customers.

Eddie cut ties with Lucifer shortly after the fall, uninterested in trading one leader demanding blind faith and allegiance for another. 

He was still a demon, technically, as were all who fell, but although he hated humans, he had no desire to harm them. 

He wasn’t evil, he was angry. 

At them, at God, even Steve, but mostly at himself. 

He’d let his feelings overtake his sense, and in his effort to fight for more he’d somehow wound up with less, only managing to get himself banished– sent as far away from the one he loved as it was possible to be. 

Eddie didn’t spend much time on Earth, still too bitter. He wasn’t exactly welcome in Hell either, but over the years had found his fair share of quiet corners to inhabit. 

He kept in touch with some others who’d also refused to follow Lucifer as he made the transition from fallen angel to Devil. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. They became friends, of a sort. Kept an eye on eachother, gave warnings of trouble on the horizon, and a heads up about other interesting goings-on.

Which was how Eddie found out about the first time Steve set foot on earth. 

He’d gotten rip-roaring drunk once, on a rare night where all the boys were together in one place, and spilled his guts about Steve.They teased him a little, but only in good fun. They’d had their own motivations for taking up the cause and agreed love was as good a reason as any.

When Gareth came by to say an angel had been spotted in Central Park who bared a striking resemblance to his Steve, Eddie panicked. He’d been existing as if he’d never see the angel again, because he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t, and spent many long years pushing it all down, pretending he didn’t care anymore because it was the only way he could function.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to the surface, his heart becoming a gaping wound, open to the world all over again. 

He wanted to go to him, of course he did, but it’d been eons since they last spoke. Would Steve want to see him? Would he care? Even if he did, what would it matter? 

It would change nothing.

Deciding it would be more painful to see him now and lose him all over again than to never see him at all, Eddie buried his head in the sand. By the time it hit him that regardless of the pain he’d regret not going forever, it was too late. Steve was gone, nothing but an empty cup of coffee on a table to prove he’d been there at all. 

When fate conspired only days later to give Eddie a second chance, he knew he couldn’t waste it.

He’d gotten an address from Jeff and had to huff a laugh when he spotted the place. A cute little indie coffee shop. Was Steve the fucking coffee fairy now or something?

The front of the cafe was a wall of windows, and Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as he spotted Steve through the glass. He froze with his hand on the door, unsure if he was ready to face whatever was about to happen. 

Steve stood behind the counter next to a girl with a mischievous smile, laughing raucously at something she’d said. His eyes shone bright, and he was as beautiful as Eddie remembered– though he did miss the way his wings had framed his body. A pity angels weren't allowed to use them down here. 

Just when Eddie was building his resolve to finally go inside, Steve turned and their eyes met. The angel’s smile fell, mouth twisting into a curious expression, a wrinkle forming between his brows. 

He’d been prepared for a number of reactions, for Steve to be happy to see him, or angry and hating him, but he was wholly unprepared for Steve to look at him like that– as if he didn’t know him at all.

Eddie fled.

He didn’t run far, taking refuge in an alleyway across from the shop, well-versed in hiding in the shadows by now. 

He watched for days, unable to leave while Steve was near, but just as unable to approach him again.

In the evenings he would follow Steve home, never knowing where the girl went. Robin, as her name tag said. One second she'd be there and the next, poof, but Steve always walked to a small apartment where he’d spend the night hours alone before leaving again early the next morning.

What was he doing?

Who was his charge? 

Eddie had assumed it was Robin but the more he observed the more convinced he became that she was an angel too. 

None of it made sense. 

It all came to a head one night when he was lurking in his spot waiting for Steve to walk by, and found himself getting bodily thrown into a brick wall. A figure stepped into him, her small hand strong and firm around his throat, skin glowing ever-so-slightly with heavenly power.

Eddie raised his hands in the universal gesture for, I come in peace, and finally Robin let him go.

“What do you want, Demon?”

“I prefer Eddie, actually.”

She smirked, raising a single eyebrow. “Eddie the demon? What, you didn't want to come up with some fancy new name like all your buddies?”

They weren’t his buddies, not the demons she was referring too anyway, but she wasn't likely to believe that.

“Never been one for conformity, I guess.” Eddie grinned, stifling a laugh.

Understatement.

“Seriously, why are you watching him? What are you planning?”

“Nothing, just… looking in on an old friend. I swear.”

“Sure, you and Steve used to be friends. I’m supposed to believe you're not here to ruin his chance, attacking an old ally turned enemy now that he’s vulnerable?”

“What do you mean?”

She narrowed her eyes, considering him carefully.

“You actually don’t know, do you?” She backed away, looking him up and down. “You came to the door that first day, but never came inside. Why?”

“The way he looked, I… don’t think he remembered me.”

She snorted a laugh. 

Which Eddie did not appreciate. “Jeez, way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

“Sorry.” She said, not sorry at all. “Look, it’s nothing personal. He doesn’t remember anything. He’s human now.”

“What?! Why?”

Robin shrugged. “He wanted more. He loved another before God and They took mercy on him, sent him here for a chance at a different life.”

“Who?” Eddie gasped, reeling.

“Who, what?”

“Who did he love enough to leave Heaven for?”

“What do you care?!” She sneered, throwing her hands up. “Y’know what? Don’t answer that, It doesn’t matter. Not even I know who it is, and I'm his best friend.”

Best friend.

Eddie deflated. Had Steve replaced him so easily?

Robin plowed ahead, either unknowing or uncaring of the pain she was inflicting. “I know your kind. You’re bad news. If you really were friends before, if you ever cared about him, you’ll leave him alone.”

Eddie tried to go back to his life, such as it was. He wandered the underworld aimlessly, plagued by thoughts of Steve.

Was it Eddie… that he loved?

Was he okay? Was he happy? Was he safe? He was so vulnerable now– to sickness, and injury. Shit, humans dropped dead from heart attacks all the time!

Eddie could deal with it before, knowing he was out there somewhere, even if they couldn’t be together. But now… now Steve would grow old and die one day, and he couldn’t take that.

The idea of living forever in a world where Steve no longer existed was intolerable.

He went to Lucifer.

It was a long shot, he knew. He’d abandoned his de facto leader long ago, but back in the war Lucifer had been fond of him and Eddie hoped against hope that their history would help his case now. 

The former angel all but laughed in his face. He held no such power, not that he would ever grant Eddie’s wish if he did. 

“What a waste that would be,” the Devil had said, still holding out hope that someday Eddie would break and join him. 

Desperate, he returned to the coffee shop, taking up his old post, and waited for Robin to confront him.

As she stalked angrily into the alley, he hurried to explain. 

“I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out. I love him, Robin, always have. That’s why I fell. I was outraged at being denied this thing that humans were given freely to take for granted.” 

She pursed her lips. 

“You don’t believe me.”

Robin sighed heavily. “I can’t believe I'm saying this, but I do, actually.”

“Really?”

She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

Eddie unfolded it with shaking hands, a perfect sketch of his face.

“I found this, along with several others. Apparently he’s been drawing them for weeks. Somehow, deep down, he remembers you.”

Tears poured down his face as he continued to stare at the proof of Steve’s feelings for him.

“Why did you come back here?” She asked.

“To beg you to take a request to God, plead my case… please.” 

“What for?”

“To make me human too.”

“Are you sure? If They agree to it you’ll be just like him, vulnerable, with no memory of who you were.”

“I know. I’ll just have to trust that we’ll find each other again.”

Eddie woke up feeling like he’d been having the strangest dream. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though, rent was due soon and he still hadn’t found a job.

He set out for the corner store to pick up a newspaper and found himself drawn to an adorable little coffee shop along the way with a help wanted sign out front. He knew the prices at a place like that were well out of his budget, but one look at the beautiful man behind the counter was enough to have him thinking– screw the budget. 

Besides, it couldn’t hurt to put in an application, even if he had no experience as a barista.

The man looked up as Eddie entered the empty shop, and their eyes met. There was something familiar about him. The man paled, eyes going wide. It was a curious reaction, but Steve, as his nametag read, shook it off quickly and forced a smile. 

“Good Morning, what can I get you?”

Gorgeous and the voice of an angel? Eddie was half in love already. 

He ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, a drip coffee, which Steve poured with shaking hands, cursing as a little of the hot liquid sloshed over the cup’s side, burning him. 

“You okay?”

Steve turned, offering his first real smile, laughing at himself as he shook his head.

Without a word he reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small sketchbook, sliding it across the counter. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think I've been dreaming about you.”

Steve showed him then, page after page filled with drawings of Eddie's face. 

Eddie’s stomach flipped, suddenly realizing why Steve had looked so familiar. “I think I've been dreaming about you, too.”

As always, all my love and thanks to @penny00dreadful beloved friend and beta.

Also to @hitlikehammers and @theheadlessphilosopher for listening to me talk about this and reading it through as I attempted to parse this down from 3400 words to it's current form.

Some tags of those I recall expressing interest or i think might like this? (sorry if i miss anyone or if you didn't want to be tagged!): @griefabyss69 @pearynice @eriquin @cranberrymoons @momotonescreaming @kikidoesfanfic @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @mentallyundone @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @vegasol

[sapphicsentbycyberlife]

Never Again

SUB!ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

Word Count: 7.2K

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pt. 2 here

╔════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════╗

A/N- So, I'm a weak bitch... I wrote Abby being all dom and aggressive and shit, and on the opposite side of the spectrum, there's Ellie... I just felt like this was important. Ellie needed to be allowed to surrender her control to someone else every once in a while. Also, to be clear, this is NOT anti!Dina content. I absolutely LOVE Dina! But from a lore standpoint on my end? This made the most sense for me. It could be seen as slightly out of character because Ellie is submissive, but that's pretty much the only thing.

WARNINGS: Swearing, minor alcohol use, vaginal fingering (r! giving), oral sex (r! giving), surrender of control, claw marks on skin, sub!Ellie, soft dom!reader, kissing w/tongue

SYNOPSIS: Ellie returned back to Jackson and couldn't find where she was supposed to belong. After being with you for a few days, she quickly takes over your entire life and then, your entire world.

╔════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═══════╗

She was gone, and then came back again. And then she left again, and came back again… Just once, just fucking once, you wanted to see Ellie Williams and know that this would be the time she actually stuck around in Jackson. It was bad enough that when she left the first time, she hadn’t even said goodbye to you, but then she left, and everybody was fully convinced she had died! Once again, no fucking goodbye.

And now she was back… and she hadn’t even said hello to you! Well, she hadn’t talked to damn near anybody. You heard that she went to visit Dina, and saw JJ once again, but that didn’t go too well… In fact, it was a full-blown disaster. Dina lost it, went off on her completely, and Ellie had been sent out in the cold, holding back tears that you had never seen truly fall. It was a curse, living across the street from Ellie’s ex…

You had visited Dina a few times. Nothing major, just checking up on her to see how she was holding up and to watch JJ while she went on patrol or went out of the house. But beyond that, you didn’t know much about what happened… Until you saw Tommy fighting with Ellie in the middle of town. Your heart broke for her as he looked ready to kill her where she stood, and it had felt like the entire town had turned on her.

Seeing her look so broken, so reserved, so… so everything that Ellie Williams wasn’t— it felt surreal. It’s what made you walk up to her in the middle of the tavern, seeing her sitting in the corner of the dining area with what appeared to be alcohol in front of her, and a plate of uneaten food. She was flipping through a composition book with her head in her hands, scribbling on the page in front of her. You hadn’t meant to look at it, but the visuals made it obvious what was on her mind.

The drawing of a bloody golf club made your stomach clench and for a second, you thought making your presence known was the worst idea you ever had… But it seemed like she wasn’t about to let you get away. Ellie looked up, and your mouth went dry at seeing her eyes. 3 years ago, they would sparkle, and they felt so full of life. But now? They looked dull…

“Hey,” Ellie put her pencil down and closed the notebook, marking her place with the writing utensil.

You cleared your throat. “Hey El.”

The silence couldn’t have been more awkward as she gestured to the seat across from her for you to sit down, and you contemplated running away before deciding that she’s been through enough emotional torment. You plopped down on the bench and stripped off your jacket to acclimatize to the warmth of the tavern.

“I’d ask how you’ve been,” You started. “But I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”

She simply chuckled and reached for the glass of liquor. The fact that her food was untouched made you feel guilty for some reason.

“But uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck. “When did you get back?”

She knew that you knew the answer but humored you anyway. “Last week.”

“Oh? Didn’t even stop by to say hi? How rude of you, El.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, smiling. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh please, you’ll live.”

Your laughter echoed in the almost empty tavern and Ellie could see the faint blush on your cheeks. You always did like how bossy she was.

It was then when she lifted the glass to her lips, you noticed that two of her fingers had been… she was missing her ring and pinky finger just before her knuckles. It looked roughly healed, like it happened only a few months prior, and it made your eyes water. She had been through so much in such a short time… within two years, Ellie’s entire life was destroyed and changed for the worst.

Ellie was clearly self-conscious about her missing digits and when she saw your eyes on her hand, she covered it with the other one. Without missing a beat, you reached out and took hold of her mangled limb and gently rubbed your thumb across the top of her hand, tracing a tendon under her skin. She looked shocked, but not uncomfortable…

“El,” You sighed. “I know this doesn’t mean shit, but… I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re alive.”

It actually meant far more than you thought.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

In the days that followed, Ellie wasn’t shy about making her presence known to you. Almost every day, she came to visit you in your home. Maria wasn’t letting her go on patrols, so she felt more confined than ever before, and was doing everything in her power to not go stir-crazy. And it seemed that the only person in town that wanted anything to do with her… was you.

Dina had made it clear to Ellie that she was still pissed off and would probably be for a long time. Not to mention how Tommy screamed at Ellie that she betrayed him and basically said she was spitting on his brother’s grave. Maria was cold and distant, seeing her more like a stranger than someone she helped take care of since she was 15… Even Cat didn’t seem to value Ellie’s presence anymore.

Personally? You were infuriated with all of them. How could they all treat her like this? Dina was treating Ellie like the last two years with her meant absolutely nothing. Tommy was the reason she went after Abby in the first place! Maria had no right to be so cold when all she did was try to honor her promise, and Cat? What the fuck was Cat’s problem?!

The rage was bubbling under your surface even when you heard your front door open up. Ellie let herself in without knocking, due to her coming by literally twice a day for 2 weeks. It felt unnecessary at this point. She put her backpack down by the front door and headed for the kitchen where you were prepping dinner and leaned on the counter.

“So, guess what happened today?” Ellie said, making the space her own in seconds. When you turned around to look at her, you saw her sitting on your counter and reaching for the cup on the wooden surface. Before you could protest, she drank the water in the glass, making you sigh and roll your eyes.

“Woman, with how you live, I have no fuckin’ idea,” You dropped the ground beef into a bowl and began to season it. “Could mean you found something cool at the market or you stabbed someone with a rusty spoon.”

She snorted, and it made your heart soar with how she seemed to come out of herself in the last several days with you.

“I’ll narrow it down; Mary-Anne’s dog had puppies,” You immediately stopped what you were doing and washed your hands in the sink. Puppies? You always had time to talk about puppies!

“Her dog’s an Aussie, right?” With Ellie’s nod, you were practically vibrating in your shoes, completely forgetting about dinner and grabbing your jacket. “Well, come on! Come on!”

“Are you fuckin’— You’re gonna go get a puppy?” Ellie hopped off the counter and followed you out your front door, attempting to keep up pace with how fast you were speed-walking to Mary-Anne’s house.

“El, she’s got Aussie puppies. They are like… the calicos of dog breeds, are you kidding me? Yes, I’m gonna get a goddamn puppy!”

The redhead chuckled and followed you, a few steps behind as you went up to Mary-Anne’s house where there was a sign on her gate reading “Puppies Inside”.

Despite your attempt to convince her, Ellie stayed outside and watched you knock on the door and enter the woman’s home. She tried to not get wrapped up in her own thoughts but after spending almost two and a half weeks with you… Ellie was beginning to realize something that she wasn’t sure she liked. Ellie’s demons were only quiet when she was around you.

You distracted her… Even when she met you after returning to Jackson the first time, with Joel and deciding that this was her new home, you were her best distraction. She confided in you when she had a crush on Cat. She came to you with her jealousy about Dina and Jesse, wishing that she didn’t feel the way she did. She came to you when she returned from Seattle… You saw the new scars littering her skin and the way she looked so defeated and so broken.

Whenever Ellie was feeling too much of something, whether it was good or bad, she thought of you. It wasn’t fair; treating you as her personal therapist, but your presence made her feel… calm and grounded. Like she was able to tell you anything.

Ellie smirked when she saw you leaving the house and you had a puppy inside your arms. It was small, fluffy, and was currently licking your face as you giggled and walked down the path back in her direction. The puppy clawed at your chest and licked all over your face, making you giggle with delight.

“You picked the fluffiest one, didn’t you?” Ellie teased.

“Oh, stuff it,” You responded, cuddling the pooch to your chest. “He was actually the last one… I got so damn lucky, El, you have no idea!”

“Ya know,” Ellie followed you back to your house. “This is the first I’ve heard of you wanting a dog.”

You rolled your eyes and went through your front door, using your foot to keep the screen part open so Ellie could follow her inside. Once in, Ellie shut the door and watched you press little kisses all over the puppy’s fluffy face. “I’ve always wanted a puppy… It’s in my nature to take care of things.”

For a second, Ellie thought too hard on your words and her cheeks went a soft pink. It felt like you were talking more about her than the dog now.

You knelt down and placed the puppy on the floor and he immediately began to explore his new home, sniffing all over the place and pouncing on the little dust bunnies under your furniture and pawing at the blanket hanging off your couch. Ellie crossed her arms and was reminded of JJ as he wanted to touch almost everything when he was smaller. “What are you gonna name him?”

“Okay, laugh if you want,” You smirked and watched the puppy wag his little fluffy tail before he leaped forward and attempted to pounce on Ellie’s backpack. “I’m thinking… Pumpkin.”

“Fucking why?” She groaned, shoving both of her hands into her face while you gave a heavy laugh.

“Come on! He was born in the middle of Fall, there’s pumpkins all over the damn place, he’s orange in… some patches—” You began to realize that justifying your choice was idiotic and you gave up.  “Okay, so I’m not good with names! Sue me!”

The redhead sighed, but there was a smile on her face as she looked at the puppy and watched as he ran up to her and pounced on her shoelaces. “You know what? It’s perfect.”

The smile that grew on your face was contagious as Ellie knelt down and began scratching behind his ears. “Little Pumpkin…”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The days blurred into weeks, and the weeks faded into months. As time went on, and Pumpkin began to grow, you and Ellie had gotten that much closer. A few weeks before, she had finally asked if she could just move all of her stuff into your spare bedroom since it was where she spent all of her time anyways. Maria had let her go back on patrols, and she was becoming more and more like herself, but every once in a while, you would wake up to the sound of crying, or the soft strum of a guitar in your living room.

Ellie was still healing her past wounds, but it was looking like it got easier. You allowed her to heal on her own terms and didn’t force things to move too fast. If she chose to talk about… about Joel, that was her business, and you would listen. If she chose to be quiet that day, you did most of the talking, or you would put on one of those movies you got in your trade. And if there were days where she wanted to be alone, you would come into her room to check on her every few hours and remind her to eat something, so she didn’t get sick. Sometimes she listened.

But tonight? Tonight, was a whole different story.

You were fast asleep, curled up in your blankets and holding one of the pillows to your chest as Pumpkin was sleeping on the floor in his own bed next to yours. You hadn’t noticed the other presence in your room until you felt a hand on your arm, gently caressing the bare skin of your bicep. When you opened your eyes, you saw Ellie sitting on your bed, eyes bloodshot and nose red, evident that she had been crying not five minutes before.

“Ellie?” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up a little, turning the dial on your lamp and brightening the light only a little. “Hey, wh-what’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” She mumbled, wiping a new tear that rolled down her face. It was so different to see her so raw and vulnerable in your presence. “M’sorry… I can go—”

“No, it’s okay,” You quickly reassured her, reaching for her wrist and gently tugging on her body. At first, she had no idea what you were trying to do but when you scooted over and patted the space next to you, she blushed. You wanted her to lay down next to you. “C’mon, I don’t bite, dummy.”

Ellie let out a broken laugh before she crawled under your blanket and took up the spot in front of you. There was a decent space between the both of you as you almost fell back asleep, but her presence felt so powerful in that moment that you knew all hope for sleep was out the damn window. “What’s wrong?”

Ellie didn’t say almost anything before a sob broke through the air. Your eyes shot open as you watched her face contort into nothing but pure sorrow… You had never seen Ellie like this before. Maybe she was acting like this because she was tired and she had her guard down, or maybe she felt like you were the one she could trust with her emotional instability in that moment. Without a second thought, you moved forward and wrapped both arms around her shoulders.

Ellie choked on her breath and stuffed her entire face in your chest, staining your shirt with her tears as she sobbed uncontrollably. You didn’t say anything. All that you felt like you could do was run your fingers through her auburn locks and rock back and forth on your bed to try and soothe her into calming down.

She cried for almost an hour, every once in a while, stopping in order to breathe and then she immediately broke down again, like all of the two years of emotions were pouring out at once. Very slowly, you leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and she inhaled sharply, her fingers curling up inside of your long-sleeved sleep shirt.

“El, just breathe,” You cooed softly, trying to coax her into calming down. “It’s okay, honey, I’m here… I’m right here, you’re safe. You’re home.”

It felt… oddly easy to call this Ellie’s home. In the past few weeks, you had been recreating your living space to make Ellie feel more comfortable inside of it. You had some of her records mixed in with yours, and you had hung up her paintings throughout the entire house. It felt oddly domestic, like this was the most normal thing in the world for you two to do… And you would be lying if you hadn’t wished it was like this all the time.

Ellie was damaged, and she was coming to you for help… To take advantage of that emotional state and to admit how you felt about her? It was evil. Every time you saw her smile at your kitchen counter, every morning you shared a drink with her before she left for patrol, whenever you came back home and saw her playing with Pumpkin, even when you did her laundry, you thought for a second… you wanted to kiss her. You wanted to kiss Ellie and call her your own.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” She sobbed, pulling back and rubbing at her eyes. You reached out and gently pushed her bangs away from her face. “Why can’t I keep my shit together?”

“El, you’ve been holding it in for so long…” You frowned and reached for one of her hands. Ellie watched as you brought her hand up to your mouth and it was like you were going in slow motion as you kissed over her knuckles and the nubs of her remaining digits. “You can only be strong for so long before you break.”

Feeling the sensation of her fingers twitch against your lips had you looking up and even in the dim light of your lamp, you could see her cheeks tinting with blush. You realized your mistake and let go of her hand. “You’re allowed to feel things, El… But you have to go at your own speed.”

“I’m sorry,” She choked out, rolling over onto her back and looking up at the ceiling, Tears dripped from the corner of her eyes and down her face, onto your pillow. “I’m sorry I left… I’m sorry I ignored you… I’m sorry I was such a bitch for so long to you.”

“Ellie,” You leaned on your elbows. “You were going through so much shit… Yeah, I was hurt, but I was never mad at you.”

She looked at you for a second before sighing, rubbing her face with her entire palm. “You should… Then you’d be like everyone else in this goddamn town.”

It broke your heart to hear her say that. You scooted closer, and wrapped your hand around hers, looking down and meeting her pale green irises that seemed almost like a mossy waterbed in the dim light of your bedroom. “Fuck this town… Fuck anybody who treats you less than what you deserve.”

Ellie almost trembled when she spoke, leaning forward a bit more and you could feel her breath on your face. “And what do I deserve?”

You let out a soft sigh, and looked down at your best friend’s lips that looked so inviting in that moment that you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to… “You deserve the fucking world, Ellie.”

It was you who finally closed the distance. For the last 4 years, you had wondered if Ellie’s lips were as rough as they looked, but it turns out, you were wrong… they felt so soft, and so inviting, and she smelled so warm and homey. Maybe it was because she used your soap? Whatever the reason, it made your heart soar.

Ellie didn’t move at first, her arms staying right where they were before she slid a hand across your back and threaded her damaged fingers into your hair. The softest whimper tumbled free from her lips, and you could feel the wetness of her tears on your own face.

And just like that, you suddenly felt dirty… You were disgusted with yourself; you felt like you took advantage of Ellie’s emotional state, and you kissed her because she was vulnerable and had her guard down. She felt safe with you, and you ruined everything!

You broke the kiss and let out a soft gasp, putting your hand over your mouth and looking up at her with tears in your own eyes. “W-What’s wrong?” She asked, taking a deep breath and you felt yourself sob.

“I’m sorry,” It came out barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry, Ellie, I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to kiss me?” She seemed offended at first, her brows pulling down and her nose wrinkling in semi-anger. You immediately clarified.

“No! No, no, I meant to… But I shouldn’t have,” You covered your whole face with your hands and hid away. “You trusted me with your feelings… and I took advantage of that. I violated your trust…”

You were so busy hiding your face in your hands and stewing in your shame that you missed Ellie saying your name almost three times. Or maybe you just didn’t want to face the architect of your suffering. It wasn’t until you felt those rough hands grabbing your wrists that you looked up, your eyes shining with tears.

“Please don’t say that,” Ellie practically begged. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

How could she say that? How could she say you didn’t do anything wrong? Your entire face was burning with embarrassment as she pulled your hands away and leaned down, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead that you’ve ever felt in your life. It felt so nice, but so wrong.

“Every time you left,” You said, your voice breaking when you met her eyes. “Every time… I never thought you would survive… I felt like I was seeing you walk away to your death… and you didn’t even say goodbye.”

Ellie looked guilty and tore her gaze away, looking down to where she was holding your hands. “I… I couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you… say goodbye to the one person who still seems to care about me.”

“El,” You reached out and gently placed a hand on her cheek, and you were taken back by how she leaned into your touch without hesitation. “Dina still cares about you… but you hurt her so bad. It’s gonna be rough for a while, but at some point… you and her will be okay.”

Ellie knew that Dina was trying to live her life without Ellie, and it crushed her to do it. But at the same time… Dina didn’t have any more patience left for Ellie and her demons. Ellie needed someone who was able to care for her in the way she needed to be cared for. Her inner child needs to be healed, and you had this… this motherly attitude and caring touch that only so many people could possess. And while Dina did have that, she had JJ to worry about…

For so long, Ellie just felt like a burden on everybody’s lives. Even in the farmhouse, she felt like her entire life was confined to one room upstairs. Nothing that resembled her was out in the open in that house. Everything that was Ellie was hidden away behind a door, and while it was her choice, Dina didn’t try to talk her out of it. You, on the other hand… You encouraged her to make this her own home.

The artwork was a small step, and then her leaving her stuff here was another huge one. You kept food in the fridge for her, asked her what she wanted for dinner, took care of her bed when she was too lazy to make it… You made yourself an active part of Ellie’s life and healing process, while Dina simply… dealt with it.

You could never experience the horrors that happened in Seattle… And that may have been why Dina and Ellie could never recover. Too many bad memories within their lives together that they both wanted to forget.

And that’s where you entered in. The one person who was willing to not just put up with her, but actively try to help her heal. Who didn’t go out of their way to distract her and make her think of something else, but encourage her to feel things that she didn’t wish to feel… You were her healing remedy, and she didn’t want to lose that, or lose you.

Ellie placed her hand over yours and pulled it down, kissing the middle of your palm and down the inside of your wrist. You laid there, stunned and wordless as she trailed her lips all the way up the length of your arm before she leaned back down and pressed her soft lips against yours once again. And this time, you didn’t feel guilty… You felt like you could breathe.

Without hesitation, you reached up and pushed your hands into that auburn hair of hers, curling the locks around your fingers and pressing your entire body against her own. She let out a soft whimper and you responded with your own noise when you felt her tongue press against your lips. It sent lighting down your entire body and made your toes curl for a second.

The old Ellie would have been climbing on top of you and showing her dominance and strength, but she wasn’t that Ellie anymore. When your hand went from her hair and pressed to the bare skin of her hip where her shirt had slid up, Ellie broke the kiss, whimpering like it had genuinely hurt her. She was shaking, and it looked like she was terrified.

“El, hunny, look at me,” You cooed gently, forcing her eyes to meet yours. “We don’t have to do anything tonight… This isn’t about me; this is about you—”

“I want to,” She pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation as she curled a fist into your shirt and gave a little tug. “Please, please don’t push me away.”

Your heart broke at her plea, and you slid your other hand down the length of her back and slipped your fingers under the shirt, slowly pushing it from her waist and watching her lean back just enough to strip the cloth off her skin. The sight of her bare skin, littered with freckles, scars, and bruises, made your heart speed up. She’s been through so much…

“Sweet girl,” You sighed, hands caressing against her abdomen and up between her soft breasts. Ellie closed her eyes and leaned into your touch like you were a live wire and she couldn’t break away. “You’ve always been so beautiful…”

Ellie simply hummed in response, her body giving little trembles whenever your nails grazed her flesh. You slowly sat up from your bed and eased Ellie down onto her back, and she didn’t fight even a little. She fully submitted for you without question. How badly did she need this? Ellie was so touch-starved that she looked like she’d never been touched in her whole life. It was heartbreaking.

You didn’t expect that pitiful cry when your hands closed around her breasts and you gave a squeeze, feeling the flesh in your hands and watching as she bit her lip and squirmed in place. Ellie reached up, running a hand down the length of your side and grabbing your hip as you leaned forward, pressing tiny kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.

“Fuck…” She panted, her voice feeling so shaky and broken, but so sweet at the same time. You were gentle and didn’t move any faster. You treated her like she had never been touched before in her life. The little whines she made were like music to your ears, and never in a million years did you think Ellie would be submitting to you… or at all.

Your lips stayed at her collarbone, and you looked up for a brief second in order to see her gaze. “Can I kiss lower, honey?”

She stared at you for far longer than she expected, but then began to nod aggressively. You moved your lips down across the length of her sternum before moving to the left, wrapping your lips around her nipple and sucking. She cried out and arched off the mattress, grabbing at your hair and holding you close to her chest as your other hand gave her right breast the attention that it deserved.

Your teeth gently scraped over the sensitive skin, watching as she writhed like a fish out of water and made the sweetest noises you’ve ever heard. So lost in the feeling of your mouth, she moved on autopilot when she felt your hand leave her chest and grab at the shorts around her hips.

Ellie lifted her rear off the bed and allowed you to slide them down her legs, tossing them onto the floor on the opposite side of where Pumpkin’s bed was. The dog was snoozing away, and you learned he was a pretty heavy sleeper and only woke up if someone touched him.

Well, the dog wasn’t on your mind. No, the only thing on your mind was Ellie and how she was whimpering for you. Her skin felt hot against your hands, and she was holding you by the back of your head, fingers threaded in your hair and nails scraping across your scalp.

So captivated by this sweet, gorgeous woman in front of you, it was hard to focus on just one thing as you slipped your thumb into the waistband of her panties and paused for a second, looking up to meet her eyes. You realized that this was fast, and you were more than happy to slow it down for her, but when you stopped, Ellie looked like she wanted to cry. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

She sounded so desperate for you. “Are you okay, El? I know it’s… it’s really fast, what we’re doing, and I don’t want to force you—”

Ellie said your name, snapping down and digging the heels of her feet into the mattress. “What can I tell you to make you realize that this is what I fucking want? Please?”

Both of her hands went to her eyes, and she groaned, her nails biting into her face. She was losing her mind and you decided to take pity on her. Ellie immediately looked up when she felt your body off of her and she immediately covered her mouth with her right hand.

You dipped down, your back arching and your hands going to her thighs, sliding them up the length of her muscles before stopping right at her slick slit. Feeling your hands on her cunt was like everything she so desperately wanted but was too proud to admit it. Her head fell back on the many pillows you kept on your bed, and she looked up at the ceiling, crying out with pleasure.

“You poor thing,” You whispered as you got down and gently blew cold air against her cunt, watching her inner thighs quiver with excitement. “You’re dripping…”

“Y-You know h...how fucking long it’s been?” She said, throwing a hand over her face and trying to calm down so she didn’t cum in the first five minutes. “I can’t take it anymore… touch me, please!”

How could you refuse?

You didn’t go with your hands. No, you bent down and put your entire mouth over Ellie’s cunt, making her groan and push her hips up into your mouth. Keeping both hands on her inner thighs, you gently massaged her muscles and took your sweet time. Very slowly, you slid your tongue along the length of her, licking from her opening all the way up to her clit and pausing there, watching for her reaction.

Ellie’s breath hitched and she grabbed at your headboard with one hand while keeping the other on the back of your head. You basked in her hold and lapped at her clit, digging your nails into her thighs and loving just how bad the redhead began squirming underneath you.

“Ohmygod… Ah! Shit,” Ellie never did have a filter. She always said exactly what was on her mind, swears and all. You always loved that about her, and now you love it even more. Taking your time with her, you experimented with the speeds she liked, how much pressure to add, and where to put your hands. Ellie was writhing and whimpering with every single movement you made with your mouth, basking in her taste and her desperation for more.

You broke your mouth off of her cunt and looked up at her, tossing your hair out of your face and speaking with far more purr in your voice than intended. “You taste fucking heavenly, sweet girl…”

“Nnnngggg,” She cried, sitting up on her elbows and looking down to meet your eyes. “Y-Your mouth is what’s fucking heavenly.”

You giggled and gently wiped your mouth on her inner thigh, sliding both of your hands down and gently pulling those slick folds apart in front of you. The sound her pussy made was enough to make anybody blush, and you came to the realization that in this moment… she was all yours. She was yours, in your home, in your bed, and in your heart.

“Can’t help myself,” You sighed and slid your hand down until your two middle digits were prodding at her entrance. Ellie clenched her teeth and tried to relax, and you could tell that she was beyond tight… poor thing, she must have needed this so badly. “Calm down, sweet girl… Ellie, baby, eyes on me, okay?”

She did as you said, and you blushed in the dark. “You’re here… you are home, and you are safe… it’s all over, and you are okay…”

Lost in your words, she opened her mouth and gasped at the sensation of your fingers slowly slipping inside of her. Your voice was enough to make her relax, and it felt like a drug for you as you set a slow pace, pushing your fingers in slowly and methodically. Her soft pants, and strangled moans spurred you on and you put your head on her belly, listening to her sweet noises and the sounds her cunt made around your fingers.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” You didn’t know where this newfound confidence came from. You were usually never one for dirty talk, and nine times out of ten, you were at the mercy of someone else, not the other way around… This was new territory for you, and you planned on giving Ellie everything you could give. “Your pussy looks so pretty around my fingers.”

Ellie let out a guttural cry of pleasure, arching her back off the bed and grinding down into your hand like it was the only thing she ever wanted to feel again. You were smiling, and you couldn’t help yourself no matter how hard you tried as you kissed over her inner thighs and paid special attention to the scars on her freckled, pale skin.

“G-Goddammit,” She hissed through clenched teeth. “N-Now I know how it f..feels, huh?”

You giggled, biting your lip and looking up at her, slowly spreading your fingers apart inside of her to stretch her out a bit more. “Hmm? How what feels, sweetheart?”

“T-This whole… fuck, this d-dirty talk thing…” She blushed from her ears down to her cheeks, attempting to hold a conversation with you, and you just assumed it was to distract herself from feeling too much of a good thing. “I-I’ve never… been on the r-receiving end of this.”

You felt honored to be Ellie’s first experience with being fully dominated… You could only imagine that even when someone had been on top of her before, she was a power-bottom. But this was full, complete surrender of control.

“Oh yeah?” You got up on your knees and angled yourself so you could press your hips down against hers and use your own body as momentum to thrust your fingers inside of her. You started slow, and Ellie looked like she transcended to a new level of arousal. “That feels good, sweet girl?”

Ellie whined like a dog, her body rolling up against your hips as you held onto her with one hand and kept your other buried inside of her. “S-So good baby… S-Shit… W-Where did y— AH! L-learn to do t..this…?”

You gave a little dark laugh and fell down on top of her, your nose pressing against hers and leaving a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth as she moaned against you. This angle was positively perfect and from here, you could see her face twisting in pleasure, and you could feel her heartbeat through her chest against your own.

“M’just that good, sweetheart,” You teased, kissing down the length of her neck and then back up to her lips. Ellie wrapped both arms around you and held on to you as she felt you speed up your movements. Your hips slapped against her own and she felt your fingers stretching her out so deliciously that she wanted to scream.

“That’s it sweet girl,” You practically purred on her neck just below her ear as she dug her nails into your back. “That’s it, just like that… Hnnnn, you wanna cum, sweet girl? Wanna cum for me?”

Ellie was crying again, but for a whole new reason. She could feel that climax building inside of her but you managed to keep your fingers away from the place she wanted to feel them the most. She began nodding, shoving her face into your shoulder and leaving claw marks across your skin.

“P-Please—”

“Oh, sweet girl,” You teased, slowing back down and making her whimper like you just kicked her while she was down. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

You wanted this to last as long as possible. But it didn’t take very much for Ellie to grow impatient with your relentless teasing and she slid one of her hands up from your back to grab at your hair and give a weak little tug.

“I can’t fucking take it anymore,” Ellie huffed. “Please… please just fuck me.”

You became more aggressive in mere seconds. You gave her one more kiss before leaning back and spreading her legs wider. You pressed one hand to her abdomen and your movements went from steady, to full-on brutal.

The noises of her pussy squelching on your fingers, how she began to moan at a higher pitch and how she grabbed the bedsheets behind her head to the point that the fabric sounded like it was ripping, you were over the moon with happiness. Your knuckles slammed against her opening with how hard you slammed yourself into her, curling your digits upward and stroking across that sensitive spot inside of her pussy that made her see stars behind her eyes.

“Oh FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” Ellie chanted. “Right there! Shit, right there baby! Unnnghhh, d-don’t stop! Feels so fucking good!”

Your entire body shuddered, a wave of pleasure washing over your own body as you watched Ellie chase her high on your movements. Her toes curled, and she slammed her entire body against the mattress, crying out and saying your name like it was the last thing she would ever say in her life.

“Come on, sweet girl,” You panted, looking down for a second and admiring how her tightness stretched around your digits before you focused back up on her face. “Come on, cum for me.”

She was close to tears, and right on the edge of her orgasm. A thought crossed your mind, and you reached out with your other hand, licking your fingers sloppily and reaching down. And just like that, all hope of being quiet went out of the window. You began to viciously rub at her clit with your wet fingertips, swirling the bud around in your touch and slamming your fingers down so deep inside of her that she was bouncing up with every thrust you provided.

“FUUCK! DON’T STOP! DON’T STOP!”

“I won’t, Ellie,” You cooed softly. “I’m right here… It’s okay, you can cum; it’s okay…”

With your final words, Ellie’s entire body went tense, and she opened up her mouth, no sound escaping from her throat before she gasped, and then screamed to high heaven. Her inner walls squeezed your fingers and she squirmed underneath you as you bent down and pressed your lips against her neck.

Ellie rode out her orgasm by grinding down on your hand, wrapping her arms around you and raking her nails up the length of your back, all the way to your shoulders. Her face was quick to wet with tears and drool dripped from the corner of her mouth, twitching and squirming under you until your fingers finally began to slow down.

A few more thrusts from your digits and you were pulling yourself free from her soaked cunt, lifting up your hand and licking the wetness from your fingers. Ellie whined and immediately hid her face inside of your chest, making you smirk. “Oh sweetie, I didn’t think you got embarrassed.”

“I’m gonna n-need you to shut the fuck up,” She snapped, but sounded so breathless and shaky that there was no bite behind her words. You smirked and leaned down, kissing her forehead and then her nose.

“How do you feel?” You moved her hair away from her sweat stained face and looked down to meet her eyes. She chuckled, smiling wide with her eyes half-lidded and looking exhausted. “Feel tired?”

“Y-Yeah,” She panted, wiping her chin on her shoulder as she grabbed you by the shoulders and yanked you down onto the bed next to her. It felt so natural for her to do that and so easy for you to fall in right next to her, like you had been doing it all your life. She stayed on her back as you were laying on your side, gently tracing little patterns on her abdomen as she panted. “Fuck…”

“I know,” You smirked, reaching up and grabbing at her hand, kissing over her fingers and smiling. In that moment, it felt like something shifted for you two… Like it was possible for this to work out. Ellie turned to look at you and grabbed at your chin, dipping down to kiss your lips.

“W-What d...does this m-mean for us?” You whined between kisses as Ellie feasted on your lips like you were an entire meal. This was the Ellie you were familiar with… assertive and desperate, ready to prove herself and make someone else feel good.

Even with how hard Ellie had just cum, she was on all fours and overtop of you, kissing at your lips and sliding one of her hands over your abdomen to your chest. You realized now that this was going to be one long night.

“N-Not losing you,” Ellie breathed against your lips. “Never again… You’re mine… and I’m yours.”

Tears filled your own eyes, and you wrapped your arms around her, kissing with a newfound desperation that you didn’t know you possessed… Ellie wanted to be with you. She genuinely wanted to be with you, like your girlfriend! How could you say no to her?!

“Y-Yours, Ellie,” You whined as she began to strip of your clothes. "I'm yours.”

[idkaguyorsomething]

The Problem of Susan Fic Recs

For many reasons, The Last Battle is probably the most contentious addition to the Narnia canon. The standout, though, has to be the infamous Problem of Susan, wherein the Pevensie children are all killed in a train crash and brought to Narnia 2 Electric Boogaloo aka heaven, then declare that Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia because of her interest in “lipsticks and nylons”. Hardly any time is spent on this, but the implications have been the ground for a lot of argument and discussion. What exactly would happen to Susan, and should it have happened? Over the years, dozens of fic writers have thrown their hats in the ring and weighed in on the subject, making the Problem of Susan almost a prism for the fandom: everyone shines through it a bit differently, resulting in a wide spectrum. Here’s some of the highlights under the cut.

http://shedletsky.com/blog/the-god-who-loves-you

Starting with the fic that coined the term, written by Neil Gaiman himself, this fic is a reflection and deconstruction of the idea that Susan would be able to find Narnia again by delving into the trauma that the experience of losing all her family at once as well as the social injustices that a young woman of her time would’ve faced, something that the narrative of The Last Battle never really addresses. It took off for a reason, as it presents a lot of good food for thought, but it’s also got some pretty weird shit that can feel like it’s conflating adulthood with edginess. Well worth a read for all the points it raises, but if you’re fond of canon you probably won’t like the way it takes a hammer to it.

Now this one is exactly what you’d want to read if you wanted some feel-good time. This story is probably the closest to how C S Lewis would’ve written Susan’s return to Narnia, detailing her rediscovering all the things she put away as well as what led up to her rejecting Narnia in the first place. It falls more to the end of being almost uncritical of canon, with the focus on Susan basically having the same sort of religious rediscovery that C S Lewis himself had in his life. Because of how she was treated in canon, that can be pretty frustrating, but the ending feels nothing short of joyous.

Swinging back to the other end of the spectrum, this fic is very critical of the idea of The Last Battle being a pretty happy ending for everyone, unambiguously stating that life is always worth living for all the Pevensie kids. It explores what their lives could’ve been like if they didn’t die, being a rebuttal of C S Lewis’ themes rather than a continuation of them while feeling equally as happy as the fic directly above.

And this story feels like a midway point between the above two. It dives really deep into the emotional damage that Susan would’ve suffered before and after the train crash in some absolutely gorgeous prose, showing both her and Aslan with great sympathy while maintaining that what happened to her is not a punishment in any way. Bittersweet and very, very good.

Heading back towards the more critical end of the spectrum, this fic presents a Susan who is not interested in finding Narnia again, only her family. She is very much a character straight out of an ancient myth rather than a teen trying to make sense of a senseless situation here, filled with determination as much as desperation. It’s probably the closest fic on here to having something close to a plot as well as a character study, with the exception of The Queen’s Return and one other:

Being a crossover with what’s pretty much the antithesis of the Chronicles of Narnia, His Dark Materials, it’s probably easy for you to guess which side of the spectrum this story falls on. It’s more of a HDM story than a Narnia one, but the two worlds blend together surprisingly well, and it gives us a rare look into a Susan who’s lived decades of her life when the story picks up. She’s pretty much the Professor and it is fascinating, as is everything left to interpretation by this gem of a fic that is ambiguous yet deeply satisfying.

¡And here’s Susan as a Doctor Who companion! This isn’t directly a Narnia story so much as it is one about two people much older than they look mourning the loss of their worlds, with a Susan who is a queen wise beyond her years. Reading it is like taking an ice shower. It doesn’t hold back on the grief, and as a result it manages to feel honest as it reaches a warm ending.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/24311

Despite also being a crossover, this is in some ways the opposite of touch the sky with two arms. Susan is more of an everyday young woman than a queen, and [SLIGHT SPOILERS] Narnia itself does feature directly. But y’know, that’s part of what makes fandom so interesting. Not everyone is going to have the same take on everything, and the ending of this leans more happy than melancholy.

¿A shipping fic that’s also a crossover with Peter Pan that features neither Neverland or Narnia? Yes, this one probably has the least to do with Narnia or Aslan, but it tells a very compelling story about living life and growing up, something that isn’t perfect but can be good if you find someone you want to spend your life with. Susan Pevensie and Wendy Darling are a really good couple, pinky promise.

Technically more a series of ensemble oneshots, but Susan features very prominently in a lot of them, and they will make you feel every feeling that everything else on this list might’ve given you. Satisfaction, devastation, simple joy, just go give it a shot.

[fluentmoviequoter]

heyy, sooo could you maybe do one where the reader finds out dalton and chris kissed once at a frat party and she gets super jealous about it but its really fluffy at the end??

tyy and i love your writing SO MUCH btw 🫶🏻

I love this request so much!!! I hope I did it justice. Thank you for the kind words; I'm glad you're enjoying my writing!🤍

Warnings: jealousy, brief mention of insecurity, angst to fluff, text messages?. 2.6k+ words.

If We Met First

Chris: ‘I’m going to hang out with my roomie’s friends tonight. Catch ya next time!’

You read the text and catch yourself smiling, imagining what it will be like to spend time with Dalton without Chris there. Since you met and started spending time with both of them, you’ve developed feelings for Dalton but have never been able to talk to him about it.

Dalton: ‘I have to finish an art project tonight so we’ll just do it another day.’

Reading the new message, you sigh and toss your phone onto your bed, looking around as you think of what you can do with your free time. Before you can decide, your phone buzzes again. Chris sent you a direct text inviting you to her dorm to meet her roommate and friends. As if she knows you plan to politely decline, she points out that you haven’t had time to make more plans. You reluctantly agree, so she sends a string of emojis and tells you to come over whenever. With a final sigh, you get up, change, grab your things, and begin the short walk to Chris’s dorm.

“There she is!” Chris exclaims as you walk through the open door. She introduces you to the other girls and pulls you to sit on her bed as they continue talking.

“As the resident sophomore,” one of the girls says, “I feel it is my duty to ask how things are looking on the relationship front? Freshman year is one of crushes, first dates, and messy breakups in my experience. So, where is everyone on that spectrum?”

Seemingly intrigued by the question, the other girls sit on the floor with her. You remain on the edge of Chris’s bed as you listen to their answers. One is already on boyfriend number 2, another is talking to a new guy but isn’t sure how she wants to proceed, and the other is in a committed relationship that started in middle school.

“Alright, Chris, what about you? Something going on with that ex-roommate of yours?”

You feel an emotion you can’t place begin stirring as Dalton is brought into the conversation.

“Dolphin was a temporary roommate and we’re still friends,” Chris explains before quietly adding, “Although…”

“Spill!” All of the other girls yell as they lean in.

“We went to this frat party the first week of school right?” Chris begins.

Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up without looking at it, too invested in where this story is going.

“We went upstairs and were alone in this bedroom.”

Your phone buzzes again, and you tune Chris out slightly as you see Dalton’s name.

“And then I kissed him.”

Your head jerks up as you hear her. I have to get out of here, you think.

“I’ve got to go,” you say as you stand up. “Thanks for inviting me, sorry to leave early.”

“No, don’t go! We’re having so much fun!”

You hold up your phone and put on an apologetic look. “Something came up. Maybe I can come to the next one. Thanks again.”

Closing the door behind you, you faintly hear them start talking again. You lean your forehead against the door momentarily before clenching your jaw and walking away. A few minutes ago, you were convinced that Dalton felt the same, sending you shy smiles across the room, bringing treats when he picked you up from class. But he kissed Chris at a frat party, and neither thought to tell you. No, they let you into their group, convinced you they were just friends, and probably kept kissing behind your back as they laughed at how stupid and lovesick you must look when you lock eyes with Dalton.

Slamming the door of your dorm, you collapse face-first into your bed and wish you felt like crying. As you sit up, you realize that you aren’t mad at Chris and Dalton, and that emotion you felt earlier was jealousy. You want to be angry that they didn’t tell you, but really you wish you’d met Dalton first so you could have been the one to kiss him. Remembering that Dalton texted you, you unlock your phone and read the messages.

Dalton: ‘I finished my project if you want to come over.’

Dalton: ‘I know Chris is busy and feel bad we both canceled.’

Sure, you do, you think as you toss your phone onto your nightstand. 

You know you should talk to Dalton, but you won’t. Not right now.

The next day, you ignore your phone as you prepare for class. It buzzed several more times last night and this morning, but you would hate to interrupt if Chris and Dalton were talking on the group chat. Someone knocks on your door, and you pick up your bag before opening it.

“Dalton? What are you doing here?” you ask, peeking around the corner to see if Chris is there.

“You weren’t answering my texts, so I wanted to check on you,” he answers, smiling. “And I know your first class isn’t far from mine so I thought we could walk together.”

“You don’t want to walk with Chris?” You close your door and step into the hallway.

“Um, no. Chris doesn’t have any classes this morning, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh. Well, I’m fine, my phone just died last night, and I didn’t have time to check it this morning.” You’re a step ahead of him, failing to produce any interest in his art project.

Dalton catches up and shrugs as he smiles at you. “So, do anything fun last night?”

“No. I went to Chris’s room for a little bit, but something came up, so I just went back to my dorm and went to sleep.”

Reaching the art building, you try not to look too eager to leave Dalton.

“Have a good day, Dalton,” you say without stopping, continuing toward your first class.

“You too,” Dalton says quietly, watching your back as you walk away.

In your attempt to concentrate on your classes, you only think about Dalton. When you try to stop, you picture him and Chris and feel like your skin is probably turning green as your jealousy grows. When your last class is dismissed, one of your classmates hands you a copy of their notes.

“You looked like you were creating a revenge plot and we have a quiz on Friday.”

“Oh. Thank you so much! Derek, right?” You put the paper in your backpack as you express your gratitude.

“Yeah, and no problem. I feel bad for whoever was on the other side of those thoughts though,” Derek says with a laugh.

 You smile at him and half heartedly roll your eyes. “Partly the fault of my delusion, but I thought my friend and I were on the same page, but we were not.”

Derek nods like he understands. “Walk with me? I need to make sure your plan is decent before I let you carry it out.”

You begin walking side-by-side as you state, “I’m probably not going to do anything. I’ll get over it eventually.”

“Well, it seems to me that if it’s affecting you this much, maybe you should do something. Talk to them, get revenge, whatever you think fits the situation.” Derek opens the door for you and stops at the top of the stairs. “Here’s my number, if you need to talk about it. And, full disclosure, my girlfriend is great at revenge plots so I’m sure she would be happy to help too.”

You take his number and slip it into your pocket as you smile at him. “I’ll remember that. Hopefully, she won’t need one since you just gave me your number.”

“Are you kidding? She’s convinced you and, what’s his name? Chris Winslow’s old roommate?”

 “Dalton?”

“Yeah, Dalton. She’s convinced you two are madly in love with each other. Don’t ask why she pays so much attention to other people’s relationships, she’s a psych major with no idea of the word boundaries.”

“Thanks again for the notes. I’ll see you in class.”

Derek nods and turns left as you turn right. Someone says your name, and you look up, quickly spotting Dalton waiting beside the sidewalk.

“Hey,” you say as you approach him.

“How was class?”

“Fine.”

Dalton looks over at you as you begin walking. “Professor Armagan said that the project I did last night was my best work yet.”

You hum non-committedly, chewing the inside of your cheek.

Dalton says your name and places a hand on your wrist to stop you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Dalton. I appreciate you coming to pick me up from class, but you really don’t have to.”

Dalton looks into your eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. Do you want to go get dinner tonight?”

“I’m not feeling great, so I’ll pass. You and Chris have fun. See you later.”

You walk away, navigating to your dorm on autopilot as your jealousy shifts from apathy to insecurity. Part of you is desperate to know why you aren’t enough for Dalton, and the other part is terrified to find out. Later, as your mind wanders to Dalton and his invite to dinner, you realize how hungry you are. Checking your mini-fridge, you settle on walking to your favorite nearby restaurant to try and find comfort in your favorite food.

“Hey.”

You raise your head and see Dalton on the sidewalk. “Hi.”

Dalton looks down at his hands while you think of something to say.

“Where’s Chris?”

Dalton looks up, his brows furrowed. “I don’t know. We didn’t have plans or anything.”

“I thought you were going to get dinner?”

“I invited you to dinner, but you said no, so…”

“Yeah, I actually just realized how hungry I am,” you explain quietly. “If you’re still hungry and the offer is still open, we can go.”

“Sure.”

You and Dalton walk silently, looking over at each other when the other isn’t looking. Dalton tries to act like nothing is wrong, as do you, but the dinner is awkward.

“Can I ask you a question?” you blurt out.

“Of course.”

“Do you think Chris is pretty?”

Dalton’s brows furrow again as he mouths the question to himself. “I guess? Yeah.”

You nod and return to awkward silence. The walk back to your dorm is the same, and just as you did yesterday, you collapse onto your bed. Unwillingly, you cry yourself to sleep without changing your clothes or taking off your shoes.

On day three of your jealousy, you awake to see messy hair, dark circles, and bloodshot eyes looking back at you in the mirror. You make yourself presentable enough and begin walking to class. You decide to leave class early and meet Dalton at the art building. Even though you’re jealous and miserable, Dalton didn’t deserve to be treated like you did yesterday.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, you watch people file through the door as classes let out. There are only a few classes in this area today, so it should be easy to find Dalton. The door opens again, and Dalton walks out with Chris. You swallow harshly and look to the ground before walking away quickly. Your hopes that Dalton didn’t see you are crushed as he yells your name. Ignoring him, you continue walking toward your dorm. He catches up and wraps his hand around your forearm, spinning you to face him.

“Hey, where are you off to so fast?” he asks.

“It doesn’t matter, Dalton. Go back to Chris.” You try to pull your arm away, but he doesn’t let you. He moves with you as you pull harder.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Chris. I know, Dalton. So just go.”

“You know what?”

You look up at him as your free hand pries his fingers off your arm. Once free, you walk away as fast as you can. Safely in your dorm, you unlock your phone and see a missed text and a call from Dalton. As you debate blocking his number, another text comes through.

Dalton: ‘We need to talk.’

Dalton: ‘Now.’

Typing a single word, you respond: ‘Fine.’

A knock immediately sounds on your door, and you look through the peephole before opening it. Dalton walks into your room and rubs the back of his neck as he looks at you.

“What do you think is going on between me and Chris?”

“Why does this matter?”

“Why are you acting like it doesn’t? You have been acting completely different the last two days, and now you want to act like all of this is normal?”

“This is the new normal, get used to it, Dalton,” you snap.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dalton asks, raising his voice and his arms in exasperation.

“You tell me! I’m not the one who kissed Chris and then let my new best friend fall in love with me!” Your anger dissipates slightly after your outburst, but you continue breathing heavily.

“What?” Dalton whispers.

“I know you and Chris kissed at the frat party. And I want to be happy for you, Dalton, but I can’t. Not when I’ve been falling in love with you since the first time we met.”

“You’re jealous,” Dalton states. He knows better than to ask.

“No,” you respond quickly. “Maybe, yes.”

“Do you want to hear my side?”

“I think I’m good.”

“Because my side is that Chris kissed me at a frat party, not the other way around. And she only did it so that Nick wouldn’t know she was digging around his stuff. I never liked Chris like that. Then I met you.”

“So, because it happened before we met it’s okay?”

“Let me finish. I don’t like Chris that way and I never will.”

You look at Dalton, silently urging him to continue.

“Because I fell in love with you too. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that I wanted you in my life. Then I saw your smile, you held my hand when the power went out, and you left your classes early to go to lunch with me.”

Dalton closes the gap between you as he speaks. His hands raise to cup your face, and you wrap your fingers around his wrists.

“That kiss meant less than nothing. This one? This one is going to mean everything.”

You nod and look up into his eyes before closing yours. Dalton presses his lips to yours, one of his hands moving to hold the back of your head as he tilts your chin to deepen the kiss. You move your hands from his wrists to lay on his chest, pushing yourself closer to him.

When Dalton breaks the kiss, he lays his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry I got jealous,” you whisper.

“I’m flattered you like me enough to get jealous,” he responds with a smile.

You gently push his chest as you say, “Stop.”

“You know you can just talk to me though, right? Ask me anything and we can clear the air without going through that again. Because that was painful.”

“I know,” you agree with a nod.

“I guess Chris’s roommate was right about us,” Dalton muses.

“Derek’s girlfriend is Chris’s roommate?” You realize with a gasp.

You both begin laughing at how you were the last to realize your feelings for one another. Your phones buzz and Dalton rolls his eyes as he shows you the text.

Chris: ‘If you’re not already kissing, please get it over with.’

“Wait, who’s Derek?” Dalton asks.

“Careful, you’re starting to sound jealous,” you tease.

“Then I guess we’ll have to kiss that away,” Dalton states.

You happily agree, ignoring Chris’s texts as your jealousy becomes a distant memory.

[viinaten]

My favorite part about RWBY right now is how literally everyone stuck in the Ever After is experiencing the absolute Most on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Ruby is going through it. She’s jaded and traumatized. Hasn’t smiled in weeks. Lost her purpose. Doesn’t have a will to live. Etc.

Weiss? Just so fucking over it all. Everything keeps happening and it’s SO DUMB and SO INCONVENIENT. Why does nothing make sense here?

Yang and Blake? Thriving. Making out. Honest with their emotions and living their best lives kissing in a field of magic lilies.

Jaune? Homeboy just lived several years alone on an island suffering as his belief in all things good evaporates. He has gray hairs.

And like. We still don’t even know what’s going on in Remnant. Nora and Ren think two of their teammates are dead now? Penny got juiced. Winter is the Maiden. Is Qrow ok???

I miss Pyrrha.

[illuminatedquill]

Cyar'ika

A Sabine Wren & Ezra Bridger Story

Story Summary: Takes place during Ahsoka Season 2. Making a hasty exit from Peridea, Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger are finally heading home together - only without Ahsoka, who elected to stay behind to finish the mission she started. Feeling lost without the presence of her Master and the grim ordeal of facing Thrawn's resurgent Empire ahead, Sabine is facing her lowest point yet. However, her trial is just beginning as Ezra finally confronts his closest friend with the knowledge about her deal with Thrawn. And the conversation that follows will change everything between them.

*Fan-art by the amazing @rancidsugar! Used here with their permission, since it directly inspired this fanfic.

Author’s Note: With the fantastic news that Ahsoka S2 is now in development, I finally decided to take a crack at writing the next reunion for our favorite duo. It’s a long time coming, and we all know Sabine needs to come clean with Ezra about certain things she’s been hiding from him. Let’s see how he responds.

The star whale's mouth gaped open, as Huyang maneuvered the T-6 shuttle into its mouth. Sabine held her breath as the vessel slipped inside, warily keeping an eye on the enormous teeth that hovered directly over them.

"Easy does it," muttered Ezra. He stood between her and Huyang in the shuttle's cockpit, eyes closed and hand outstretched; through the Force, Sabine could feel her friend communicating with the purrgil. Reassuring waves of calm and peace flowed through the bond he had with the majestic beast, making sure that they were not crunched between its massive jaws.

Sabine gazed in admiration at Ezra's competence, in the easy confidence he had in his abilities. He had grown so much in his time away from home and truly become the Jedi that Kanan wished him to be.

He would be so proud of you, she thought with a pang of melancholy. Not for the first time, she wished Kanan was here to witness all of this.

Her thoughts turned to her own master, Ahsoka Tano, who had elected to stay behind to finish her task on Peridea. Sabine felt guilt trickle into her emotions, remembering their last conversation before she left.

"We're supposed to stick together, remember? I'm not leaving you."

"Thrawn is your mission. What's happening here on Peridea is mine. I must see this through. And Ezra will need your help in defeating Thrawn."

"I can't do this without you, master. There's so much more I need to learn."

"You already know everything you need. I have nothing more to offer you than this: just be yourself, Sabine. That's more than enough."

She closed her eyes, feeling the pang of melancholy sharpen into grief. Once again, another loved one had gone and there was nothing she could do about it.

As if reading her thoughts, Huyang said, "Do not grieve for Lady Tano, Sabine. She was only able to make her choice because of you."

"You mean it was my fault," said Sabine bitterly.

"Not at all. It is because you are going home that she was able to stay on Peridea to deal with the threat there. She trusted you, Sabine Wren, to deal with Thrawn."

You know I can always count on you, right?

Sabine felt a small smile escape through the gloom of her feelings, remembering the young boy who had uttered those words a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away . . .

Ahsoka had told her the same in their last conversation. Her master was counting on her to see this through. And she would. She promised herself, and to Ahsoka, that she would do whatever it takes to ensure that it was done.

And then she would bring Ahsoka home, so they could all finally live in peace.

The shuttle shuddered and a bright spectrum of lights filled the cabin; Sabine squinted her eyes at the dazzling array, almost blinded by the light show in front of them.

"Here we go," said Ezra. She looked at him, seeing the satisfied smile on his face. Sabine, not able to help herself, reached forward and squeezed his hand.

Ezra turned to look at her. "Thanks for coming back," she said.

He squeezed her hand back affectionately. "Did it in record time, too," he teased. "What's your excuse?"

Sabine rolled her eyes. "There was a war still going on, remember?"

"Uh-huh," replied Ezra, sounding unconvinced. "I guess I'll let it slide."

"This will take a while," Huyang said, interrupting their banter. "Ezra, if you would please tend to Lady Wren's injuries? I will stay here and keep an eye on things while you two rest."

Sabine blinked and then a wave of exhaustion and pain swept over her; she had forgotten how desperate their escape had been until now when Huyang had said something.

Ezra blinked and muttered a curse. "Right. Sorry, Sabine." He reached forward and lifted her from the co-pilot seat. She started to protest but another wave of exhaustion slipped past her defenses and only a weak mumble escaped her lips as Ezra carried her to the med-bay.

"You're awfully quiet," observed Sabine while he finished patching up her wounds some time later.

Ezra carefully applied a final bandage to a cut on her right upper forearm before replying, "Huyang's right. You shouldn't beat yourself up about Ahsoka. She needed to stay. And you needed to go home."

He sat back and double-checked his handiwork. "Can you walk?"

Sabine attempted to sit up from the medical bed but was immediately faced with a dozen sharp pinpricks of pain from all over her body. "You mean today?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Ezra smiled briefly at her attempt at humor before saying, "Bedrest it is, then."

Sabine grimaced but laid back in the bed. "This is doing wonders for my confidence," she muttered.

Ezra reached out and held her hand. "Surviving Peridea is an achievement only a few can claim. It's an exclusive club, Sabine. You're now a part of it."

She snorted. "Well," she mused, "if Thrawn can do it, then I sure as hell can."

At the mention of Thrawn, she saw Ezra's face become troubled. A flash of insight from the Force revealed something dark roiling beneath Ezra's confidence . . .

"What is it?" she asked quietly. "I felt that."

Ezra let go of her hand and sat back in his chair. She could practically see the gears whirring away inside his head as he thought through some particularly difficult decision.

Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. "I found the purrgils," he said slowly.

"I can see that," replied Sabine. "Seeing as though we're in one."

Ezra reached up to rub the back of his head. He's nervous about something, she noted. Her stomach began to sink, feeling the direction of his thoughts; small seeds of doubt were sprouting in his mind.

About her.

He looked up at her. "So did Thrawn," he said.

She inhaled sharply. "He was there?"

Ezra nodded. "He guessed what my next move was. I managed to get ahead of him, thanks to Hera's intervention but . . ."

"But what, Ezra?" Sabine felt like she didn't want to know the answer.

He reached down to his belt and took out his comm-link. "He sent me a message," he said quietly.

Ezra clicked on the comm-link and a conversation began to play.

Thrawn: "I must congratulate you on your success today, Ezra Bridger. You've shown great loyalty to your friends, Sabine Wren and Ahsoka Tano."

Ezra: "Not that you would understand anything about that. I'll be seeing you later, Grand Admiral."

Thrawn: "Indeed you will. Perhaps to a changed galaxy. All thanks to your friend, Sabine. How different things would be if she did not care so much about you."

Ezra: ". . . What's that supposed to mean?"

Thrawn: "Oh, she didn't tell you? Unfortunate. Be sure to give her my thanks when you reunite."

The recording stopped. Ezra gazed at Sabine, eyes unreadable, waiting for her answer.

Sabine couldn't bring herself to look at him. She just stared at the comm-link in his hand, wanting to be anywhere else than here, wanting a black hole to emerge and suck her into its void. Any hell would be preferable instead of having to face an Ezra who knew about what she had done.

"Sabine." His voice was soft, not accusatory. Almost pleading.

At last, she finally found her voice, weak as it was. "What do you want me to say, Ezra?" she asked. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"I want you to say whatever it is you want to say. I'm just going to listen," he said.

She folded her arms over her stomach; it felt like everything important inside her was threatening to spill out. "I'm not going to apologize," she whispered.

"Okay," was all he said.

"You weren't there. I had to make a choice. No one else was there. It was just me. Ahsoka - I thought Baylan had killed her. She was gone. And you were still gone, and I had the map." She hated how desperate her voice sounded.

Ezra, true to his word, didn't say anything. He just watched her.

"I couldn't lose you like I lost my family. Like how I thought I had lost Ahsoka. I wasn't - I wasn't strong enough to lose you a second time. My best friend." Tears threatened to blur her vision; a sob, rising in her throat steadily, almost robbed her voice of what little strength it had. She fought through it.

"So, I handed the map over. I made the deal with Thrawn to find you. I betrayed everything you and Kanan and everyone else sacrificed and died for. All just so I could see you again."

At last, she turned to look at him. The tears fell freely now down her face. "I doomed the galaxy for you, Ezra Bridger. And the worst part of it is, I'd do it again. Even knowing how it would all end."

Ezra gazed at her for a long moment and then turned away. Sabine struggled to sit-up and pleaded, "Ezra, please say something. Say anything."

He stood up abruptly. She blinked at him in surprise. "Say that you hate me and just get this over with," she said, resigned. Her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces but this was the price she knew would be paid the moment the map left her hand.

He stood over her. She waited for him to say the words that would end their friendship.

Instead, he clasped his hands over the sides of her face and leaned forward, gently touching his forehead with hers. Her eyes widened with surprise - and then with overwhelming gratitude as she felt the love and reassurance from him flow through their bond in the Force.

Sabine couldn't hold it back anymore. She started to openly weep. "After all this?" she cried. "Even with all that I've done?"

"Always," he reassured her. "I forgive you. Always. It'll be okay, Sabine. We'll figure it out, together."

"I'm weak," she said. "I did something so bad."

"You are not weak," replied Ezra firmly. "You are enough. You are extraordinary, Sabine. And it's not like I haven't done things I regret, you know? The Sith Holocron, you remember?"

Sabine shook her head. "This isn't the same! This is the whole galaxy that's at stake."

Ezra chuckled. "It's not a competition, first of all. And when hasn't the galaxy been at stake? We've dealt with Thrawn before, we'll do it again."

The guilt surged up within her, refusing to be assuaged by his words. "But - "

"But nothing," Ezra said sternly. "Sabine. Listen to me. Did you build the gigantic hyperdrive ring that Thrawn used to get back?"

She stared at him, thrown off by the sudden question. "Uh, no."

"Did you put Morgan Elsbeth onto his path as a partner? Did you hire Baylan and Shin?"

Sabine saw where his line of questions was heading. Grimacing, she said, "No, but - "

Ezra interrupted her. "Yes, you had a role in his return. But not all of it belongs to you, do you understand? He couldn't have returned without a lot of help, not just you."

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "I get it. I think."

"Good," he said. "No more feeling guilty. We need to be focused for what lies ahead."

Sabine looked at him. "We?" she asked.

He nodded. "You're stuck with me, Sabine Wren. Whether you like it or not."

She smiled, considering his words. "I guess that's not so bad." She looked him over and shook her head in amazement.

"What is it?" Ezra asked.

"When did you grow up so quickly, goober?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Haven't heard that nickname in a while. Since we were kids," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "Guess I can't really call you that anymore, huh."

Ezra winked at her. "You can call me whatever you like, Sabine."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'll think about it," she said. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled, interrupting the conversation. Sabine flushed with embarrassment.

Ezra laughed. "I'll heat up some food. Be right back."

Watching him leave, the moment he was out of earshot, Sabine said softly, "I'll be here, cyar'ika."

[demonsanddemogorgons]

Most Precious Gift - A Joseph Quinn Christmas One-Shot

Just a little Christmas blurb I came up with. Enjoy.

It's almost Christmas and you just aren't in the mood for it without Joe around.

Word Count: 2k

18+ for language and mild/implied smut

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and you were at home getting dressed for your ultrasound shift at the hospital. Joe had been away for about a month for filming his new movie. You missed him beyond description, but you knew he still had work left to do. You walked through the kitchen to your entryway to put your shoes on, completely ignoring the undecorated state of your house. There was no point in decorating since Joe couldn’t be there to enjoy it with you. Your friends kept asking what you were doing for Christmas, and you were tired of responding with I don’t know, probably just stay home. They encouraged you to fly to where you grew up to be with your family since Joe wasn’t home, but you just weren’t feeling it. Spending the holidays without him just didn’t feel right, even if you were still with people you loved. You couldn’t wait for it all to be over so everyone’s cheer would stop making you want to vomit. Scrooge wasn’t half bad; he just wanted everyone to shut up about how happy they were. Holly Jolly was waaaaaay on the other side of the emotional spectrum from where you were.

You headed out to your car and began the drive to work, losing focus, wondering how Joe was doing, what he was doing right now in Malta, how filming was coming along. He hadn’t called or texted in two days; you tried not to be upset about it because you knew he was busy, and it was difficult with time changes. It was just hard being alone for so long and so close to Christmas.

You got to work and tried distracting yourself by indulging in it. If a patient arrived, you took them for their scan before a coworker even had a chance to get out of their chair. After a few hours of this, they began to notice.

“You’ve done like double the number of patients today that is typical, and we haven’t done anything. Take it easy, there’s three of us here today. You don’t need to overwhelm yourself,” your coworker Maddie said to you. You let your lips turn up into a small, not very reassuring smile.

“I’m just trying to focus on something else besides Joe,” you replied, feeling tears well up in your eyes and trying to hold them back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing her hand on your shoulder. “Being apart is never easy, but you don’t have to be alone. I’m having a Christmas Eve party tomorrow night. Why don’t you come over? I’m planning drinking games,” she smirked, nudging you with a giggle.

"I really appreciate that, Maddie, but I’m just not feeling it this year. I’d rather just stay on my couch and pretend it’s any other normal day.”

“Ignoring something doesn’t make it go away,” she said, her tone changing. You knew she was trying to be supportive, but you were getting that from everyone lately, and you were a bit over it. You were too emotionally disconnected at this point for anything to make an impact. You nodded and turned back to the computer to finish your paperwork on your last patient, trying to politely signal to her that the conversation was over. “Please let me do the next one. I really don’t want the supervisor asking why you did way more than the rest of us today,” she said as she walked back over to her chair, realizing you just needed left alone in your element.

You finished out your shift after trying to let Maddie and Lexie share some of the work, regardless of your apprehension.

“If you change your mind, the party is at 6 tomorrow at my place,” Maddie said as you were gathering your things and putting your coat on.

“Thanks,” you said somberly. You did appreciate her efforts deep down; it was nice to have someone to look out for you.

You headed home, eager to put on your fuzzy pajamas, fix yourself a cup of hot cocoa and plant your ass on the couch for the next two days. When you pulled into your driveway, your eyes were drawn to the front window where you could see twinkling lights. Upon looking closer, you saw your Christmas tree decorated and lit.

“What the...” you said out loud to yourself, trailing off. What? Who? How? You climbed out of your car and headed towards the door. Once getting inside, you took your shoes off on the welcome mat in the entry way and hung your coat on the hook, making your way into the kitchen. It was decorated with Christmas knick-knacks and tea towels – all kinds of things you had packed away in the basement and didn’t bother to get out this year. You passed through to the living room, seeing the Christmas tree decorated and lit, an evergreen garland lying out over the fireplace mantle with lights strung throughout it, stockings hanging, more knick-knacks set out, a Christmas blanket laid neatly on back of the couch, the works. Your heart swelled at the sight; you could feel that familiar feeling you normally got during the Christmas season washing warmth over you. But who-

Just then in your peripheral vision, you saw a figure pass into the room through the doorway beside the Christmas tree from the stairway. Your eyes changed focus to see Joe standing there, dressed in a Christmas sweater and jeans. It took you a minute to process what you were seeing so you were frozen, staring for a moment as your eyes widened.

“J-Joe?” was all you could muster out.

“Hey, lovey,” he said, making his way closer to you. He put his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his chest, pressing your face into him as he hugged you. Okay, he really is here. I can touch him, feel him, smell him. You pulled away and looked up into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you were filming.”

He put his hand on your cheek and brushed his thumb along it.

“We got some things done ahead of schedule, so they gave us a break for the holiday,” he responded quietly and soothingly, looking down into your eyes with the most loving look.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you said with a giggle.

“Maybe this will help then, yeah?” he said with a smirk as he leaned in and put his lips on yours. Fireworks exploded in your head. You’d missed him so much, and every time he kissed you felt like the first time. Your lips parted slightly to allow his tongue to enter, running along your bottom lip. You hummed in response, moving your arms up to be around his neck and pull him closer as your lips worked in unison. You pulled away slowly and leaned your forehead against his.

“God, I’ve missed that,” you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckled, rubbing his hands on your lower back as he held you close.

“I’ve missed you so much, too, darling.”

You pulled back a little to take another look at your freshly decorated house.

“Did you do all of this?” you asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Of course I did, baby. You love Christmas, why didn’t you decorate?”

You sighed and put your hands on his forearms, running your thumbs over them lovingly.

“I couldn’t, not without you. I hate celebrating knowing you’re working and can’t be here to enjoy it with me.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“I’m here now, love. I was hoping to catch you before you went to work, but my flight got delayed. I arrived not long after you left and saw the house undecorated. It made me so sad, darling; I know how much you love it to be. So, I decided to surprise you.”

You smiled up at him and pulled him in for another hug.

“Thank you. God, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, my love. And this isn’t the whole surprise.”

You pulled out of the hug and looked up at him in confusion.

“C’mere,” he said, dragging you to the kitchen pantry. He opened the door to show ingredients for cookies. “I thought we could spend the day together tomorrow baking Christmas cookies. I got everything for snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, those ones you like with the chocolate kiss in the middle. And for tonight, I got out the electric blanket and some chocolate covered pretzels. I’ll make up some hot cocoa, and we can watch Rudolph and Frosty together.”

Like the Grinch, you could feel your heart growing three sizes at his words. He was bringing the Christmas excitement back into you.

“Joe, that sounds perfect.” You pulled him in for another tender kiss. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

“I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re home. That’s the best Christmas present I could have ever asked for.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

You looked up at him with a smirk.

“I have to be honest, Joe. I had a Christmas surprise put away for you that I didn’t expect to need, but now that you’re home...” you trailed off as he looked at you with a confused face. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Alright, love.” Joe reluctantly headed for the couch while you ran upstairs. What could she possibly be doing? You were gone for over five minutes when he began to wonder what was going on. He walked over to the bottom of the stairs and looked up.

“Darling? You alright?” he called.

“Yeah,” your voice echoed from the bedroom. “Almost done.”

Joe stood there confused, but his attention was quickly caught by you standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in a red bra and panties with white fluffy borders under an open red silk wrap, matching thigh high socks, and a Santa hat. You’d gotten a Christmas lingerie set to wear for him but didn’t expect to be using in this year since he wasn’t supposed to be home. His mouth fell open a little and his eyes widened as he watched you make your way down the stairs. Once you got to the second step from the bottom, he stood in front of you and looked up at you, as if to worship you, while reaching for you. He wrapped his arms around your thighs under your butt and lifted you to him. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked down at him. He placed kisses on your collarbone and chest.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin as he kissed, making you shiver. He was reacting exactly how you’d hoped he would. “Darling, I’d like to live to make it to Christmas,” he joked, earning a giggle from you.

“I don’t know, I think you’ll feel pretty alive after this,” you smirked, leaning down to kiss him.

He carried you back to the living room, his lips continuing their work on yours. He pulled away to throw you on your back onto the couch, and climbed down so he was hovering over you.

“I’ve been such a good boy,” he said softly, earning a smile and a giggle from you as he began kissing down your body, unwrapping his most precious gift with extreme care.

My Master List

The two cups of hot cocoa he had made while you were upstairs sat forgotten on the end table as red fabric was tossed onto the floor. Joe managed to bring the Christmas warmth and spirit back into you in more ways than one. You were truly a different person when he was around; he made you better in every aspect – sight, thoughts, actions. You didn’t need gifts to feel loved and appreciated. Joe was good at making you feel that way all on his own. He was the best gift you could have ever received, for any holiday.

[erogenousmind]

Ray Gun

“I keep telling you, it’s not a ray gun. I don’t even know what a ray gun is. The elliptic dish is designed to focus the right frequency range of delta waves, but in general, once the network is trained, you don’t even need the dish. Due to the inverse square law for...you know what, never mind. Just sit for a few more minutes while it finishes collecting data.”

Dr. Gehirn looked every bit the mad scientist with his long white lab coat and disheveled hair. Charlotte, for her, part, made the perfect co-ed victim, her long blonde hair and ditzy smile belying her status as an honors student. Electrical engineering and computer science had never been her forte though, so she had been happily quizzing the doctor about his latest experiment even as she participated in it.

“Oh, that’s what these doohickeys are doing, right?” she pointed a manicured and painted fingernail up toward her temple and to one of the electrodes stuck to it with a dot of conducting gel. “That’s so you can read all my brainwaves and stuff, right?”

The doctor sighed. She would be worth it at least, even as tedious as this part was. Despite appearances, she was smart and capable, and, more importantly, trusting. Even if somehow it didn’t work, she would go on her way, none the wiser, not suspecting a thing. “That’s right, Charlotte. Although, they really just make it easier to record. Brainwaves can be picked up from quite a distance, particularly if you know what you are looking for. And in just another moment,” he glanced over to a monitor filled with various windows of numbers and wave forms. “we’ll know exactly what we are looking for.” Another torrent of numbers printed onto the screen. “There we are. The network has now been tuned to your particular brainwave spectrum.”

“Oh neat! So it can like, read my thoughts?” Charlotte bubbled.

“Something like that. But more interesting to my research is the inverse problem. It should actually be able to predict what causes your thoughts. It just needs to validate first. One moment.” The doctor typed furiously for a second, finishing with an overly dramatic stab at the enter key. “This might feel a little odd. You might even feel some strange emotions or feel like thoughts are popping into your head that have no place there. That’s okay. The network is still just learning.”

“So are you making an artificial intelligence thing or something? Oh, is it going to try to act like me or think like me or something? It’d be like I had a twin or something, only it’s a computer. That would be...woa...woah...that’s...um...” Charlotte rocked unsteadily in her seat, a look of concern crossing her face for the first time.

“It’s an artificial neural network, not AI. Everyone confuses them, but it really just a matter of multiplying...ugh, forget it. I’m sorry, my dear, if this is a little unpleasant. It’s just confirming that it can generate the right emotional or mental state based on an electromagnetic input, and it’s quickly cycling through several of them, which must be quite disconcerting. It will pass quickly, I promise.”

“I...I don’t know how I feel. I’m angry for a moment, then excited, then I feel like I want to laugh...it...I don’t think I like it. I think I want it to stop.” She started to reach up toward one of the wires dangling from her head.

“I told you, those are just sensors. The signal is being generated here. We probably don’t even need the contact probes anymore. But there, it all seems to be working correctly. Now the intensity check. How are you feeling right...now?”

Charlotte paused, her hand dangling in the air, looking lost in thought. “I feel...calm...really calm. Just relaxed.” Her hand slowly dropped back down to her side. “Like everything is fine. I thought I should be nervous because you keep messing with my thoughts and some of them felt...strange. But none of that matters right now. I feel happy...content...”

“Very good. And now?” he asked, tapping away at the keyboard.”

“I’m...scared. I’m more scared than I’ve ever been. I still feel so calm though. Passive...But you can mess with my head. You can make me feel what you want with that thing. You were giving me thoughts earlier...and now I’m feeling angry. I feel like you tricked me. You lured me here to mess with my head and I hate you for it. I feel like I want to hurt you...

“It’s so amazing that you were able to make a ray gun that can control my emotions like this. You are so incredibly brilliant. And it’s such an honor that you are testing it on me first. It was my mind you wanted to control first and that’s so exciting...that’s so...hot...mmm....those thoughts you were given me earlier. I don’t think I was supposed to notice them with everything else going on. But I could see myself...with you. I was on my knees looking up at you, and you were so...” Charlotte groaned as she rubbed her thighs together.

The doctor smiled at his subject. “You are doing so well. Thank you for talking through what you were thinking and feeling. You are very perceptive. This...ray gun...is able to control your feelings now. And it can give you thoughts. It knows your mind well enough to give exactly the stimulus to produce whatever response it wants with...” He took the mouse and flicked the scroll wheel over one of the many windows showing row after row of inscrutable numbers. “ 97.4% accuracy. That can probably get a little higher with some more data. But it is certainly good enough for our purposes today. Because you want this now, don’t you? You want me to control your thoughts. You want me to control you. It excites you, doesn’t it?”

The heat between Charlotte’s legs had been building the whole time he spoke. He seemed so powerful to her now. So intelligent and commanding and incredible. Who wouldn’t want to let him think for them? “Yes! More than anything. Use your ray gun on me. Decide what I think. Decide what I feel. Decide who I am. Take my mind! Use it! Or just tell me what to do. Tell me what to think. You don’t even need your invention. Control me. Take me! It makes me so hot. Make me yours. Own me forever!”

Dr. Gehirn chuckled softly. “Quite the response. I wonder how much of this is my doing and how much we just awakened something inside of you. No matter. There may be a small issue with the ‘forever’ you just mentioned. It will take much more research, but it isn’t clear at all that these effects last much longer than stimuli are being input into your delta band. Given some time, your brain will probably resume it’s original thought patterns with no more than a memory of how you behaved.”

Charlotte was heartbroken. She hadn’t known it 5 minutes ago, but it was so clear to her now that she wanted nothing more than to be this man’s slave. To give her mind and body to him. To be his plaything. His property. His toy. She felt like she could cry.

“Oh no, none of that. There is another possibility. You see, the longer your thoughts are entrained by the signal, the harder it gets to snap back. Little by little, you forget to think on your own. Left long enough, your mind would willingly think whatever it was told and forget it ever came up with any thoughts on its own. Then I could put whatever I wanted in that pretty little head of yours, and it would never occur to you to think anything different. How does that sound?”

Tears were beginning to well up in Charlotte’s eyes now. How did it sound? She couldn’t imagine anything making her happier. She was too emotional to speak. She nodded her head vigorously.

“Good girl.” He smiled the warmest smile at her and she felt herself melt on the spot. “This might feel a little like going to sleep. We are going to gradually withdraw the signal until your mind is doing nothing at all and then slowly and steadily begin putting thoughts into your head. They might feel like dreams but more vivid...more intense, more...permanent.” He clicked his mouse a few times and, pausing for a moment to look her up and down again, pressed a single key.

“And now your ray gun will work on me forever?” Charlotte asked, a smile growing and growing on her face. “You can control my thoughts for good?”

Doctor Gehirn nodded. “That’s right, Charlotte.” Her eyes slowly grew wider. Her mouth fell open. Another moment passed and her eyes rolled back, fluttering as new ideas and a new self were written into her mind. “And the first thing we are going to do is teach you the proper technical name for this device.”

Her legs fell open as her body relaxed more and the doctor noticed just how excited the experiment had made her. “Well...maybe the second thing.”

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Aaand that's three in a row where I've basically ignored canon and started from scratch

design notes under the cut

Alright, starting from the top-

I always found Meeshell kind of bland, so I worked from the concept up. I wanted to lean into a different aspect of the original story, so I skimmed over the Anderson version, and here's what I came up with!

First off, I'm changing the rules. She has to be entirely submerged in water to access her mermaid form, no h2o shenanigans, I'm sorry

Second, we're giving her a new conflict, one centered around her story. In the original fairy tale the Little Mermaid is the youngest of many sisters, and she desires humanity the most.

We get the wanderlust and the romance a lot, but there's one characteristic that gets glossed over a lot- mermaids don't have souls. So, we're gonna take that shit and RUN with it. I'm thinking like... The Last Unicorn. There is a fundamental difference in how mermaids and other creatures experience emotion. For mermaids it's just... Less. She's not miserable or even unhappy necessarily, she's just kind of on autopilot compared to a human. She doesn't feel much at all, and what she does experience is very dampened

Then, she gets her human form, and the full spectrum of emotion is opened up to her. Mer Mishelle is quiet, unexpressive, generally apathetic. She's still Michelle, with Michelle opinions and Michelle thoughts, but all the flavor has been drained out of her.

Another piece of original canon I'm bringing in is that the floor is knives. Not really, but Michelle experiences a lot of fatigue and pain if she tries to walk for too long, so she's an ambulatory wheelchair user (the wheelchairs name is Coral)

She knows that her story involves putting her fate in someone else's hands in a time where she won't be able to communicate the way she prefers, so she kind of takes after Briar. She's not gonna waste a damn minute. She's super confident, and bubbly, and hyper-chatty, and has almost 0 filter! She's going to say what she thinks for as long as she can as loud as she can!!!

[not-wrong-just-different]

Hello Questies!!

This post has been a long time coming, and here it finally is. Willow, and more importantly, the Willow Fandom, changed my life, so, thank you all for everything!

Now Presenting…

How to Get a Girlfriend by Watching Willow 2022:

Step 1. See gif of Kit on top of Jade when she was saying goodbye like on Pinterest.

Step 2. Figure out the name of the show with the hot girls.

Step 3. Rewatch the original Willow.

Step 4. Watch Willow 2022

Step 5. Realize that the feelings about other women that you have been suppressing since you were 17 are coming back to bite you in the ass.

Step 6. Reject compulsory heterosexuality.

Step 7. Call your best friend in a panic.

Step 8. Try for weeks to try to get anyone you know to watch Willow. Fail.

Step 9. Sign back into an old tumblr account and start following people just as obsessed as you are.

Step 10. Read horny fanfic. A LOT of hot horny fanfic.

Step 11. Get your best friend so fed up with you that she invited you to an LGBTQIA+ friendly community event more than an hour away just so she doesn’t have to be the only person hearing about Willow anymore.

Step 12. Make lifelong friends!!

Step 13. After several months of trying to convince people to watch Willow literally steal the TV hookup and force people to watch it.

Step 14. Share the link to the Free Willow website in the Facebook group chat so everyone can watch more episodes.

Step 15. Get private Facebook message from girl wanting to talk about Willow.

Step 16. Make friends with said girl and get a huge crush.

Step 17. Start hanging out outside of group events.

Step 18. Be awkward.

Step 19. Continue to be awkward for several months until one half of the friend group pulls you aside, and one half pulls her aside and endure an intervention.

Step 20. Ask girl on date. (She says yes!!)

Step 21. Go on date and realize that despite the fact that there are over 12 years of university between the two of you, that you both read dozens of the same articles on Reddit and Quora about how to act on a first date, since neither of you have had one before.

Step 22. Get mutually pissed off at the lack of official peer reviewed research on how to have a healthy relationship. Decide to work on writing and publishing together. (So far, the only thing actually peer reviewed is our relationship, which only started due to peer review.)

Step 23. Make plans for more dates.

Step 24. Be happy!!!

Step 25. Realize that communication is hard and misunderstandings suck after reading more horny Willow fanfic.

Step 26. Write 5 page love letter in proper MLA Epistle format and give to girl.

Step 27. Become official girlfriends!

Step 28. Receive photos of her extensive collection of swords and blades.

Step 28b. Implode. (Like seriously. It was SO hot.)

Step 29. After being girlfriends for two months, bring up Willow again and find out that she doesn’t actually care that much about Willow?!?!?!!!! She likes it but was mostly using it as an excuse to talk to you?!?

Step 30. Consider breaking up with girl (not really!!) because she isn’t actually as obsessed with Willow as you are.

Step 31. Decide to share your gratitude with the ongoing Willow fandom for changing your life instead of worrying about making everyone in your life love it as much as you do. 😂

————

Thanks to the creators who helped me work through the emotions of steps 5 and 6 and those who helped with steps 10 and 25. @ksfreckles @geek-and-nina @ourlonelymoon @commanderbuffy @acre-of-wheat @wigster07 @vetiverriver @barmaid-anon @swashbucklery @spybrarian @isabrella @lowkeyed1 @savewillow2022 and so many others!

While I’m at it: Thanks to @ourlonelymoon for reminding me I don’t have to earn help, @acre-of-wheat for helping me remember that being on the spectrum doesn’t make me unloveable (and for reminding me that letter writing is valid communication) @commanderbuffy for proving that love isn’t just for teenagers, @wigster07 for showing second chances and that character growth requires tons of hard work @geek-and-nina for perfectly portraying the emotions and joy of falling in love, and @ksfreckles for being the first person I talked to online and for writing the story that means everything to me.

Thank you Willow Fandom and Willow Creators! I do not know where I would be today if it wasn’t for my lovely, Willow-obsessed online community. 💕 ⚔️ 😉