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#fic: eternal flame
strangersequel · 2 years
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* ✰. *.˚៹ 🔦🚲 : Diana Henderson Fearful by nature, Diana Henderson never imagined that one day he would embark on an adventure to defend her life, but she is forced to leave her zone of comfort when you end up getting lost in the Mirkwood during the search for Will Byers, entering a world completely scary and with dangers around every corner.
* ✰. *.˚៹ 🔦🚲 : tag: @samwilsonns @stranger-things-ocs @stardustocs @starlit-ocs @allaboutocs @ocs-supporting-ocs @ocappreciationtag @ocappreciation @oc-challenges @queerocs @foxesandmagic @fyeahstrangerthingsocs @hiddenqveendom  
* ✰. *.˚៹ 🔦🚲 : Isis gif by: @lovelikewarcreations
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APRICITY: flame of eternal winter | KTH | TEASER
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apricity. (n) the warm of the sun during winter.
Pairing: deaf! partially blind! Taehyung x fem! Reader
Summary: It’s been 300 years since the world as we knew it, had ended. Man’s own creation had taken over society, forcing the people to go into hiding. At least those who were not deemed “worthy” of living in the machines’ perfect city.  Three hundred years of eternal coldness. Three hundred years of living in fear, with the threat of death at the corner. But even in that eternal winter, a flower bloomed in between the chaos. Or in which you escape your supposedly perfect life and find yourself in the arms of Kim Taehyung. A man whose soul was more beautiful than the stars above the sky. A forbidden love. A protected chaos. And a story that should have ended with a kiss rather than bitter tears. 
Warnings: angst, fluff, character death, heavy angst, dystopian! AU, artificial intelligence controls the world, futuristic! AU, death, blood, warm love, age gap, this story touches themes of physical disabilities as well as heavy discrimination, (more will be added with the entire story)
Word Count: 800 words (for the teaser)
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In many ways, in many forms existed love. 
In many stories, in many dreams there were feelings. 
A human attachment. A soft design of the human heart. 
You hummed to yourself as you sat down against the naked cherry tree. It was still beautifully mesmerising to you how people managed to live like this. Underground. Hiding from the machines that threatened to kill them if they were to step foot outside. You still wondered how people had adapted so quickly to living like this, always in the shadows of the eternal winter that had fallen over this world. 
You felt Taehyung’s presence next to you before he sat down, offering you a warm smile as he leaned back against the tree, his leg touching yours and you sighed at the simplicity of this happiness you were feeling. 
“You looked lonely.”
He spoke. His voice was deep and soothing you couldn’t help the calm smile that stretched over your lips. You turned to look at him, eyes meeting his own as you lost yourself in his dark galaxy and crystal ocean of secrets and desires. 
“I was thinking.”
He read your lips as you spoke. Wishing for nothing else to hear your voice over all the sounds that existed around him yet he was unaware of their nature. How he wished he could listen to you talk during dinner or softly humming to yourself as you cooked something for him. He wanted to listen to you read to him before going to sleep, he wanted to listen to the words you spoke, not just read them through the soft movement of your kissable lips. 
“You never told me how it was.”
Your head tilted and he continued, breaking eye contact as he looked beyond the vastness of the underground forest. 
“You never speak of your life up there, in the High Ground. I know nothing of your past.”
His eyes met yours once more in a dance of emotions you couldn’t grasp. His blue eye felt like an open window to his soul, the key to his hidden secrets even if the world wasn’t seen through that beautiful blue ocean of his. While his brown eye, dark in its own perfection. Sincere in its own gaze, awaited for you to speak so that he could read. Awaited your answer. Patiently. 
“It’s not something I’m proud of, nor something that joys me to remember.”
Taehyung grabbed your hand in his larger palm, a silent way of telling you it was alright. A silent way of saying he understood, at least to an extent. You squeezed his hand in quiet thankfulness. He knew it must not be easy to remember your prior life, your calculated and cold life. 
To some point, he knew. He understood why you were so closed-off with your past. The machines had taken control of the world. Discarding those who were “unworthy” of living in their “perfect paradise” or the High Ground as they called it. How ironic it had been for humanity to succumb to their own creation. 
But even in the end of the world, you gave Taehyung hope in a hopeless life. He gave you warmth in an icy existence. And together, you both completed each other in a way you never thought possible of actually existing. You lost yourself in his mesmerising eyes, the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen were Taehyung’s to own. How dare the machines, the Governing Entity, disregard such beauty from being worthy of living? How dare a heartless robot dictate who was allowed to live? Why did a thing decide over a human's fate?
You had found such beauty in the Underground you never wanted to go back up there to a city that was mathematically perfect, with apparently perfect people that lived supposedly perfect lives. That kind of perfection was a raw illusion, the beauty you had found under those ideal houses was a rough beauty. A natural beauty you couldn’t even think of letting go. 
Taehyung has become your home, your safety, your paradise. He had welcomed you into his life with open arms when you were a stranger to his people, to his own heaven. But he allowed you to understand his way of living. He gave you a choice and you chose to stay by his side. 
Forever. 
Or at least, for as long as you two loved each other for he often says that love wins it all.
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A/N: Hi, darlings! Sooo this was highly inspired by IU's song "Love wins all" ft. Taehyung and, well this came out. I really hope you will like it and are excited to read this Tae dystopian! AU. 
This story will be exclusive for my Golden Darlings on Ko-Fi, here's the link if you are interested in supporting me with the Golden Membership, darlings!
January/26/2024
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nalyra-dreaming · 4 months
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New ficlet: Eternal Flame
What would New Year's be without a little pain, right?
🎶 Do you feel the same?
The ache in his chest is a hot ball of fire, not warming him but weighing him down, rooting him to the spot.
Yes, he feels the same.
He can admit that now. Has admitted it, in ways that do not quite match the words, but were understood, he knows that.
And yet understanding seems not to have been enough.
Or maybe it fell short simply because of what else happened.
Is there a way to move on from what was?
Can he?
… should he?
Read more on Ao3
HAPPY NEW YEAR's EVERYONE!
Thank you for reading, thank you for being here - thank you for sharing this wonderful show with me!
Here is to the year we finally get new content, whoop whoop!! :)
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And now I'll get myself a drink - well, the first one.^^
Big hugs to everyone!
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emerald-emerlad · 9 months
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Arcane Order Week Day 6 - Outfits (with a bit of color symbolism)
Another oneshot written in half an hour :)
Word Count: 556 & @arcaneorderweek
“Welcome to Thrift Treasures, please keep everything organized,” the teenager at the front desk says in a bored tone, reminding Nari of the pink-haired wizard. Douxie flashes them a smile and tugs Nari towards the back, shaking with excitement. 
“You can calm down, you know,” Nari chuckles. “I hope I don’t disappoint you with my.. What did you call it again? Lack of…”
“Lack of taste,” he grins at her. “I mean, green is your color and all, but you’ve been wearing the same dull sweater for the past week. I figured it’s time to get you something more… you. You’re going to love this.”
“How is this not my style?” she protests, but continues following him none-the-less. The store is rows and rows of shirts, sweaters, jackets, and pants all hung up on white hangers, organized by color and size. Douxie seems to know exactly where to go, and eventually stops in front of a green section, grinning again when Nari’s eyes light up. “There’s so much!”
“Pick something good!” he exclaims, waving his hands around. “Whatever you’d like.”
Nari runs her hand along the fabric, listening to the clatter as the hangers bump against each other. Douxie was right, she does love it. So many choices, unlike back home where all they wore was armor, preparing for fights that would never come.
In the end, she picks a paint splattered mint tank top and small, pine colored shawl that wrapped cozily around her shoulders. Douxie gives her embroidered jeans and a blue hairpin. When she looks in the mirror, Nari can’t help but feel… different. Older.
“My siblings would be flabbergasted,” she jokes, wrapping the shawl tighter. “We never dressed like this back.. Back then. I wonder what they would choose, if they were here.”
Approximately half an hour after Nari and Douxie bought the clothes and left the thrift store, two tall figures enter the same one, one looking excited and the other bored. “Welcome to Thrift Treasures, please- well, okay! No need to be rude about it,” the teenager yawns as the intimidating people ignore them and brush past. 
“I don’t get humans,” Bellroc mutters. “Who in the world wears this?” They pull out an oversized bright pink graphic tee, with the words ‘BEST HUSBAND EVER', and then an arrow pointing to the side, which ends up pointing towards Skrael. 
“It’s not bad,” Skrael says, picking out a blue flannel and putting on, though it is extremely large for his frail frame. “I think some humans have good styles.” 
“Keyword there is some,” Bellroc murmurs, distracted as they pull a tight red turtleneck, looking at it in the mirror and smiling a little. “Anyways, why are we here again?”
“We need to fit in,” he rolls his eyes and grabs a smaller camp shirt, this one ripped around the arms. “We can’t go around looking for Nari wearing… this.” he gestures to his black robe. 
Bellroc scoffs, but nods in approval when they find a flame red motorcycle jacket. Skrael ends up wearing a worn, sky blue sweater with dark spirals covering the arms and large knife earrings. The teenager at the checkout raises their eyebrows, but doesn’t question anything.
“Thanks for shopping at Thrift- jeez. Nevermind!” the kid says as the siblings leave in a hurry, already having wasted a day.
On ao3:
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dreamcrow · 1 year
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'it was hard to put on a beanie with antlers, she discovered' 👀
(for this fic game; thank you for the ask!)
Years pass. Fashions change. Nothing strange, in this.
97 words, on ao3
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endofthelinexx · 2 years
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Finishing that new chapter has really reignited my love for writing, I’m halfway through chapter 9, so expect it by monday. I also plan on working on the next chapter of eternal spring, so expect that between Wednesday and Friday of next week!
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rory-cakes · 2 months
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Alastor's Birdy
Alastor wasn’t a good man. 
In fact, he was no longer a man at all. 
He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel. 
The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask. 
Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist. 
Well, not until Mimzy comes along.
“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”
Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion. 
“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”
A glint of gold catches the light.
“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”
Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room. 
“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”
Who are they talking about?
“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”
Finally, someone asks. 
“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”
“His missus, of course!”
His what?
“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.
“I am married; we never divorced.”
Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people? 
Wait-
“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!” 
Mimzy pipes up,
“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!” 
That she did…
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man. 
“They make me feel happy
They make me blue
No stallin', I'm fallin'
Going in a great big way for sweet little you”
It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her. 
“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with
Them there eyes
You'd better watch them if you're wise
They sparkle, they bubble
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble
You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in
Them there eyes”
Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together. 
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes” 
HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.
The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.
A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan
part 2
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feyascorner · 5 months
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until I come back alive
summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.
warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏
“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”
Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.
“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.
“The what?”
“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.
He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.
“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”
She appears puzzled. “Why not?”
He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”
“You love each other, don’t you?”
At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”
A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.
Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.
And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.
Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”
“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”
“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”
He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.
“Did you call me?”
Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.
“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”
“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”
“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”
He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”
You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.
Easy, he thinks. Too easy.
He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”
“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”
You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”
“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”
“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”
He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”
He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”
There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”
He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.
Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.
“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”
You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”
His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.
The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.
He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”
A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.
He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.
He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”
“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—
“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.
He stops.
Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.
“Astarion?”
He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“But you didn’t even feed?”
“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.
He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.
Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.
And he hates it more than he expected.
——
By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.
He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.
He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.
The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.
There are no third pair of footsteps at all.
Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.
He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.
You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.
His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.
“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.
“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”
Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.
“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”
He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.
“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”
In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.
All he cared about was your life.
Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.
You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.
“Quite the nap, darling.”
You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”
“You nearly died.”
“…how?”
“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”
You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”
“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”
“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”
He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”
Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“
He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.
You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”
“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”
You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”
“For getting poisoned?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”
His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.
You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“
He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”
He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”
You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”
Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”
He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”
As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.
You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.
“I love you.”
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studioghibelli · 28 days
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the old man and the sea- a joel miller x reader fic
summary: grief is a sacred thing, a nasty thing, a sensual thing. it grips you from the inside until there's nothing left but a void of darkness- a void that can never be filled. joel miller knows this fact very well, and all he wants to do is save you.
warnings: girthed up age gap (college age!reader x 50’s age joel), i’m exploring a new type of writing ok let me COOK!!!! idk i am delusional, reader has hair that at least reaches her neck, cigarette use, this whole thing is basically an allegory for grief and growing but there also a lot of sexy smut soooo yeah. (mentions of death and two brief mentions of suicide, but nothing too detailed.) that being said, smut (f receiving oral sex, soft kissy missionary sex, unprotected piv sex, some 'dirty' talk, etc.)
note: this has NOT been proofread or edited. any mistakes are mine. i just hate going back and editing lmao. enjoy! xx
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In the august days of your youth, when the rocky line of the coast line glimmered beneath the flame of the sun, when the foamy waves would pool by your sandy feet, you could remember the towering lighthouse just south of the beach, the way it stood tall and proud, like the statues of Roman soldiers you knew from your school encyclopedias. It was vibrant and alive, no more dead than the clams bubbling beneath the surface of the ocean, no more dead than the bellowing of the whales far off the shore.
You remember how it would speak to you, late at night when you would walk alone, hoping to catch the light reflecting off the tail of a pretty mermaid, hoping that the local legends of talking fish would come poke their heads above the water, speaking to you in riddles from days gone by.
You remember the words of the light which shone strong from above, circling above your head , like the passing lights of a traveling carnival, your eyes caught like a moth roaming towards the flames, lost in the eternal beauty of its golden light.
Come to me, child. Let the lighthouse unburden your pain.
But back then, when you were quick to scare despite your steadfast stubbornness, you never garnered enough courage to explore behind its walls.
Now college had passed, and you moved back home to your parent's rickety beach house, alone behind her comforting wooden exterior. This home. This home that was once so full of life. This home that held warm laughter and late night board games. This home that housed your closest friends and their secrets of crushes and undeciphered dreams. This home where you grew into a young woman full of life and beauty, clever and brilliant.
This home that was now empty.
You had got the call the week after finals.
We're so sorry, they went out fishing and a storm came. We never found them.
Oh, yes.
Adventure pumped through your veins, the taste for freedom like salty water on your tongue. You knew where you got it from, you always had. Your sweet family, your loving parents. Full of life like that lighthouse, full of of love like the sun.
Now they were nothing, and this house was nothing. Those years of laughter and secrets and adventure were nothing.
Nothing.
Your favorite word these days.
Going through belongings and shuffling through old books had taken almost a weeks worth of tears. Hot, tepid, angry tears.
How dare they leave you alone? How dare they forsake you like this?
The thought of crashing water and striking lightning was almost too much to bare.
When the storm had rolled in that morning, you had been tucked away in the alcove of your kitchen, nursing a steaming mug that was more cream than coffee. You watched the droplets of rain paint pictures on the window, you watched nature wring her tears across the fluttering branches of trees, cracking soft splashes across the pavement with each gust of air. Your chest felt heavy with thoughts of them.
Mom and dad.
Mamma and papa.
Perhaps it was in hopes you would feel some comfort, perhaps it was in hopes you would feel whole. If you could just stare out at the ocean that took them, maybe they would speak to you. Maybe those fairytale fish would poke their heads up from the water and exclaim to you how happy your parents were, how they were fitting right in, how they had invited Mrs. Dolphin over for tea last Saturday, and how they were finally warming up to the funny shark that always lurked in the seaweed.
You stood barefoot on the cragged rock, staring out at the roaring waves, with nothing but the lull of distant seagulls and the song of incoming thunder.
No fish. No parents. No Mrs. Dolphin. Just another season of storms and a crater in your heart.
Your throat was raw from all the screaming. You danced to your fight song as you let the rain take you, your clothes felt like skin from how soaked through they were. Heavy drapes of fabric that cemented you in place on that cragged rock. That cragged rock that dripped with the blood of your raw heels, your toes scraped and ruined from the sandy surface.
It was dark by the time the storm rolled out, dark by the time your back found the safety of the sand, dark by the time your hair clung to your neck and became tangled up with the seashells.
There was a glowing orb of light far off in the distance that you could just make out through the hazy fog of your eyelashes, and you realized it was growing closer, the old handle of a lantern creaking through the night.
"Hello?" The voice was rough and unknown to your ears, yet held a certain warmth despite the weariness.
"Yes?" You asked softly, refusing to open your eyes. If you opened your eyes, all of this was real, all of this was raw, all of this was right there.
"Are you.... okay?"
"Yes."
The lantern creaked once more, and you heard the shuffle of fabric as the man leaned forward, pressing his knuckles to your cheek. "You're colder than a reindeer's antlers, girl." His touch was warm, his hand a welcome solace from the rain. "You live around here?"
You didn't want to go back to that house. You didn't want to smell their detergent or see their old clothes. You didn't want to waltz through that kitchen or hear the creak of those old stairs.
Perhaps it was from the way your lip quivered, from the rain or from the cold, perhaps it was from the defeat in your voice, or the weightlessness of your soul, but the man before you knew he had to do something about it. How could he not? You were laying there like a pile of unfolded laundry, and no one else was around to fold it all.
You felt an arm slip behind your back.
"C'mon, stand up with me. On three."
You groaned softly, using a thick arm as leverage as the mystery man helped you stand off the ground. When you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of umber orbs staring at you, tracing over your face, every line, scar, freckle, dent, he was soaking you in like a sponge, as though he wanted to know your face just from memory.
"I'm Joel."
Joel.
He was handsome, that was the first thing you noticed about him. You felt your stomach churn at the feeling, angry you could find him so beautiful, despite the darkness which shrouded over you. Joel was broad and rugged, no doubt rough around the edges. He was adorned with various scars and random freckles, with thick eyebrows and broad shoulders, plush lips and kind eyes- hardened by time, no doubt, but beautiful all the same.
You know you mumbled your name out somewhere along the walk, eyes cloudy with tears. It was a miracle you managed to speak anything at all.
As you neared the lighthouse, you realized just how foreboding it truly was. Its paint was cracking, yet its foundation remained firm, and it towered up into the clouds like a Medieval castle. Behind it's white structure you saw a small cabin, warm light seeping through the misty windows, painting the green grass with splatters of sunshine.
When Joel opened the door, an old dog sitting in front of the fireplace lifted his head, the soft thump of a tail beating against the wooden floors. His fur was gray and his eyes were old, his long fur a mixture of brown, black, and white patches. Like a makeshift quilt.
Quilts. Your mother used to make those.
"That's Moby." Joel explained, setting a kettle on the old gas stove. "Sit down. You're trailing blood." You felt embarrassment creep up your neck, and he must have noticed the way your eyes darted with shame. "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Let me fix up your cuts. I-.... I wasn't trying to be a dick." He spoke like this was his first time having human interaction in a decade, and by the way he moved, you might have been right.
He fumbled through drawers and cabinets, eventually finding a metal first aid kit that had begun resting at the edges years ago. Joel pulled up a dining room chair in front of you with a loud screech, peering up at you as he shuffled through the remnants of the kit.
"What were you doing out there?" He asked, gently grabbing your ankle. He guided it to his lap, inspecting the raw flesh of your soles.
"Exploring."
"Exploring what?"
"Myself."
You felt his shoulders jerk with a bit of a laugh. Normally, you would not have gone home with a stranger. Normally, you would not have let a random man place your legs on his lap or nurse you up.
But then again, nothing was normal anymore. Normal was home. Normal was family. Normal was homecooked meals and late night board games and sleepovers and secrets and.... well, none of this.
The hot stream of tears threatened the dam that rest just above your waterline. Joel noticed, but he didn't say anything.
His calloused thumb rested on the side of your foot, the sting of alcohol soaked pads causing you to wince.
"I know." He muttered through an unlit cigarette which dangled from his mouth, the lines of his forehead prominent with each movement he made. "There we go. Right one's done. Let me see the left."
You obeyed wordlessly, gently propping it up onto his thigh. He repeated his previous work until that foot was cleaned and patched.
Joel stared at you. The tea kettle behind him was whistling for attention, its top sputtering from the roaring boil of water.
"Earl gray or green?" He asked as he rummaged for two cups, blowing the dust off of one. You watched Joel stare at one of the cups for a beat too long.
"Earl gray." You croaked, blinking hard. You felt wetness by your hand. When you looked down, the black nose of a dog was pressing into your palm. Your fingers found his fur, rubbing that spot right behind his ear that made his back leg go crazy. Who couldn't smile at that?
Moby laid down, his fur a puddle at the base of your chair as he rested his snout atop your foot. You stared at him, welcoming the softness of his body against yours.
"Moby is a sweet dog. He's old. Rarely gets up from that bed." Joel explained, handing you a cup. The words World's Best Dad were fading at the sides. This cup must have been older than you.
"I like him." You let the liquid glide down your throat with each sip, savoring the warmth it provided you. At the first sign of a shiver, Joel had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.
"Why are you being so kind to me? You don't even know me."
Joel sat back down across from you with a soft groan, the ache in his bones creaking like an old, rusting elevator shaft. "I do know you."
"Have we met before?" Your eyebrow raised with interest, and you looked at him wearily, trying to deduce what he was up to.
"No. But I know what grieving looks like." There was a long pause before Joel decided to speak again. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"What? No!" You guffawed, neck snapping up to shoot him a scowl. "Of course not."
"Look. If you walked up on a half dead, soaking wet person on the shore, during the aftermath of a storm, you'd be thinking the same thing." He defended himself sternly, setting his cup down.
There was a thick moment of quietness.
"Those were your parents, weren't they?" His voice was barely a whisper. It floated through the air like smoke off a candle, hitting you in the face.
"Yes."
"It was all over the news. Loads of us went out there, tried to find them."
"They're out there somewhere. Fish food." Your voice was bitter.
Joel didn't say anything. He just sat and stared. You stared back.
It became a ritual after that night. You were over there every evening, usually with a paper bag full of groceries and treats for Moby. You taught Joel how to make Paprikash and Japchae, you taught Moby how to fist bump with his nose (old dogs can learn new tricks), and you taught yourself how to laugh again.
Laughing. Such an odd thing to do in the aftermath of grief. Such a weird feeling to allow ones self to feel after weeks of chaos.
And Joel, he had his uses too.
Joel taught you how to do a fishtail braid, he taught you how to use a fly rod, and what the inside of a lighthouse looks like. Joel taught you how to smile again, he taught you what the feeling of freedom felt like once more.
Summer faded into autumn, and the orange and yellow trees began to paint the prettiest of pictures on the canvas of the coast. It held a certain nostalgia that summer had always failed to do for you, and the promise of apple cider and pumpkin scented candles floated through with every passing day.
It had taken some convincing, but Joel had swayed in to your demands, and you both sat at a tiny table in a tiny cafe, the steaming pumpkin latte swirling between his hands.
"So?"
He stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It's.... not half bad."
"Well, well, well. Looks like I was right. I knew you'd like it." You smiled through your victory, drinking your own iced coffee.
"I haven't been here in years." Joel explained, looking around at the decorations. Local art, framed photographs, and signed albums adorned the exposed brick walls, the glowing salt lamps on each table bathing the air with warm, orange light.
"You've been here before?" This coffee shop was old, you knew that much, but even when you were younger and frequented its counter with your high school friends, you can't remember ever seeing him here. And this was a small town- you knew you would have remembered his face, despite the wrinkles and grays. He still would have been Joel.
"Over two decades ago. Sarah loved this place."
"Sarah?"
His upper lip twitched at the sound of her name. Joel looked at you with heavy eyes, glossed over with the mark of grief. The kind of grief that settles in to your body as though it's its home, the kind of grief that sits beside you on the couch and never leaves. The kind of grief you were learning to grow beside.
"My daughter."
The air hung above your heads like a rainy cloud, thick and desultory. It fell across your shoulders like a fur coat, and you struggled to shake it all away.
"I didn't know that you..." Words were useless. They always were when it came to matters like this.
Joel drank his coffee in silence, tracing the ridges of the wooden table out with his eyes. "Don't like talking about her."
"We don't have to."
"Yes, we do." His voice was stern as he looked up at you, your gaze connecting. Joel's eyes were far away, searching for something in the recesses of his memory, or perhaps gaining the courage to speak to you.
"I've been alone for over twenty years." His voice was softer than you had ever remembered it being. "And then.... you were there. Just there. Laid out on the shore like a beached mermaid, shivering in the moonlight. I didn't know you... but I knew you. You were me in that moment. I had been you."
Your lips were pressed into a tight, thin line, and you watched as he spoke. There was a subtle shake to Joel's hands as he picked at his thumb nail, a tick you had picked up on the first week you had known him. The bouncing of his knee vibrated through the table.
"I know what grief is. I know the stain it leaves on someone's face. It was all over you.. just-just dripping."
You hadn't noticed the tears welling in your eyes.
Joel reached over, his palm engulfing your cold hand like a blanket, warming your skin up with his touch. He laced your fingers tight in to his own, cradling your palms close between his two hands.
"I know what all this does to a person. How it rots, how.... how it erodes. I knew I needed to help you."
"What's why you took me back to your house."
"Yes. That's why I bandaged you up, that why I made you tea, that's why I let you keep coming back. Because I wanted to help you, because I lov-"
"Are we doing okay over here?" A barista walked up with a smile, a tray in hand. "I'm just going to take these empty cups away! It's such a beautiful day outside."
You managed to shoot her a smile.
As she walked away, Joel continued staring at you, and there was a sense of something..... else in his eyes.
"Lets go back home? To- well, uh, to my home."
You nodded silently, letting go of his hands as you both walked out the door.
There was something unspoken between Joel and you, and it had settled between the two of you over the months. You knew that he knew, and Joel knew that you knew, yet it was never brought up, it was never allowed to spoken out loud. If it was spoken out loud, then it became real, and if it became real, then it would end up being a burden. Or a promise. Or a nightmare. Or a dream. Or a beautiful, welcoming, loving thing that lasted until the day you died.
How terrifying was that?
You don't know when you had started holding Joel's hand, but the walk back to the lighthouse was quiet and chilly.
Because I lo-
His words echoed through your skull with every single step you took along the cobbled path.
Lo, lo, lo, lo. Love? Loathe? Long? Look?
Your chest compressed against itself as your thoughts wandered. You must have been squeezing Joel's hand too hard, or your nails must have been digging into his skin too deeply, because he stopped and looked at you.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.
"I- um. Huh?"
"You're practically making me bleed with those nails of yours. Are you okay? Thinking about something?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." You muttered sheepishly, gently recoiling your hand away. Joel stopped you, placing it back in the grasp of his own. "I just... what were you going to say to me?"
"Hmm? Say to you?"
"Back at the coffee shop?"
"Oh." Joel shuffled his weight between both of his feet, his eyes shifting to meet yours. His warm, gentle, dark eyes. Those honeyed orbs of warmth that you had grown to love so deeply. Love? Oh, yes. You were certain it was love.
What part of Joel Miller didn't you love? He had rescued you from much more than that shore on that fateful night. Fate. Hell of a thing, that.
Joel squeezed his eyes shut. It was like ripping off a band-aid. When he spoke, he opened them once more, allowing his words to drip off his tongue. They were soft, gentle, they swayed through the tresses of your hair like a breeze through a field of flowers.
"I love you."
And there it was.
Time must have stopped. Your ears rang with silence, the weight of the universe funneling and funneling, closer and closer to your head until there was nothing. No noise. No air. No nothing.
Joel stared at you with a blank expression on his face, as though he couldn't believe what he had just said.
"I shouldn't have... that was- I'm sorry."
You took a step towards him, his hand was still wrapped around your own. You felt the subtle sheen of sweat on his palm, you tasted the tang of metal on your tongue from biting your cheek too hard, too deep, too long.
You knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east, you knew it with every vein in your body, with every hair on your head. You loved him, too.
Oh you did, didn't you? What a fool you were for him. If he told you to jump, you would jump. If he told you to run away with him, you would ask where. Joel Miller had bewitched you, every ounce of you, and you couldn't bare the thought of leaving him, or forgetting him, or even worse- never meeting him.
Some brave rush of courage overtook you, and before you could think you had grabbed his face in your hands and pressed your mouth into his own, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of your movement. Joel's hands instinctively grabbed your waist, and his back found the support of a stop sign. The tips of his fingers gently dug into your waist, and he held you close and tight to his chest. You could feel the beating of his heart against his torso, pumping and pumping and pumping its vibrations into your own chest, ricocheting through your body as you tasted him on your tongue.
You pulled away only when your cheeks ached, burying your face in to his chest, allowing the smell of Joel to overcome you. He always smelled like the sea air and cotton, sweet and nostalgic against your nose.
"Lets get home." He whispered in your ear.
Home. He hadn't corrected himself. Home.
Joel's fingers refused to leave yours, locked tight as you made it to his house. Moby greeted you with a kiss to the knee, waddling back to his bed with a heavy huff of air. You gave him the bone you always picked up for him on the way there, before turning around to see Joel in the kitchen, a cigarette in his mouth.
"Want one?" He asked as he brought the lighter to his mouth. You walked towards him, nodding. He took the item out of his mouth, before placing it between your own two lips.
Joel watched the way you took the cigarette, the way your glossy lips looked against the white sheen of paper.
"You're so damn beautiful. God, I just..." Joel shook his head as he kept his thoughts to himself, lighting another smoke before tossing the half empty pack on to the table.
"You just what?" Your voice echoed through the bellow of smoke, and you leaned against the counter, challenging him with your words.
"I just... got so many things I want to do to you."
You smiled, alluring eyes beaming up at him as you puffed and exhaled, slowly putting out the embers on the clay ashtray you had bought him months ago. "Like what?" Your words were teasing.
Joel watched you step towards him, and his chest rose and fell underneath the unlit kitchen light. He took in a deep breath of tobacco before flicking it in to the metal sink.
He'd deal with that later.
"How 'bout I just show you, baby?"
Your lip caught between your teeth as you nodded.
Joel had never moved so fast in his life, whisking you off to his room with a loud bang of his door. He had you nearly naked and on his bed in record time, his knee resting between your legs as he kissed you, the hair of his moustache tickling your nose.
He allowed you to grind yourself down on his leg, soft moans flooding in to his mouth as his tongue explored your own, tangling and dancing with one another as his fingers worked the back of your bra. Joel threw the material across the room, your breasts pressing in to his chest, nipples hard and tantalizing.
That was the first time Joel had pulled away. He left a trail of wet kisses down to your nipples, his lips wrapping around the stiff bud. You watched him suckle at your flesh, shivers causing the hair on your arms to stand up. His curls became tangled with your fingers, a leg resting on his shoulder as he adjusted himself, sucking and licking at your tits as though he were starved.
Your sweet melody of arousal was like music to Joel, who finally gathered the strength to pull away from your chest and move down between your legs, his mouth planting a flurry of pecks to your stomach. He hooked your panties in his fingers and tugged them off, large hands resting on your thigh as he spread them.
Joel stared at your pussy, now open and bare for his eyes. It glistened with arousal, the soft pink of your flesh causing his mouth to water.
"Jesus." He breathed out slowly, eyes darting up to your gaze. "You were made just for me, weren't you?"
You felt your cheeks heat up. You were. Oh, God, you were!
His free hand snaked up to yours, and you held it tightly, nervously. His hand was your anchor, tethering you to the ocean floor of his bedroom.
Joel leaned forward, his tongue pressing flat against your clit. You whimpered out once. He sucked it in between his lips. You whimpered out twice. He worked your aching bud until you were singing a song composed just for him, pants of hot, heavy air swirling through the four walls of his room.
He was devouring you. You were his Eucharist and your pussy was his prayer. Joel worked you in ways you had never been worked before, licking and sucking your pussy with the fervor that could only ever be found in a religion. You were his religion. His idol. His worship. His solace.
Oh, solace. What a sweet, sweet thing when it was found in you.
Joel's chin was quickly soaked in your sweet wetness. He would have drowned in you if you had let him.
His tongue pushed deep in to your folds, exploring your most precious pf places, tasting every inch of you like a starved man, like a frenzied man, like a mad man.
You were his. He was yours.
Your hips were bucking, your body like a wild animal caught in a trap. Except you weren't in a trap. You were in his arms. His strong, thick, heavy arms, and ecstasy was overtaking you. His tongue was coaxing you towards an explosive orgasm, the likes of which had never been known to you. Not one so intense. Not one at the hands of a man who loved you.
Joel's grip tightened around your own, his lips sucking at your clit, tongue tapping and swirling, licking and lapping.
You could barely get any warning out before your orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking with earthquakes of pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, holding his head tight in place. Joel licked you through the height of your euphoria, sucking softly at your bud before you could barely take it anymore, before you had to gently push his head away.
"Joel." You whispered, staring at the ceiling as the white hot heat of your climax rushed over you. "Joel." You spoke it like a mantra. His name was a promise to you.
"Baby?" He climbed over you, weight supported by his elbows, and allowed the tip of his nose to gently brush over yours.
"Take me." You whispered, the palms of your hand moving to his cheeks. They were warm, and you could smell your pussy on his facial hair. You leaned forwards, kissing him, tasting your cum and his spit. A moan tumbled out of your mouth, straight through your teeth.
"Make me yours. Fuck me." You begged, although Joel didn't need any begging.
"Anything for you."
His boxers were off in the blink of an eye, and you glanced down at his cock. Tanned, slightly curved, hanging low and heavy, the mushroom tip gleaming with pre-cum. Your mouth was watering at the site, but his grasp on your chin moved your line of sight to his face.
Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and a soft gasp escaped you at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. He grinded against you, his shaft rubbing up and down the folds of your pussy, jolts of electricity causing you to shiver each time he brushed your clit.
Joel was teasing you. He was making you in to a mess. A mess all for him.
His eyes never left yours. Joel watched you lovingly, noses pressed tight, lips brushing past the others. You were as close as two people could possibly be, and you were unsure where his skin ended and yours began. Stray curls of his hair tickled your forehead, and your chests rose and fell in unison.
"I love you." His breath was hot against your face.
"I love you too-" He pushed his length in as you spoke, stretching out the lips of your pussy, hitting deeper than anything had before. You moaned out a wanton noise you had never heard before, nails gently digging in to his shoulders.
Joel sat there for a moment, heavy eyelids half closed. He was soaking you in, literally, allowing himself to relish in the feeling of being inside of you. Of being one with you.
He had not afforded himself many of life's pleasures. Not after Sarah had died. Not after he had let himself go. He had paced the same shore as you many moons ago, gun in hand, trying to urge himself to just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It sounded so easy.
But something had stopped him. Something hadn't let him.
He had wondered, many years after that, why he hadn't done it. He had wondered what could possibly be worth living.
And then he saw you.
In that very same spot, rotting beneath the silver light of the moon.
It was you. Everything had been for you, hadn't it?
And now there you were, beneath him, as pretty as a picture, the embodiment of everything he had ever yearned for, everything he had ever dreamed for. You were everything to Joel, and he was everything to you.
And now there he was, deep inside of you. You were all he could feel, all he could smell, all he could see. You, you, you. The most beautiful thing he had ever saw, the most wonderful thing he could have ever waited for.
The shiver of your body brought him back down to reality. He kissed you deeply, and all you could do was smile against his mouth.
Lucky. That is what you were. That is what you both were.
"You feel so good." You whispered softly, hands gently running down the back of his head, finding a resting spot on the broad stretch of his freckled back.
Joel rubbed his cheek against yours, slowly moving his hips, grinding down against you, eliciting a sweet moan out of you. "Yeah?"
You both giggled in unison, and he watched your eyes shut as he began to pump deep inside of you. The feeling of your nails pinched at his skin.
Joel glanced down, watching his cock disappear into the depths of your cunt, sloppy noises of your arousal filling the air. Your pussy lips looked so pretty wrapped around his length, your wetness looked so pretty glistening off his cock.
You were made for him, and he for you.
"Take me, Joel." You begged, and his movement increased, growing slightly rougher as his forehead met yours, lips pressing together once more.
"God, you're so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty. You feel so fucking good. This pussy.... fuck. Fuck, I never want to leave it." He was rambling through his thrusts, hand reaching down to rub at your swelling clit.
"Fuck me, Joel. Fuck me." You whined out, bucking up against the touch of his fingers as he fucked you harder in to the mattress.
"You're my girl. You're my beautiful fucking girl. God, you're everything to me. You're my world." His breath was hot against your face as he kissed you, coaxing you towards another orgasm with each rub of his middle finger across your clit.
"That's a good girl. I can feel you getting closer. I can feel that pussy tightening against me."
Your back arched off the mattress as you cried out his name, moaning as his praises filled your ears. Joel rested his face in the crook of your neck, hips slapping in to your thighs as he filled you up with every inch of his length.
"That's my girl, that's it, baby. Cum for me."
You did as he said. There was no use in holding back. As your orgasm rushed through, his own was approaching. Your name tumbled off his lips, the only word he could remember, as he came deep inside your walls. His hot cum filled you to the brim with a warmth you had never experienced, and Joel kept slowly pumping as his high rushed off, as his orgasm died down.
You shivered beneath him, another kiss being planted on your mouth. Then you cheeks. Then your nose. Then anywhere else Joel could get to.
A moan tumbled off Joel's tongue as he slowly slipped out of you, falling beside you before grabbing you and pressing you in to his chest.
"Stay with me."
"I always do." You whispered in to his chest.
"No, stay with me. Permanently. This can be our home."
"Our home." You whispered quietly, nuzzling closer into his body.
"Our home." He established firmly, resting his palm on the crown of your head.
The world would always spin, and sorrow would always lurk. That was how the world worked. That was the way of the universe. When you both awoke in the morning, the pain of yesteryears would still be there. The horrible, nasty tug of old memories and distant lives would always be somewhere deep within you.
The cosmos, however, were full of possibilities. You could have stayed in your parents home and succumb to a darkness greater than yourself. Joel could have drank himself to death or tasted the metal of a bullet. Those waves could have taken you, and he could have never decided to take a walk down to that beach.
There were many what if's.
But right now you were alive with passion, eyes wide and awake with a newfound love. The bitterness had gone, and something much brighter and better was waiting for you in the future.
Beside you, Joel Miller sat puffing on a cigarette, smiling at you through dreamy eyes. The sheen of sweat was still glistening across his chest, and the gentle smirk on his lips reflected the tales of a lovesick fool.
"Ready to go again?" He asked cheekily, handing you the smoke.
You took it with a smile.
For now, grief would have to wait.
933 notes · View notes
nothingbynova · 2 months
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forever with him, luke castellan fanfic
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summary: friends to lovers, sunshine and grumpy, apollo cabin main character <3
pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
word count: 2.5k
warning(s) : lots of plot, some cringey fluff, cute kissing moments & use of y/n
dedications: my bestfriend honeymoomin. i hope you enjoy reading, i love you minnie !!
✩ ‧₊˚ author's note: hii first time poster here but i’m so in love with luke fics so i wrote my own :)
⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆
everyone at camp half blood knows that the apollo kids are an embodiment of sunshine and happiness. no matter what happens, they always find a reason to make those around them smile and laugh. people gravitate towards the positive energy that being an apollo kid has, and you are no different. even the angsty and moody kids seem to enjoy your presence. luke castellan is the most popular example of this.
the horn echoes in the distance as you wake up, kids slowly pile out of your cabin and walk down to the dining pavilion. mixed foods are spread out for everyone to grab and enjoy. you grab a few small items, fruit, yogurt and an apple juice before heading toward your respective table. 
all cabins have their own tables, and all cabin mates must eat with their siblings. every meal, everyday, forever until they grow up and leave. luke castellan does not follow this rule. 
his brown curls are messy and falling into his eyes, it’s obvious he didn’t sleep much the night before. he walks to grab a plate of mixed fruits and walks towards your table. chiron tried to take away dessert privileges the first few times it happened but luke didn’t care, he still wanted to sit with you. eventually it was a habit for both cabins, luke ate every meal with you instead.
“rough night?” you ask, smiling as he slips onto the bench seat beside you.
“yeah, the twins wouldn’t shut up..” he trails off, slowly piling his plate of breakfast down into his mouth. luke was the head counselor for hermes cabin, which means he didn’t get to sleep until everyone else was taken care of. 
“wanna come to mine and help me study?” you chirp up and turn to look at him, his focus is fixed on the table in front of you both. the ares kids are fighting over who has to scrub toilets after losing the capture of the flag. clarisse la rue, their head counselor is repetitively smacking one of the trouble boys on the head until he stops yelling.
“uhh maybe later? i have training duty today for the new group that showed up last week” luke replied without even turning to look at you. he continued eating his fruit and even continued onto eating some of yours as well. 
“oh it’s okay, i can just study with someone else today” you smiled at him and brushed off how different the rejection felt today. 
“okay, come find me before dinner?” luke asked as he stood up from the bench and grabbed his remaining fruit left on the plate. 
“of course!” you cheerly replied and turned to look up at luke as he hovered over you. he quickly wrapped an arm around your chest and hugged you from behind, kissing your temple before walking off toward the fire pit. every demi-god child has to offer food scraps to their parent, as a form of admiration and love. therefore, the fire pit burns every minute of every day, basically for the rest of eternity as long as camp half-blood stands alive.
and let's just say the flames weren’t the only thing burning bright red anymore.
⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆
you decided to study with annabeth in the athena cabin since luke ditched you for counselor duties. nobody can compete with the smarts of an athena kid, but you were pretty damn close. 
annabeth was incredibly talented in basically everything, but she liked to study architecture specifically. she could ramble about the history and purpose of buildings for days. you on the other hand preferred the easier topics, like high school english and ancient greek history. 
“are you going to tell me what happened at breakfast this morning or not?” annabeth dropped her pencil down and looked straight at you. the burn of her stare was starting to become undeniable to acknowledge. 
“what are you talking about?” you sigh and glance up at her, before returning back to the textbook sitting in front of you. 
“are you seriously this clueless? luke kissed you this morning in front of everyone. you have no feelings about that?” her dead serious look made you feel slightly disoriented. you wait for a few seconds before replying back to her.
“he kissed my forehead, beth. it's not like we made out in front of the entire camp. and why exactly does this matter anyway?” you glare at her confused, squinting your eyes slightly and tilting your head in a questioned manner.
“you really are clueless, aren't you?” she took a deep breath and collected her belongings. “luke has had a crush on you for years, y/n” annabeth beams at you and then your wrist. a thin beaded best friend bracelet sat by itself. luke had made it for you after you arrived at camp, that being almost 6 years ago. he wore his matching one everyday, refusing to take it off even in combat.
“i’ll see you at dinner!” she gives you a quick side hug and then leaves you alone in the cabin to gather your thoughts and feelings. 
and staying with your feelings is exactly what you did. the rest of the day you couldn’t focus on anything but the conversation with annabeth. did luke actually like you back? and if so, how did she know before you did? everything was becoming so complicated and confusing now.
clarisse stopped you on your way toward the training fields, she wanted your help fixing up and decorating a chariot for the camp’s racing event tomorrow. you, being an apollo kid, couldn't possibly deny her request. the two of you worked together for a couple hours, mixing scraps and parts into useful weapons. after she saw how distracted you were when you began painting small hearts along the doors sides, she took a pause. normally this could have passed without question for the aphrodite cabin, but ares? absolutely not. 
“alright, who has you in a love spell y/n? i appreciate the help you know, but drawing hearts on my chariot won't go well with me or any of my siblings.” she questioned you, removing the small hand held paint brush from your grasp. 
“hmm? sorry i’ve got alot on my mind” you quickly replied, giving a sympathetic smile as blush crept onto your cheeks. clarisse looked at you for a moment, sighed, and then walked back toward her side of the cart. she threw the brush back into the pile of others before continuing whatever progress she has at making some wheels spin faster.
“the horn will sound for dinner here soon, you can leave now. thank you for the help” she yelped from beyond the chariot, smacking around parts of steel.
you close your eyes for a moment and deeply exhale. like clockwork the loud conch shell announced that it was time for all demi-god children to meet in the dining pavilion. a sudden wave of worry had overcome your mind and body. 
luke always sits with you and the rest of the apollo cabin. there was no possible way to ignore his actions, or ask him to sit with his own cabin mates. making the friendship awkward wasnt what you wanted to do. this was undeniably going to happen right now, you just needed to act calm and chill like always!
⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆
you slowly make your way out of the forest with clouded thoughts and a funny feeling in your stomach. you meet with annabeth again as you walk past the athena cabin doors. 
“hi y/n, have you seen luke yet?” she smirks at you and wiggles her eyebrows. you stop in your tracks and turn to dead pan her. 
“please tell me you were joking earlier.” you say with a serious face, thinking there’s no possible way that THE luke castellan could ever possibly like you back. 
“wait do you not like him too? i only told you because me and percy were tired of the constant flirting and neither of you were making moves.” she stops beside you and looks at you with a confused face. her happy and fun aura has since fallen after your recent question.
“that’s the issue beth, i’ve been in love with him forever! i never in a million years thought that he could ever feel the same until now. he’s so nonchalant and only ever talks about hooking up with one of the ares kids. i didn’t think he would want someone completely opposite of his personality…” you continue to ramble on, but annabeth’s focus slowly leaves and shifts to something behind you. a pale tone overtook her face about halfway through your speech
“are you even listening to me anymore??? i'm sorry, forget it, i’ll see you at the campfire.” you begin to turn around only to be faced with none other than luke castellan himself. there’s an awkward moment of silence before he speaks up
“you’re in love with me?” he questions, a slight blush is noticeable all over his face. his hands are tucked away into his pockets nervously.
“no no it’s not like- well yes but i can explain, can we talk? alone maybe?” you try to reason with him while hinting toward annabeth to give the two of you some privacy. she kindly understands and smiles at you before walking away and down toward the pavilion. 
“we can talk on the way to my cabin, most of the kids are already sitting down for dinner so it should be empty this time around.” he offers you a smile and extends his hand towards you. without skipping a beat you lace your fingers into his and prepare to walk toward the hermes structure. the silence between you is oddly peaceful, luke’s always been really good at making people feel safe even in the most uncomfortable situations. his hands are warm and soft, his thumb is gently rubbing along your fingers as he guides the way. 
“i assume annabeth told you” he glances down at you and then back up toward the graveled path. his grip on your hand is strong, almost as if he would die if he let go.
“uh yeah, she did..” your throat is suddenly very dry and you begin to feel that funny feeling in your stomach again. 
“i can almost feel the nerves radiating off you, take a breath y/n.” he chuckles as he pulls you toward the hermes cabin doors. gently releasing your hand to open it and gesture for you to enter first. you awkwardly walk inside and head toward the corner where his bed sits. you take a seat on the edge of his bed and glance around as if it's your first time in here. even though you’ve been friends with luke for half a decade, the new found feelings are making you feel like it's your first time hanging out together. he closes the door and walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. his thighs are practically touching you, his hand brushes against yours everytime he tries to move. the tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a butterknife. 
“so do you wanna explain what i overheard you telling annabeth..?” he offers you the chance to talk first, but he doesn't look away from your guys feet on the floor in front of you.
“how much exactly did you hear?” you question him, turning to look him in the eyes. 
“would you be alarmed if i said everything?” he peels his eyes off the floor and glances down at you. his lips are pursed into a small smirk and there's a red tint that lies on his cheeks.
“oh great” you awkwardly laugh and place your head into your heads. luke carefully wraps his hands around yours, pulling them away from your face. he makes sure not to let go of them, as he places both of your guys hands into his lap.
“i like you, y/n. i’ve always liked you, i was just waiting for you to realize it…” his eyes are soft when you look into them. you can see as his eyes dart between your own and down to your lips. the room is suddenly hot, and you feel a gravitational pull toward luke. he must feel it too because within seconds both of you are leaning in. one of his hands comes up to hold your jaw. he’s pulling you into him, and quickly you are inches away from his face. there's a quick pause in his movement before he speaks up. “are you sure you wanna do this?” the gentle look in his gaze is the same he’s always given you. this whole time he was admiring you from afar, and you had no idea until this very moment.
a radiant smile overcomes your face, you nod your head and lean into him. luke’s other hand reaches up to hold the other side of your face. 
his lips finally meet yours, and the feeling can only be described as euphoric. you’ve dreamt of this happening for years and years, but nothing could compare to the real thing. his movements are gentle, guiding you through the moment. his lips are warm and welcoming. his hands move toward the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side and deepening the kiss. 
moments pass before you finally pull back, making an attempt at catching your breath. luke, refusing to let you go, happily places small kisses over your lips and cheeks. you throw your head backwards and giggle as luke wraps his arms around you. 
“i suppose this means you definitely like me too, right?” one of his hands is gently playing with the hair that frames your face, as the other is rubbing your back. “you’d be stupid to think otherwise, luke castellan.” you respond and smile, leaning into his soft touch. he takes this moment to kiss you once more before pulling you into his chest. the two of you sit there for a few moments, enjoying the moment. 
“we should probably go to dinner before chiron sends someone looking for us” he speaks and leans up. you follow his movements and nod your head slightly. luke stands to his feet and gives you his hand, pulling you to your own feet as well. he places one more kiss on your lips before guiding the both of you toward the cabin door. 
as usual he joins you and your siblings, the apollo cabin, for dinner. this night, he sits closer to you, holding your hand under the table and drawing small circles around your fingers. every now and again, you share a look and smile before returning to the conversion happening at the table. everything feels right, and you can't wait to spend forever with him.
⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ 🤍 ɞ˚‧。⋆
623 notes · View notes
strangersequel · 2 years
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ㅤㅤ 🔦🚲 ˖ ִ ˑ ETERNAL FLAME
Fearful by nature, Diana Henderson never imagined that one day he would embark on an adventure to defend her life, but she is forced to leave her zone of comfort when you end up getting lost in the Mirkwood during the search for Will Byers, entering a world completely scary and with dangers around every corner.
                                           ⚠️  This fanfiction is only
                                             available in Portuguese
                                                       on wattpad
* ✰. *.˚៹ 🔦🚲 : tag: @samwilsonns @stranger-things-ocs @stardustocs @starlit-ocs @allaboutocs @ocs-supporting-ocs @ocappreciationtag @ocappreciation @oc-challenges @queerocs @foxesandmagic @fyeahstrangerthingsocs @hiddenqveendom  
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captain-joongz · 4 months
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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023
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♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17
regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected
choi seungcheol
◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow
camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers
♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan
idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader
☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks
brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers
♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism
brother's best friend to lovers au
kim mingyu
☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji
virgin!mingyu x experienced reader
♤ creep by @smileysuh
serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic
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ot8
◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy
a/b/o, cnc, primal play
♧ sharing = caring by @cbini
bf!chan sharing you
☆ camcorder by @tasteracha
bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan
♤ five for five by @bh-archive
chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader
◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat
chan x felix x reader, threesome
lee minho
♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi
dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk
bang chan
☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs
step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity
hwang hyunjin
♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics
best friends to lovers, mutual pining
lee felix
◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz
best friends to lovers, fluffy smut
♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz
☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium
coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex
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ot7
♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx
supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au
◇ masked miracles by @remedyx
hybrid!bts, detective!reader
♧ stay alive by @staytinyville
mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au
☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades
hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes
♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane
dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au
◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces
hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader
♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz
hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers
♧ oh, little red by @jincherie
wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au
min yoongi
☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx
fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc
♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis
fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader
kim taehyung
◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink
step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con
♧ black swan by @aris-ink
step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating
☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd
alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex
jeon jungkook
♤ family secrets by @aris-ink
step brother!jungkook, dry humping
◇ icarus by @aris-ink
step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex
♧ close by @aft3rhrs
step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance
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choi soobin
☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris
soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play
♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar
soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin
◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu
shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader
♧ i &lt;3 nerds by @enha-cafe
nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au
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multiple members
☆ drippin' by @ncteez
'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy
♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy
step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au
♧ sos by @neopuppy
a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut
lee jeno
☆ shameless by @neopuppy
step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con
♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies
roommates au, hand kink
lee mark
◇ i can help by @recklessmark
step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity
ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2
769 notes · View notes
cozykali · 6 days
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Heartbeats (Astarion’s POV)
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I downloaded Baldur’s gate 3 and immediately feel for this sexy vampire the moment he tackled me to the ground and held a knife to my neck. I’m in act 2 right now (no spoilers!) and the brainrot is BAD. I’ve read some amazing period sex fics involving Astarion but I wanted to craft one from his perspective. Let me know your thoughts!
Master list can be found here!
Pairing: Astarion x fem Tav/reader
Rating: SMUT! NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI
Words: 4700
TW: (this fic is FLITHY), mentions of death and dying, biting (duh), drinking blood, period sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V, kissing, fingers, stalking, multiple Os, passing out, blood-loss, mentions of past torture/trauma, tension, begging, fluffy ending, ‘who did this to you?’,
Notes: Tav and Astarion have been travelling together for a few weeks. No romance scenes have happened yet, but she allows him to feed on her nearly every night. She hasn’t seen his scars yet. Tav is on her period and it’s making her vampire friend go crazy. Tav has feelings for Astarion but hasn’t acted upon them. This story is told from Astarion’s perspective. Tav can be any race or class you want (probably not durge though).
Bonus: Check out this massive playlist I made inspired by Astarion!
The fading fire crackled softly; its once licking flames now reduced to gentle, glowing embers. A thin line of smoke ascends into the damp air that coats the earth in a delicate layer of cool dew.
Astarion lies beside the fire on his bedroll, flat on his back, with his arms slightly splayed at his sides. Most nights, he is grateful that he doesn’t need sleep like his companions do. He can immerse himself in the peaceful sounds of the night, meditate, slow his breath, and calm his mind without slipping into unconsciousness. This ability had saved his life on more than one occasion.
However, tonight is different. Tonight, he wishes for sleep to claim him. He longs to drift away and escape the torment of the spell unknowingly cast upon him by Tav. He turns his head to gaze through the soft light of the fire in her direction.
Tav is laying on her side facing the fire, her mouth slightly open as she emits soft snores barely audible over the crackling flames. But what troubles Astarion tonight is her scent. It wafts through the acrid smoke of the fire like a gentle breeze through a sail, sweet as usual, but it’s currently mixed with blood and musk.
Astarion has been avoiding Tav for the better part of two days now. Whenever she drew near, he held his breath and averted his gaze. He knew he must keep his distance from her, because the alternative would be ripping her apart, which would not win any favors with the rest of the party.
Tav has also been careful around him. She must know that he can sense her menses. Despite inviting him to feed on her each night for nearly two weeks, tonight she did not proposition him, nor the night before. Last night, his attempt to catch a deer had been futile, leaving Tav as his last meal.
Lying on his bedroll, Astarion stares up at the stars, after a seemingly endless eternity for an immortal being, he hears Tav stir slightly. He glances over at her curiously, hoping she doesn’t notice his gaze. She lets out a quiet groan, clutching her lower stomach before curling into a fetal position, her face contorted in pain. Moments later, she slowly starts to rise.
Tav stumbles to fetch a flask of water, guzzling it down greedily. Astarion envies her ease in quenching her thirst while his own thirst rages inside him. Before long, he senses her absence, her scent growing fainter. He debates whether to leave her to sort herself out, but the primal urge to hunt and stalk his prey cannot be ignored.
Rising slowly, Astarion follows her scent through the trees to a nearby stream. His movements are fluid and silent as he approaches her. Tav is kneeling in front of the water, wringing out a blood-soaked cloth.
"Seems such a waste to wash that delicious blood away, darling," Astarion's voice, silky and smooth as velvet, slices through the night like a dagger. Tav lets out a startled squeal, spinning to face him.
"Astarion!" Her voice cracks with surprise as she stumbles back, but his hand shoots out to steady her, his touch cool against the small of her back as he prevents her from falling into the rocky stream.
His gaze is locked onto Tav's eyes, wide with astonishment, her pupils are dilated so only faint rings of color remain around dark voids. With his keen elven senses, he can hear the rapid thrum of her heart beneath her chest. Releasing her gently, Astarion steps back, his posture graceful and poised.
"Sorry, my dear," he says, softening his tone to one less intimidating. "I was merely ensuring no creatures were stalking you in the night as you wandered off. There are far worse dangers in these woods than bears, you know?"
"You mean like you?" Tav's words are sharp, but Astarion detects the faint quiver of her bottom lip.
"I just prevented you from bashing your skull on those wet rocks, and this is the gratitude I receive?" Astarion scoffs.
"I wouldn't have nearly slipped if you hadn't snuck up on me, asshole," Tav retorts, pushing him in the chest, though his feet remain firmly planted.
"Oh, my, you look adorable when you're angry," Astarion can’t help but smirk at her.
Tav lets out a frustrated grunt, attempting to stomp away, but Astarion catches her arm before she can pass him. Confusion clouds her face as she searches for an explanation for his unusual behavior. The facade of his usual sassy indifference had vanished, replaced by a tumult of desire and longing.
"Are you here to bite me?" Tav's voice trembles, strained as if she’s fighting back a scream. "I thought you were better than that. You promised me you wouldn’t feed on me unless I asked you to."
Astarion reaches out and takes the wet cloth from her hand, the hunger gnawing at him like a demon. Shamelessly, he presses it to his face, inhaling deeply. His vision is blurred, his head swimming in the intoxicating scent of her body that lingers on the fabric.
"Astarion, knock it off! You’re freaking me out," Tav snaps, snatching the cloth back and tossing it into the dirt.
"Tav," he whimpers, hating the desperation in his voice. Slowly, he releases her wrist, turning away to pinch his brows in an attempt to ease the splitting headache caused by her overwhelming scent.
"What in the hells is wrong with you?" Tav's voice remains cold, but concern flickers in her eyes as she speaks. She feels sorry for him.
Astarion straightens his stance, clearing his throat. "I apologize that I disturbed you. I’m not thinking straight," he announces before turning to walk back to camp.
"Wait," Tav said, and he freezes.
"I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. That I haven’t asked you to bite me the past few nights. I know you must know I’m on my period," she admits, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I didn’t know how you felt about it. I can see now that it’s driving you to madness, but I thought ignoring it was the best course of action. It’s embarrassing, really, and I’m having terrible pains in my stomach."
Astarion closes the distance between them in two swift strides.
"It’s hard to see you like this, so crazed with hunger, and I…" Tav's words falter as Astarion gently places his hand under her chin, lifting her face to meet his.
"Shh, Tav, my sweet. You’re going to put me in a second grave," he murmurs.
To his surprise, Tav presses her face into his with a gentle kiss, and Astarion's eyes close as a deep growl rumbles from his chest.
Tav removes her lips, "I’m sorry that was stupid of me to…" but Astarion wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing her body against his. He kisses her ravenously. His sharp fangs scrape softly on her bottom lip. A sensation of an unraveling overwhelms Astarion as he kisses Tav. It's a mixture of desire, longing, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. This feeling is unfamiliar to him, stirring emotions he's long kept buried beneath his cool exterior.
She relaxes in his arms, sinking deeper into his kiss. Her hand reaches up to ruffle his soft white curls while the other slips under his linen shirt, exploring the ridges and lines of his abdomen.
As they momentarily break their kiss, Astarion feels a rush of dizziness. He gently brushes her hair away from her neck and nuzzles into the curve of her shoulder. His tongue traces the faint marks on her skin, remnants of the nightly feedings he's had days prior. Despite the hunger clawing at him, he restrains himself from indulging further.
His hands, trembling with desire, slide down to the hem of Tav's shirt. He breathes against her ear, his voice a husky whisper, "May I?" Without a word, she responds by lifting her arms, granting him permission. In one smooth motion, he pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her skin. Astarion’s hands cup her breasts. The soft sound she emits as his mouth finds her nipple is music to his ears.
"Please, I need to taste you." He pleas between nibbles and licks on her chest. He no longer feels ashamed by his desperation.
"Oh, Astarion." Tav smiles, "You look so pretty when you beg."
“Gods," he groans, then steps back to remove his shirt before kneeling to the ground in front of her, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. "Tav," his voice is deep and soft, "I beg you." His hands reach out to grab her waist. "Let me taste you." He rests his forehead softly on her bare stomach. She places her hands on his and slides them down, encouraging him to remove her pants. Astarion is nearly trembling with anticipation as he helps her step out of her garments.
"Hold on," she stops him before he rips off her underwear. The bloodied rag that was freshly changed before he found her, was now soiled again with arousal and blood. "Should we find somewhere more comfortable?" She offers him her hand to help him rise back up.
Astarion feels lightheaded for a moment as he returns to his feet. However, as soon as he regains his balance, he scoops Tav up and carries her with remarkable speed to a clearing near the stream, where the ground is more sand than rocks. He lays Tav down on her back. He crawls towards her slowly, until his thigh is pressed firmly against her sex. As he lowers himself to kiss her once more, he gently hooks his other leg under hers and slides it up slowly, allowing her legs to part for him.
"Astarion?" She whispers to him when their kiss breaks, "You can feed on me tonight if you like."
He doesn’t even recognize the deep, feral growl that escapes his throat in response. "I was so hoping you would say that darling."
Astarion kisses his way down Tav’s stomach. She squirms at the feeling of his fangs brushing lightly on her ribs. He catches the waistband of her undergarments between his teeth and slides them down her legs to remove them.
He stops to hover over Tav for a moment now that she’s fully undressed. He savors the look she’s giving him through hooded eyes. Pausing, he appreciates the beauty of her bare skin splayed before him, relishing her scent before he consumes her.
"You’re too good to me, my pretty thing. I don’t deserve this, and I don’t deserve you." Astarion remarks before his head dips between her legs.
Astarion flattens his tongue and licks her once slowly, bottom to top. Tav tastes unbelievable. It still tastes like her blood, metallic and rich, but it’s enhanced with the flavor of her slick arousal, the must of her sweat, the flesh of her womb. If the blood in her veins is his water, his life source, the blood between her legs is like the finest of wines.
The hums and moans that leave Astarion's throat as he devours her are so animalistic, he can hardly hear Tav’s whines. He licks up every drop until she is clean then sticks his tongue deep inside her searching for more. His nose rubs in a side-to-side motion, pressed firmly against her apex, as his tongue explores.
"Oh gods, Astarion!" Tav gasps. He feels a slight sting on his scalp as she grabs a fistful of his silver curls while rocking her hips to match the speed of his tongue.
"I need more," Astarion rasps. His lips close around her bud He slides two slender fingers inside of her and starts pumping them in and out, coaxing out more blood. Her moans fill his ears like a siren’s song, adding to his pleasure. He can feel her insides tightening around his digits.
"Astarion. I…" Tav’s sentence is cut off by a wail of pleasure. He can smell the ecstasy flooding her blood, hear her heart pounding in her chest, and feel her body spasm and quake where he touches her. He doesn’t change the pace of his tongue or hand, dragging out her orgasm until she is panting and spent. He removes his fingers from her to lick them clean like a cat and notices a small trickle of blood leaking out of her.
"You may have just finished, darling, but I am not done yet. Nothing compares to the sound of my name cried from your lips, and I intend to hear it again." Astarion’s face dips back down to clean her folds. The amount of blood he can get from her body is not nearly enough to fill him. He needs to feed soon, a real meal, a pint of blood or more, not just a taste. But it can wait; the taste is too divine to stop.
Astarion hooks his arms under her thighs and flips onto his back, pulling her with him in one smooth motion. He grabs her hips as he forces her to a sitting position on his face, drinking her in. She shrieks and tries to pull away.
"Astarion, I need a minute. It’s too much." He releases his hands and stares up at her face with mid concern while she hovers over him. He tries to imagine how he looks to her right now.
"Can I ask you to be my mirror again, love?" He recalls the evening Tav found him looking at his empty reflection.
She studies him. "Your pretty face is absolutely covered with blood," she states. "Your lips are puffy and swollen. Your skin is thin and pale, paler than usual. Then there are your eyes…" she pauses, "they’re so red right now that they nearly glow in the light of the stars. There is nothing human, or even elf, left in them. They are the eyes of a monster."
Astarion grins wide, displaying his sharp fangs to her, "I am a monster, dear. Now can you please let me get back to consuming my prey?" His tongue extends from his mouth to lap against her swollen sensitive skin.
Tav tilts her head back and moans, exposing the full length of her gorgeous neck. Her back arches as she lowers herself onto his lips. Astarion grumbles in satisfaction when the taste of her dances on his tongue again. He grabs her thighs, in case she decides to pull away again, but instead she lowers onto him more, smothering him. She rocks against him, rubbing herself against his mouth and nose.
His lungs burn slightly, but he doesn’t need to breathe air to survive; it’s just a matter of an unconscious habit from before he turned into a vampire spawn. He needs air in his lungs to be able to speak, and it’s slightly uncomfortable if his lungs go without air for extended periods of time. He represses the memories of torture he had to endure over the centuries, where Cazador would deprive him of air for days just to watch him struggle. Astarion silently scolds himself for focusing on his lungs when his attention should be on the woman on top of him.
Tav bends her back further and places her hand on his waste to steady herself. Her hand brushes against the swollen bulge in his leather pants. His other primal urge is nothing more than an annoyance compared to his crazed lust to feed. But Astarion doesn’t protest when she starts to pet him through his pants as she continues to use his face like a toy. His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.
"Astarion!" His name sounds like a symphony when it exits her body. She collapses forward, cradling his head with her arms. He drinks her in, savoring all his senses. His hands run up and down her bare thighs that seem to burn with heat. She rolls off him and lands in the sandy dirt of the bank, lying flat on her back beside him. They breathe in sync, shallow and hard.
"Tav, I…" Astarion pants, still laying on his back. "I need to feed."
"I know, I told you that you could. It’s not enough, right? Down there I mean. I figured as much. Why didn’t you just go for my neck in the first place? Why starve yourself on tiny mouthfuls when you can just bite me?"
"The taste," he whispers, "It’s addictive. I can’t stop." He swipes a finger between her legs and places the pad of it against his tongue and groans.
"Astarion?" Tav rolls onto her side to gaze into his eyes. She places her hand against the puncture marks on her neck from his fangs. "Bite me."
Astarion rises to his feet. Stars briefly dance across his vision, then fade. He is again reminded of the throbbing of his groin and decides to remove his confining leather pants and exposes himself to her. It seems only fair to be as naked as she is.
Tav’s eyes bulge and her jaw slacks as she stares at him. She props herself up on her elbows and slowly opens her legs to him. The wanting look she gives him is the closest thing he’ll get to a reflection of his own eyes. He waits, tension coiling in his muscles in anticipation as he searches her expression for the words he longs to hear.
"Darling, I am supposed to be the one looking at you like a feast laid before me, but here you are, looking at me like I’m a fresh baked pie. I could practically wipe away your drool." He smirks down at her. His hand lazily strokes his length to tease her.
Tav's lips form the word "Please," her voiceless plea echoing in the quiet night.
"Please what, my pet?" Astarion teases, his voice low and filled with anticipation, as he listens to the rapid rhythm of her heart, quickening like a drumbeat.
"Please. I want you to bite me while you fuck me." Her voice deepens, her eyelids are heavy with lust. Astarion’s stomach flips, and he pounces onto her like a fox catching a mouse.
"Such a filthy little mouth you have." He tuts. While he arranges himself over Tav. It's a familiar position that they have practiced nearly every night since she invited him to feed on her, only this time they are skin to skin. His face lingers over her neck, his breath cools her blazing skin. The tip of his shaft is posed at her entrance. She bucks her hips in response, and he sinks into her partially, then withdrawals.
"You are mine." Astarion whispers into her neck. Pressing his lips to the partially healed wound from his last bite as he enters her again, sinking his entire length into her. Tav cries out in response, but he doesn’t move.
"Astarion, please," She whines. He raises himself onto the palms of his hands to look at her. Her eyes are glossy, tears are forming in the corners.
"Tav, Darling, you look so pretty when you beg." He echoes her earlier words. He wishes he could hold out a little longer to see how far he could tease her until she breaks, but his need to feed is too intense. He starts slowly pumping in and out. Her eyes close and her mouth opens wide in pleasure. She feels amazing, so tight, so soft, so wet with blood and arousal.
Tav places her hands on Astarion’s back and digs her nails in, only to pull away quickly when she feels the bumps of the scars she hasn’t yet seen. She opens her mouth to mention it but he quickly covers it with his blood stained lips. His tongue slips past her lips and moves with the same rhythm of his thrusts. She moans into his mouth as his pace quickens. Then he breaks her kiss to purr into her ear, ‘Do you taste yourself on my lips, beautiful? It’s delicious, isn’t it? You taste divine.’
Tav shivers beneath him and lets out a sob. His lips brush down her neck. Astarion snarls to expose his sharp, elongated canines then grazes them against her throat, ready to strike. His thrusts never stop, slamming into her repeatedly, as he finally sinks his teeth into her neck and sucks her blood.
"Oh fuck, Astarion!" Tav releases a scream and falls apart under him. Shaking and panting while grinding against him. He can taste the electricity of her climax surge through her blood as her heart beats with a steady rhythm, allowing the blood to flow through her veins until it reaches his mouth. Astarion feels a rush stronger than any drug, more enchanting than any spell or potion. Her walls spasm around him, while he slurps against her neck. He sucks her blood with intense force. Pinning her under him. He can’t stop.
After several moments of bliss, he notices she has gone completely still beneath him. It takes all his willpower to unlatch his fangs before he sits up quickly.
"Shit’." A wave of panic washes over Astarion as he inspects Tav. Her skin appears paler, almost gray. Her breaths come slow and shallow, and her heartbeat is faint and stuttering. Without hesitation, he scoops up her limp body and wades into the waist-deep waters of the nearby stream, gently lowering her in. The water feels warm against his skin, though he himself is generally cooler than most creatures. He hopes the temperature doesn’t send her body further into shock.
As he holds her in the water, Astarion's mind races with worst-case scenarios. He imagines having to speak with Withers to revive her, dreading the thought of explaining his actions to the rest of the camp. Tav won’t easily forgive him this time, he fears. He might be cast out or even killed. He curses himself for following her out here in the first place. She was right to avoid him these past few days.
Just as he begins to entertain thoughts of escape, Tav’s soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "Star?"
Relief floods through him. "Oh, thank the gods, Tav. I’m truly sorry. I got a little carried away." He holds her tighter against his chest, feeling her shiver against him.
"Cold," Tav manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Astarion carries her out of the water and gently sets her down in a patch of soft grass. He hurries to gather their scattered clothes, helping her dress into her pants and shirt. He wraps his own rumpled white shirt around her for extra warmth, then puts on his pants before rinsing the remaining blood from his face in the stream.
Returning to her side, Astarion finds her hugging her legs, the color slowly returning to her face. "Let’s get you back to camp near the fire. I’ll wake Shadowheart to see if she can heal you," he suggests, wrapping his arm around her.
Tav turns to him, her voice airy and soft. "No, I think I'll manage until morning." Astarion kisses her forehead as she embraces him, her hands rubbing slow circles on his back.
"Turn around," Tav demands, and he complies, allowing her to view the intricate scars covering his entire back. She traces them with her fingers. "What happened to you?" Her voice carries a tone of pity, and Astarion swallows a lump in his throat.
"It’s a poem," He explains calmly. "Cazador did it to me. He took his time. I don’t know what it says."
"Oh, Astarion, I’m so sorry," Tav responds with compassion that almost irritates him.
"You’re sorry?" Astarion snaps, turning to face her. "I nearly killed you tonight, and you’re sorry?" He immediately regrets the sharpness of his words. "No, Tav, I’m sorry." Pulling her into him, he collapses to the ground, and she lays her head on his bare chest.
‘Astarion, I…’ Tav starts to speak.
"Hush," he interrupts, holding a finger to her lips. "Listen." He tunes into the sounds of the environment around them—the rustling of tree branches in the breeze, the chirping of insects in the reeds, the rushing of water in the nearby stream. But the sound he wants her to hear isn’t external; it’s coming from within him. After several seconds, she jerks her head up from his chest to meet his eyes.
"Did… did I just hear your heart?" Her voice is filled with astonishment. "You have a heartbeat?" Her brows furrow in confusion as she searches his face for answers. "Is that another side effect of the tadpole? Like how you can walk in the sun?"
Astarion smiles at her. "Yes, you heard my heart beating. No, it’s not from the worm in my head. It’s from you, darling."
"What? How?" Tav’s confusion deepens.
‘Well, when I feed, especially if it’s a big meal, my body must circulate the fresh blood throughout it somehow. And in case you weren’t aware, I’ll give you a little anatomy lesson. I need blood in a certain area of the body to give you a performance like I did back there."
She stares at him in shock "So your heart will kickstart when you're full, or horny?"
"In simple terms, yes dear, and I do feel both of those right now. However, it only beats a couple times a minute, not like a living creature. Have you noticed the color return to my skin, and that my temperature is at least five degrees warmer than usual?"
Tav smiles softly as she lays her head back on his chest in silence, waiting to hear a soft thump again. "I can make your heartbeat," she whispers.
"Well Tav, it seems my heart belongs to you now," Astarion sighs. "I’ve never felt anything like that before. I’m practically drunk on you right now. When I told you were my first bite, I meant it and now I can’t imagine drinking the blood of anyone else. Not like I have many options anyways, no one else is exactly offering me their neck." She smacks him softly, and he lets out a chuckle before his face softens with worry.
"I don’t think it’s safe to do that again, though," He grumbles. "I nearly lost you." Tav looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I mean I would happily bed you again," Astarion continues, "and I still wish to feed on you if you allow it, once you're replenished, but I think we should keep dinner and sex separate from now on."
Tav scoots up to kiss his neck. Then rises to her knees and straddles him. Her hair forms a halo around her face as she looks down at him.
"What is Withers there for if we don’t use him once and a while. Plus, we have at least ten revival scrolls in the chest at the camp."
His heart beats again, slightly harder than the last time. "Are you giving me permission to suck you dry? You filthy little pup." His hands grab her rear, and he squeezes. "How did I get so lucky? Getting abducted by mind flayers seems to have been the best thing that has ever happened to me."
"I mean, I've never felt anything like that either. When you were draining me of blood, I let it happen, I didn’t want it to stop. I was in a daze as I slipped away. To be clear, I don’t think the others will approve of paying 200 gold coins to Withers, or wasting revival scrolls that could be used during a fight, every time I come to your bed, but if it happens… I trust you to bring me back. I guess my heart belongs to you now too. Since it pumps the blood through me that keeps you alive and thriving."
Astarion inhales deeply. "Well in that case, darling," his hand reaches up to grab her neck and he pulls her head down so her ear touches his lips "I think you're beating me three-nil in climaxes this evening. And I intend to double your score at the very least, and maybe get a point on the board myself before the sun rises." He glances down and notices a blood stain seeping through her pants onto his. He realizes didn't put her underwear back on nor replace her blood rag when he dressed her earlier. "Also, it looks like you might need a little cleaning up again, my love."
END
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navybrat817 · 6 months
Text
Mission Report
Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: After a night with the two demons, Brock comes to collect your body and faces the fury of all three of you. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, spitroasting, blood, violence (shooting, stabbing, and more), physical and mental torture, dark elements, death, revenge, implied noncon, possessive behavior, supernatural elements, Incubus Stucky (that's a warning, lovelies!). A/N: Fic #10 and final fic for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I had to revisit my incubi the day before Halloween and this is a direct follow up to Ready to Comply. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Less than a day passed since Bucky and Steve claimed you as their own, but it felt like you always belonged to them. You were their eternal award for their capture. They were your reward for the pain you endured. The three of you would scorch the earth together.
Your captors weren't strong enough to endure the flames.
As you lay naked on the floor as instructed, you counted the footsteps as the squad members got closer. There were three pairs of heavy boots, one set which belonged to Brock Rumlow. You almost pushed yourself up when fiery anger coursed through your veins. You wanted him turned to ash just so you could watch the wind blow him away into nothingness. It would be glorious to smile in the face of his demise.
“She feels your rage, Buck. Reign it in,” Steve ordered from where he sat in the corner.
“No,” Bucky spoke in an almost laidback tone from the opposite corner. “Let her feel it.”
In the very short time they bound you to them, you figured out that Steve was the more assertive of the two. It didn't mean Bucky wasn't forceful when he had to be. At the moment though, he wanted you to feel a bit more of his impulsive side.
“Now isn’t the time,” Steve chastised, making Bucky scoff in reply.
You lost the concept of time the day you were unwillingly taken under Hydra's wing. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds did you no good as you waited for whatever horror they decided to unleash upon you. The days were no longer a precious gift, but a stark reminder that you were closer to death.
A sound reminiscent of a snarl escaped as you opened your mouth. “Hydra took everything from me,” you grumbled as angry tears sprang to your eyes. “I want their blood to stain the ground. I want it to paint the walls.”
Thanks to the demons in your cell, your demons, you would get your revenge. You would live to fight again. And you would live to serve them. You promised them forever, after all.
An odd sense of comfort surrounded you and allowed you to breathe a bit easier. “We can feel your pain, sweetheart,” Steve whispered.
Bucky hummed, the warmth doubling within your chest. “We can also feel your strength, doll.”
“We'll spill their blood,” the blonde promised as you blinked the tears away. “But not if you're impatient. We need you to act docile when they take you out of the room.”
“Stevie's right. We know you're angry. We all are. They'll pay. Trust us,” the brunette agreed. “And we'll have lots of fun along the way.”
Demons were many things and played lots of tricks, but one thing they wouldn't do was lie to you. It allowed you to let the hurt go for the time being. “I'll behave,” you whispered when the footsteps stopped in front of the door.
“That's our girl,” the incubi said in unison, the words wrapping around your heart and reminding you that you weren't alone in this fight.
The bond crackled between the three of you as the door swung open. It allowed you to remain still, just like they told you to. You made no move to cover yourself as the men observed you on the floor. Your demons also made no move to go toward them. With the symbol above the doorway, there was no way for them to escape.
Yet.
“Well, well, well. I thought we’d find a corpse when we opened the door,” Brock smirked. Instead of snapping back the way you wanted to, you made a wounded sound instead. “But I guess they fucked the fight out of you after all.”
“She was a lot of fun to play with,” Bucky said, the phantom touch of his claw moving along your back easing you. “Really does go pliant with a cock in her.”
You had to bite your lip to suppress your moan. They wrung so much pleasure out of you that you stopped counting the orgasms. You were certain their seed was still dripping out of your holes.
“She was stronger than most,” Steve added, one of his claws joining Bucky’s as you made another small sound. It was arousing as much as it was calming. As fun as it would be to beg for their cocks in front of these men, now wasn’t the time to play. And the guards weren’t an audience who deserved to watch you get off. “Feel free to bring her back.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking freaks,” Brock sneered, his hand tightening around the taser prod on his hip. “Get up, bitch. We don’t have all day.”
You slowly lifted your head and held a hand out. All you had to do was pretend just a little bit longer. “Help me,” you whispered.
His lip curled in a dark smirk as he stayed in place. “You really think I’m dumb enough to go in there? Nice fucking try. Crawl if you can't walk.”
Bucky growled in your mind and Steve’s fury simmered in your core as you began to drag yourself across the cold floor, both of your demons itching to attack when the men laughed at your “weakened” state. You let them have their fun. It would be one of the last things they ever did in this world. And it would be your laughter ringing in their ears once their souls went to Hell.
Soon.
Once you crawled far enough out of the room, the guards finally moved to grab you. They each took an arm and yanked you to your feet, uncaring of your discomfort, as your head lolled from side to side. Brock’s eyes lewedly dragged along your shivering frame before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his dark eyes. There was no mercy in his gaze.
And you felt none in your heart for him.
The fingers on your chin tightened painfully, but you didn’t give Brock the satisfaction of whimpering. “Did you learn your lesson?”
“Yes, sir,” you answered before he forced you to look over your shoulder, your neck straining from the angle. Bucky and Steve’s eyes glowed a furious shade of red as they moved to the center of the room and stared you both down. It would’ve frightened you if you didn’t know that they were yours.
“I think they miss you already. Slut,” Brock taunted, saliva hitting your cheek as he roughly released you and walked down the hall. “Bring her to my office. Let’s see her fight back when she can barely stand on her own two feet.”
Steve whispered one word as the men began to drag you away. “Now.”
A surge of energy flowed through you as you harshly shoved the guard to your right away with enough force that he smacked the wall. Before the other guard could react, you grabbed his gun from his holster and aimed at his head. “Safety first,” you said, firing a bullet through his skull.
“Stupid bitch,” the first guard snapped as he straightened up. You grabbed his wrist when he reached for his gun, his skin warming under your touch as he gasped air. Just as quickly as his skin grew hot, he grew deathly cold.
“You feel that?” Bucky moaned.
“I feel it,” Steve confirmed. “She's giving us his energy.”
You didn't know how you were doing that since Bucky and Steve used sex to drain life force. Were you a conduit now thanks to your bond? Just how powerful had they made you?
“Help,” the guard gasped before you pressed the gun to his forehead and fired. You smiled when his body hit the floor. It felt like minutes, but happened in the span of seconds.
The blood along the walls also brought an unexpected moan out of you.
Blood. Red. Lust.
“That’s our girl,” Steve praised.
“Good fucking girl,” Bucky added, their pride in you making you whimper.
“Really?” Brock muttered from the end of the hall as he turned to face you, his gun in hand as you shrugged. “I should’ve known you’d do something stupid. Now I need to hire two more men.”
“Actually, you’re the one who did something stupid by giving me to them,” you said, gesturing behind you. “And we’re going to kill you.”
Your captor’s scoff made you smile more. He didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. “Just because you have the serum doesn't mean you're not expendable,” he said, aiming the gun at your heart. “Let's see you try and kill me with a bullet in your chest, bitch.”
“You’re not going to shoot me,” you spoke in a low and hypnotic voice. It wasn’t your own. Your demons were speaking through you. “You’re going to shoot the symbol above the door until you run out of bullets and drop your weapon.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Brock’s forehead as he slowly raised his arm higher, the veins in his neck straining as he tried to resist the order. He had every reason to be afraid. The marking was the only reason Bucky and Steve hadn’t killed him yet. Once they were free, he’d have to answer for his sins.
“What the fuck?” he asked.
“Doesn't feel good to not be in control, does it?” you replied, taking great pleasure in knowing he couldn't stop himself. “Shoot.”
You stared him down as he fired the first shot, watching him grit his teeth. Your nipples hardened as he fired again and you couldn’t help but dip a hand between your legs as power continued to move through you. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much with two dead bodies nearby, but revenge was exhilarating to say the least.
“Don’t get started without us,” Bucky called out, even as you envisioned him wrapping a hand around his cock. With a whine, you grudgingly stopped touching yourself. “I wanna taste you while he begs for his life.”
“Oh, he’ll beg,” Steve smirked, his claws scratching the wall by the door. “And we won’t listen to his prayers.”
“Shit,” Brock groaned, his arm trembling as he took his last shot.
The hall went silent as you dared to look behind you. Whatever marking that kept the demons trapped in that cell was gone now, lost in a pile of rubble and dust on the ground. “It’s time to play,” you said, urging them to come out.
The gun fell from Brock’s hand as Steve took the first step. He sighed happily when nothing prevented him from walking through, but the glow of his eyes was anything but comforting as he looked at Brock. With unnatural speed, he flew toward him as he reached for his radio. The snap of his wrist breaking was one of the best sounds you’d ever heard.
“Mmm. Break his other wrist, Stevie,” Bucky suggested as he stepped out of the room and joined you at your side. You gasped when he pulled you in front of him to grind his hips against you, his cock hard and hot against your skin. “Make him scream.”
“Fuck-” Brock screamed as Steve snapped his other wrist, his hands useless as the blonde demon grinned.
Steve brought his finger to his mouth and licked a drop of blood away. “You taste bitter,” he taunted before he lifted his head. “Another guard is on the way.”
Bucky chuckled as said man entered the hall a moment later. “All alone? That's brave and stupid.”
“Oh, my God,” he said as he surveyed the scene.
It had to be quite the sight. Blood and brain matter along the walls, the man's boss on the ground in pain, you and your demons naked and unafraid. Haunting and beautiful.
“There's no God here,” Bucky smirked as he lazily rocked his hips against you. “But feel free to pray anyway.”
“Do something!” Brock ordered through his pain.
Bucky spoke a command in his natural tongue as the guard dropped his gun. Fear radiated from him as he took a knife from his belt and turned the edge toward his throat. “I don't wanna-” he shoved the blade deep in his neck with wide eyes before he could finish his statement, gurgling as he collapsed.
“Die,” you whispered, completing his sentence.
You had to bite back a moan as Bucky turned your head to meet your lips in a filthy kiss, Steve smirking as he looked back at you two. The carnage fueled their need as much as yours. As the coppery scent of the blood continued to fill your nostrils, you justified that this was the right thing to do. The men made their beds.
They could die in them.
“Come in,” a voice on Brock's radio rang out.
“Shh. Don’t make a sound,” Steve ordered, grabbing Brock’s radio as the operative went eerily silent. His eyes bulged as the demon began to speak with his voice. “Go ahead.”
“Thought I heard commotion in the hall. Sent David in to assist. Do you need more backup? Over.”
“Negative. Subject tried to escape and we subdued her. All clear. But no one is to go in the South Wing, no matter what you see or hear. And tell all S.T.R.I.K.E. members to gather in the debriefing room and await further instructions. Over.”
“But sir-”
Steve's eyes flashed as he continued to speak like Brock. “Did I fucking stutter? Get the men there and stay the fuck out of here. That's a direct order. Over.”
“Roger that.”
Bucky chuckled when Steve crushed the radio in his hand. No alarms rang out. No soldiers ran down the hall to recapture you. There were no lockdowns. Brock knew he was fucked.
And not in the way you would be.
“You know, Rumlow. You truly are a dark soul with a penchant for pain,” the brunette began, nipping your shoulder as his hands roamed your body. “We could’ve worked out some sort of deal with you. Given you true power. But you just had to lock us up.”
Something dark surfaced from the depths of your mind as you listened. You saw yourself curled up, naked and trembling, in the corner of a cell similar to the one they kept your demons in as Brock advanced on you. “Make yourself useful or you’ll die choking on my cock,” he threatened. It was a memory you kept locked away after they captured you and shot you up with the serum. One they thought they erased for good.
The anguish was almost enough to drown yourself in.
“And you just had to hurt our girl,” Steve snarled, swiping his claws across Brock’s cheek when you whined.
“No one hurts our girl,” Bucky growled over his cry as blood sprayed from the open wounds.
You no longer felt like you were drowning as they fed you strength, allowing you to see clearly again. You always wanted someone protective by your side. Someone to fight for you. Now you had two beside you.
“He can’t hurt me anymore,” you said as the blonde grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back down the hall toward you. He may have yanked a few strands out along the way. “Would you like to hear my mission report, Rumlow?”
His chest heaved a bit as he lay on the ground, trying to breath steadily through the pain. “Yes,” he lied, knowing better than to smart off again.
You arched your back when Bucky covered your breast with his hand, squeezing it gently as Steve joined you and began to play with the other. “You tossed me in their cell with the hopes they’d drain my energy, but I came out stronger. You know why? Because I gave myself to them. All of me,” you explained. A gunshot rang out before Brock screamed and grabbed his knee, the pistol you stole from the dead guard now in Steve's hand. “Their power flows through my veins and my soul belongs to them. We’re bound to each other.”
“And her energy is delicious. Just like her cunt,” Bucky smiled as he turned and shoved you into Steve’s arms. He sank to his knees and winked before he tossed your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your slit. “Hold my horns if you need to.”
“I supposed we should thank you,” Steve said, tossing the gun away. He brought a hand back to your breast, pinching your nipple as Bucky licked along your folds. You grabbed his horns and squeezed when his wicked tongue got to work. “Whatever you injected her with helped her survive what would've killed a normal human. And the more we fucked her, the more she needed us.”
“Such a greedy, pretty thing when she takes our cocks,” Bucky spoke against your pussy, the image of him fucking your throat while Steve took you from behind shimmering in your mind. You could feel them inside you, claiming you as theirs. “Didn’t even take much for her to come when we took her ass.”
Your holes clenched, desperate for them to fill you again. “You tried to turn me into a weapon,” you moaned, smiling as blood dripped from Brock’s leg. “I guess, in a way, you succeeded. Because we’re going to destroy Hydra.”
Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as you squirmed. It wasn't enough. You needed more. “Three guards down.”
Steve smiled as he kissed along your neck, his lips lingering on your pulse. “And you’re next, Rumlow.”
“No,” Brock breathed, pushing himself up with his elbow. Fire filled your eyes when he met your gaze, his face going pale under your stare. Were your eyes glowing? “I-I can still join you. I can help.”
“I don’t think you can help us,” Steve said, nodding down to Bucky. His tongue stabbed deep with a moan as he swiped his hand along Brock’s thigh, his claws tearing through the tactical pants and skin. More blood splattered as he screamed in agony. “But you can bleed.”
“Beg. I want you to beg for me to save you,” you moaned, grinding against the brunette’s face before your expression twisted with anger. “I was innocent, you piece of shit.”
Where was your innocence now? Gone. Destroyed. But you made a choice. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness by joining forces with the incubi they captured. And you didn't regret it for a second.
“Please,” Brock said above a whisper, trying in vain to cover his wounds. How much had it taken for him to say that single word? “I-I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Save me.”
You regarded Brock with an unsympathetic gaze. You could show him compassion that he never bestowed upon you and let him see that there was still good in you. But where was the fun in that? What kindness did you possibly owe him?
You glanced back at Steve as you considered it, who merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You felt Bucky smile, too. They encouraged your fury, fueled it. These demons truly were glorious. Horrifying.
And they were yours.
“You're not sorry and you know the orders were bullshit. So as far as saving you?” You asked, smiling when the realization of his doom crossed his face. “No, I don’t think I will.”
Brock's hands flew to his head as he let out a cry of anguish. It filled the hall, like a song of agony as the lights flickered. The sound almost shook you to your core, but it fed into your growing darkness. You embraced it with a smile.
“Do you know who those screams in your head belong to?” Steve asked evenly as Brock continued to yell and thrash around. “That's the suffering of every person you ever hurt. All the pain you caused.”
Bucky pulled his mouth away to glare at him. “Including our girl.”
How many bodies had Brock and his men left on their path of destruction? How many lives had they ruined? It was only fair to return the favor.
“Stop it! Make it stop!” Brock cried, slamming the back of his head against the ground with enough force to crack it. “Stop!”
You cried out when Bucky shoved two fingers inside you, his claws careful not to cut you as he thrust deep. “You're close, doll. Dripping down my fingers,” he said, the sound of your wetness blending in beautifully with the wail of pain.
“He's close, too,” Steve said in your ear as he reached down to toy with your clit, playing with the sensitive bud with a grunt. You hardly paid any attention to Brock now, even as his body twitched and blood from his skull stained the floor. He was inconsequential to you as the light began to fade from his eyes. He was nothing. “It's the end for him.”
Bucky twisted his fingers with a smirk, your pussy quivering as you were ready to fall apart. “Come while he takes his last breath. Let go. Let it all go.”
Your vision swam as you did as he commanded, your entire body throbbing with pleasure. You felt the air leave Brock's lungs as bliss flooded you, Bucky's groan obscene as he brought his mout back to lick up your essence. Steve held onto you as you lost yourself, every part of you inside and out owned by their touch.
In that moment, you were invincible.
“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, his mouth and chin wet from your release as he took his fingers out and lowered your shaky limb from his shoulder. “Damn. I thought he'd last a little longer. I wanted to shove his taser rod up his ass.”
“You still can,” Steve said, kissing your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. You okay?”
The praise from both of them made you preen as you looked at the surrounding carnage, slowly coming down from your high. “I'm better than okay,” you exhaled, reaching out with your foot to nudge Brock's body, relief hitting you square in the chest when he didn’t move. Your tormentor was dead. And you wouldn't shed a single tear for him. “He's gone. He's really gone.”
“He is. And we're free, thanks to you, doll,” Bucky spoke, licking his fingers clean before he stroked himself, a cool shade of blue flickering from his red eyes. “Our mate.”
I'm theirs and they're mine.
And as their mate, you had to thank them. Take care of them. Worship their hard and aching cocks the way you were made to.
“Fuck me,” you breathed.
“With pleasure,” Steve smiled, putting you on your hands and knees before he sank down behind you. He shoved his thick cock inside you with no warning, the head of it practically kissing your cervix as you screamed. “This is just the beginning. We have more lives to destroy when we’re done fucking you. For now.”
Bucky tapped his cock against your cheek affectionately before he pushed inside your eager mouth. “Alexander Pierce. Jasper Sitwell. Everyone. We'll kill them all,” he promised, snapping his hips in time with Steve as you moaned, letting them use you like a ragdoll between them. But you didn't feel used in the slightest.
You felt complete.
“You're free,” Steve grunted, bringing his palm down on your ass with a sharp slap. “We're free.”
He was right. You were finally free from the shackles Hydra tried to put on you. And you couldn't wait for the carnage the three of you would continue to spread, once you could form a coherent thought. All you wanted for now was for them to paint every hole of yours until there wasn’t a drop left.
Bucky's head fell back with an excited moan, as if he read your mind. “And we have so much time to make up for. So take our cocks and let us fill your holes before we burn this place to the ground.”
That was a mission you were more than happy to complete.
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So, THAT happened and I'm not sorry. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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emerald-emerlad · 10 months
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Arcane Order Week Day 3 - Haircut
Another short oneshot about events after Wizards!!
No content warnings apply! There's not much angst because this was also written in like 20 minutes, so yeah :p.
@arcaneorderweek
Word Count: 715 (Not beta read)
Bellroc lands with a thump in the alleyway, kicking up dust as a rat scurries away. They wrinkle their nose, disgusted by the scattered garbage and rotting smell. Kicking a can out of their way, Bellroc places a small illusion spell over them and walks out of the alley, scanning the streets for Nari.
They can sense her, though faint. So can Skrael. To Bellroc, it reminds them of a string. A string wrapped around each of them that pulls them closer, no matter how much they try to cut it. Bellroc crosses a street to enter what humans call a ‘Barber shop’. The seats are all taken, and a quick look tells them that Nari left already. They let out a huff and exit. 
“Not there?” says a blue-haired teen next to them, and they jump. “Hey, calm down! It’s me.”
“What are you wearing?” Bellroc mutters under their breath, looking Skrael up and down. “Do humans really look  like that?”
Skrael flips their short pixie cut hair back and his piercings rattle slightly, making a jingling sound. “Well, I like it. It helps me express myself.”
They scoff and look away. “So immature. There’s no way Nari’s going to come back to us if we are unpresentable.” Bellroc raises their head to feel the air, then takes a left with Skrael following close behind.
“You seriously think she’s going to choose to come back?” he asks, making it sound like a genuine question. “After everything that happened? Us trying to kill the people she called ‘friends’?”
Bellroc walks faster, the string getting shorter as they approach a large park. “We will give her no choice. She must return. We’re her family.” 
Skrael sighs, not arguing. As they enter the park, the string gets blurry. Nari’s in disguise, Bellroc realizes with a twinge of annoyance. “She’s hiding here,” they growl. “Split up. Do not let her get away.”
Skrael yawns and bounds away, obviously not taking this seriously. Bellroc hisses, smoke sneaking out of their mouth as they scan the park. “Nari…” they whisper.
They spot a young teen with a green bob cut feeding the birds by a bench. Summoning their staff, Bellroc takes a step closer before pausing. A younger boy, not the wizard from Arcadia, but a child, runs over and scares the birds away. The teenager sighs and stands up, suddenly spotting Bellroc.
The world seems to pause. Bellroc stares at the girl, trying to spot any recognizable features. The string leads right there.
With a small flash of green light, the girl transforms back into Nari’s real form. But her hair- it’s different. It’s longer, braided. A pang of nostalgia and regret hits Bellroc square in the chest. She watches them with something that resembles curiosity.
Shaking whatever feeling they had away, Bellroc takes a step closer and raises their staff, ignoring the stares of the people around them. “Nari, it’s time to come home.”
Nari smiles sadly, and her eyes flash bright green. “Oh, Bellroc. We never had a chance, did we?”
“What does that mean?” They snap, and without warning, someone to their left shouts a chant and a beam of energy knocks Bellroc off their feet, sending them into a nearby bush. They stumble up and immediately throw a fireball towards where the spell had come from, but it hits the ground and Skrael runs over to them. 
“Are you alright? What happened?”
“I saw her- I had her, Skrael. She didn’t want-” Bellroc pushes him away and stands up, looking around. Nari and the wizard are nowhere to be seen. People have their phones out and are aiming it at them, but Bellroc throws up their staff and Skrael and them teleport away. 
The string had vanished. Bellroc can’t feel Nari anywhere. “She didn’t want to come back, Skrael. Why- why not?”
“We’re not her family anymore,” he says sadly. “The wizard is.”
“She was different,” Bellroc murmurs. Nari’s haircut stuck in their mind. “She’s not like us anymore.”
“She’s got more defenses than we thought,” Skrael mutters, resting his hand on Bellroc’s shoulder. “How will we find her now?”
“By any means necessary,” they spit, and begin to walk over to the edge of the building, surveying the streets below. “She can’t hide forever.”
on ao3:
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dreamcrow · 1 year
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For the fanfic sentence: It was the first time they’d seen such a creature — a lightning bug, she’d called it. >:3
(for this fic game; thank you for the ask!)
In which the great and terrible Keeper of the Flame...continues to learn about creatures.
93 words, on ao3
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