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sweetenerobert · 2 months

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toy story

8.1k | action figure!joel miller x male reader

summary: contemplating throwing out your favorite toy, he comes to life and makes your last night before you leave for college memorable

warnings: MDNI 18+, agalmatophilia, strong language, slight possessive joel, childhood friends to lovers (if you squint) no mention of age besides reader leaving for college, l-word drops, pet names (mostly doll and baby), spanking, dirty talking joel, no description of reader, but joel lifts you (1), oral (m!giving/m!receiving) rimming, spit as lube, unprotected p in a, creampie,

inspired by this post , also huge thanks to @strang3lov3 new tattoo for this fucking idea, i love you so much and thank you for letting me rant to you about this idea that been in my drafts for FUCKING MONTHS

thanks to @minispidey for beta, love you <333

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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read it on a03 as well

I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS!! SOOO MUCH!!

Moonlight piercing through the cotton curtains of your childhood bedroom, dust dancing through the luminescent shards from your window. Two boxes stacked on each other in the corner of your room, your closet’s life ripped away from the clothes once hung in the small confined space.

Wiping the sweat that littered your forehead as you huffed a breath, you lay down on the small circular rug that riddled the floor, staring at the ceiling light. You were getting ready to leave for college, and packing up your life seemed more stressful than lifting weights off your shoulders.

Constant choices about what to throw away or bring with you kept swimming in your brain, and overthinking two simple decisions kept making your head spin, mostly ending with you sitting silently thinking about your answer. This wasn’t one of those situations; you had just finished packing and felt like you deserved a break.

Alone in your childhood home while your parents had picked up late shifts and your siblings were out, the silence was deafening, but you preferred the quiet. It gave you time to process everything. Seeing the stars tapped onto your ceiling made you smirk as you glanced around your bare room.

Eyes catching an object underneath the bed, you turned your body to understand the object better. It was your old lumberjack action figure when you were a kid; it must’ve fallen off the shelf over your window. You don’t remember if it came with a name or you made it up, but you called him Joel.

That name stuck with you until now, even when you were a kid, when you introduced Joel to your friends as they commented on it. Being a “weird name,” you didn’t care; you loved the name.

Attempting to grab him from the bed, you realize that it would be easier to grab Joel from your bed. You were quickly climbing up on your bed and scrambling to the side, quickly sliding your hand down the crack of the wall and your bed. Tips of your fingers grazing the fake axe on the back of the action figure, biting your lip as your nail pulls the toy closer towards the wall, retracting your head a few feet up as you see it closer to the wall.

The action figure is in your grasp, sliding your knuckles up on the cold wall while your palm touches the cotton sheets wrapped around your mattress. The toy is now in your hand, and you notice how it’s looked the same after all the years. A couple of tiny patches of color are missing from his plastic hair, and his face and plastic beard stay the same. Joel’s clothes are dusty, balls of lint cover his pants and shirt, and his boots are dustier than anything. You quickly blow a puff of air, trying to clean him off the best you can.

“Hey, Joel. How ya been?’

Did I use to talk to this thing? Man, I was a weird kid.

Joel was your therapist before you even knew what therapy was — telling him about how you finally could spell Wednesday without misspelling it, How you passed each spelling/vocabulary test, and how the boys at school were bullying you. Joel always listened to you; he was your toy, and he didn’t care as long as he was there to protect you – metaphorically.

Loving Joel was easy—he was your first crush—but trying to explain that to a toy was difficult. Bringing Joel with you to live in your college dorm seemed like a hard decision. Glancing at the tiny trash can next to your bed, you glance back at Joel and discard him in the trash bin.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you looked at the bags and boxes that had cluttered the corner of your room and huffed a breath in annoyance as you decided it would be wise to have your life packed away downstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize how much you hated your fucking stairs. You were leaning on the top of the stairs – on the handrail, catching your breath. Your bedroom was in your field of view; you would’ve crawled into your room if your knees hadn’t creaked with each movement.

One of the main things you wouldn’t miss about your house would be the stairs that killed you slowly with each trip up and down the wooden stairwell.

Slowly getting up from the floor, your feet trudged towards your bedroom door. You were pushing the gateway of your bedroom, earning a creak from its hinges. Your eyes glanced down towards the dark chocolate wood floor with each step into your room. “Finally, I’m ready to lay down in my –” You started to pick your head up, glancing at the figure sitting on your night, playing with a pink eraser he must’ve found in the trash bin.

“– bed.”

"Doll, what's up with you throwin' me away?"

W-what? That one question kept flying around in your head. Not, who is this? Not, what is happening? Just a simple question: What kept spinning around your head?

In the back of your mind, you knew who it was sitting in front of you. It wasn’t a dream, not your imagination; it was real life. Your action figure — your lumberjack, Joel in the flesh?

He looked real, too real. His hair's curls looked fluffy, and his skin's wrinkles looked defined. His clothes looked like he’d gotten them from a store, with wrinkles littering his shirt and jeans and his boots rubbing against the wood. Your childhood toy was in front of you, alive and in the flesh.

“Too stunned to speak, doll?”

Shaking your head from the thoughts swimming around you, you look at the male before you. “What?”

“Got my answer. Can’t believe I rendered my doll speechless.”

Joel’s build shocked you as he stood up from his position; his shoulders were broad, his biceps bulging from his flannel – you knew he rolled his sleeves up. Vein’s threatening to burst from his arms and hands. Your former action figure who walked in front of you felt menacing, like his aura made you cower in fear, but instead of fear, it was astonishment. That something you wished for years ago finally came true.

“How is this possible? How are you real?” You quivered.

“The better question better be, “Why would I throw out such a precious toy?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, doll, y’think I’m stupid or somethin’; I knew y’threw me out. Half m’foot was in the trash can when I started growing.”

The answer was plain and simple: you didn’t want to bring him with you to college or leave him to give to someone else, so you thought just about getting rid of him would be. Clearly, Joel’s surprise appearance made things more complicated than they should. “I didn’t throw you out,” You quickly spat out. “You fell in there by accident.”

Joel’s tall figure stood tall in front of you, his once plastic hand – now turned flesh and genuine, his thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. Your body was shuddering against his touch. “Y’know your body betrays you, sweetheart.”

“Just be honest; it doesn't hurt me, jus’ your pride.”

“J-Joel, listen —”

“Ah, now you know I exist; you were treating me like some hallucination,” Joel announced, backing up, sticking his thumb in the waistband of his jeans.

“You’re aware that this could very well be a hallucination,” You shrugged.

“Slap yourself, then.”

“Huh?”

“Slap. Yourself. In. The face. Then.” Joel enunciated.

“N-No! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed.

“Okay, fine, then. You’ll never know if this is a hallucination then.”

Groaning, you quickly connected your palm against your cheek, the skin on your palm and face stink earning a wince that you suck from your teeth.”Happy, now?”

“Blessed. I’m pretty sure you have many questions, which aren’t important, because we need to figger out why you threw me out?”

“I told you, I didn’t–”

“Doll, I’m not stupid. I saw you put me in there, now don’t bullshit me.”

The skin on your palm and cheek had been itchy to the point you wanted to scratch your palm and face simultaneously, resulting in you rubbing your knuckles on your face. But you didn’t even want to answer Joel—your childhood toy. Hurting your friend's feelings was something you never wanted to do; imagine how Joel would feel knowing the boy who had played with him since he was a kid didn’t want to take him to college with him.

But it was something that you had to say, something that you would dread telling anyone you love.

Deciding to rip the band-aid faster than slow, you take a breath, look at Joel’s once painted-on brown eyes, and see a soul behind his real-like eyes. “I didn’t want to take you to college with me, and giving you away seemed way too hard even to think about. So I threw you away.”

Joel looked shocked by your confession. He thought he was ready to hear what you had to say, but Joel wasn’t; he was more perplexed than anything. Moving from where he stood before you, he stumbles on the mattress and sits down to collect his thoughts. Joel’s head hangs as you sit down next to him. It was reminiscent of when you were younger and would watch movies in your living room, having Joel sit next to you while you imagined him laughing or getting mad at a character like you were.

For once, the silence in the room was deafening, and you didn’t like it; you didn’t know what Joel would say, which terrified you.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Joel nodded. “Yeah,” He snuffled. “Was just thinkin’ bout somethin’.”

“What was it?’

“Joel, when I’m older, I’m taking you everywhere with me, no matter what. You're going to be with me during college, and even when I get the big boy job like my daddy does, you’ll always be there.”

The action figure you played with your whole childhood quoted what you told him in those peak years of being a kid and had nothing to worry about.

“I said that, I'm guessing?”

Joel nods. “You were always a happy kid, no matter what happened, always smiling.” You chuckle at Joel’s statement. It made a smile appear as you remembered that he was always there with you. But, you had to face the fact that you weren't a kid anymore; those promises you made to a toy — a mere plaything- weren't something you thought about as a hormonal teenager.

Shaking your head, you snap your head at Joel. “Joel, I was a kid back then. I didn't know that growing up would be so different than what I thought.”

“I- I can't be that same kid again. I wish I could trust me, I wish I could, but I can't.”

“It’s a shame,” Joel starts. “I would’ve loved t’see you grow up.”

“I mean, you technically did, right?”

Joel chuckles, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

The cicadas appeared to disrupt the silence in the room when you didn't know what to say to Joel. You hated breaking your best friend’s heart, but being honest was something Joel wanted other than being lied to. “Do you want a hug?”

“I would love that,” Joel’s southern drawl appeared as you wrapped your arms around Joel, and his arms wrapped you around in a bear hug.

Hugging Joel felt weird but right – a seemingly impossible wish you fulfilled. You begged to be able to hug Joel, have him hold you in his arms, and melt together, being safe in each other’s arms. “M’gonna miss ya when you’re gone,” Joel grumbles against your head. As you hugged Joel, questions began to swim in your mind as you squeezed his waist; it felt like you were hugging an actual human. The way his body resisted against the tight hold on him, his body felt warm against yours.

“Okay, wait a second,” you announce, releasing yourself from Joel’s grip and standing before him.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks, resting one hand on his knee and his forearm on the other knee. You watch at the skin around his wrist, and the watch starts to bend as if he were human.

Questions were floating in your head; you didn’t know where to start, but you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. “How did this happen? How are you walking like this?”

“I’ve always done it, just done it when everyone isn’t home.”

Perplexity rode your face as Joel’s answer made you think about more questions you wanted to spit out. “So, you’ve always been able to walk around and be so human-like?”

“Yeppers.”

“So, you heard everything?”

Joel nods.

“Everything?”

“If you’re referring to the times I’ve heard and seen you jerk off and get fucked in here, then yes, everything,” Joel mocked.

Heat rose to your face. Joel had seen everything, the most vulnerable parts of your body. Things that you wouldn’t admit to if your family asked about it. “Even when–”

“Not when you were a kid, I’gave you your privacy. Scout’s honor.”

“But, you’re not a scout but a lumberjack.”

Joel shrugs. “You’re point?”

“My point is–” You exhale a breath as a hand slides down your face. “If ya wonderin’ of anythin’ sex-related–” Joel interjected.

One question swam around your mind in that topic Joel mentioned. “Can you fuck?” You question, crossing your arms. Joel’s chuckle sent chills picking at your “tough-guy” demeanor. That nervous feeling rose, making you worried about his answer. “If I tell you the truth, will you mind?”

Reflexically shaking your head, you waited for Joel’s answer. “Yes, doll. I can.” Without thinking, you asked Joel. “How?” Joel answered by pointing at you. “You’ve done some pretty interesting things, doll.”

Moving your head as you eye roll at the “man” before you. “I’m scared to ask, but–”

“You’re interested if I had fucked anythin’?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” You don’t know how to feel about Joel’s confession. On the one hand, you were intrigued by what Joel had done; on the other hand, it made you feel like you were stepping into a zone you weren’t comfortable with entering. “Wow, my old toy, fucking other toys? I’m guessing.”

Joel chuckles. “Y’know your sister’s Barbie doll? Fucked her, Ken watched.”

A grimace appeared on your face as Joel's sudden statement made you feel like the cold rushed in from your bedroom. “Wow,” you started. “Wait, Barbie and Ken can become real, like you?” Joel nodded at your answer.

“Huh, well. You learn something new every day.”

“Blame yourself, doll. I learned everything from you.”

Confusion rode your face, trying to act innocent like you had no reason behind Joel’s actions. “What do you mean?” You shrug.

Joel stands up, his hands draped by the stitched pockets of his jeans, his boots slowly connecting with the hardwood floors, causing you to walk backward at your leisurely pace. You and Joel were working in tandem—with each step he took, you took a step back. You felt slightly intimidated. In the back of your head, you never thought you would feel unnerved by a toy—a toy you never would’ve expected to come to life.

That rush of cold flew through your back when you connected with the side of your closet, bringing your hands to the wall; that cold sensation connected with your hand. Joel’s looming figure had been present before you, his hand outstretched beside your head. Joel slowly moves his head toward your head; you feel his warm breath against you, causing your spine to chill — mentally blaming the wall.

“C’mon, doll. You know exactly what I mean.” Joel’s voice made your breath hitch as you felt his mustache tickle against your neck. “I know what you want, your likes, know what you like to be called,” You feel Joel’s realistic fingers on your chin as he picks your head up to look into his eyes; you watch as he backs up from your ear.

His soft but calloused hand was on your chin, slowly dragging his hand against the fabric of your shirt as you watched the wrinkles in your shirt flatten under the path his hand was sliding down your torso. You watched as the wrinkles disappeared, only to reaper after Joel’s hand moved from its position. Joel’s hand was slow but not too slow, like a snail’s pace, slow to the point where you felt each goosebump underneath his hand — under your shirt.

Joel’s hand had stopped on your waist, while his other hand was above your head as he leaned closer to your eyes. Bracing for the impact of Joel’s lips on yours, you close your eyes.

The feeling of plump, soft lips against yours sent shivers traveling down your spine as you felt the grip on your waist was getting tighter — rougher. Your hands travel from the wall into Joel’s soft curls. You wanted Joel in the moment; you craved him — yearned for him. Memories of you dreaming of kissing Joel had finally come true; you didn't expect the kiss to feel so passionate, an end-of-the-world kiss — one that stopped the world from spinning.

The feeling of silk had flown through your fingers as you contorted your hands with Joel’s hair. Joel’s hands slid from your waist onto your ass — squeezing lightly, you gasped against his lips.

Your heart skipping a beat seemed impossible, but Joel’s kisses begged to differ. Your hands slipped from Joel’s hair onto his face, and you felt his defined jawline and patchy beard; you felt soft but coarse underneath your palms, which was something you couldn’t imagine. Reminiscent of when your fingertips would travel against the painted beard, always wondering what it looked/felt like, at this moment, you can.

Joel’s big hands leave an imprint on your ass; slowly, his hands start sliding down toward your inner thigh, bending his back closer to you so the connection of your lips doesn't break. “Jump,” Joel grumbles against your lips. You push your feet off the ground as Joel’s strength lifts you, chuckling against his lips, wrapping your legs around Joel’s waist; you feel his hands under your thighs, gripping into you with passion; you think his nails may leave crescent moons into your skin.

Cold drywall leaves your back as Joel slowly turns you both around so your bed can face your back. With each step, your and Joel’s noses keep bumping into each other as your faces keep moving side to side from your passionate kiss. Joel’s mouth leaves yours as his lips trail down your jawline, lightly sucking. Your hands return to Joel's hair as his lips end on your neck.

Lips on your neck, sucking, biting, Joel marking you with his lips, your moans kept escaping your lips as your fingers flowed through Joel’s hair like water. “Y’like that, baby?” Joel growled. You hiss through your teeth before answering. “Fuck, yes. I love it, Joel.”

Quickly turning his body, Joel sits on the edge of your bed. Your knees indent your mattress as you feel sitting down. His lips return to yours as Joel wraps his arms against the midsection of your back, melting your bodies together. Your hands make their way from Joel’s head onto his broad shoulders. Thinking the flannel was warming his skin, you wanted to get rid of it.

Backing slightly away, you slip your hands down his hardened chest; you start to fumble with the first button. Quickly unbuttoning the first one, you were on your way to the next one; Joel took notice of your hands and broke the kiss to look at what you were doing. “What are ya doing, doll?”

“Trying to get this flannel off you,” You grumble, popping the second button off.

“Lemme help.”

Joel moves his arms from your waist onto his flannel, smiling at you as you watch him pop the buttons out the loops. You watch as your childhood crush takes off his flannel and throws it over your shoulder, chest hair littering his chest. You slowly bring your hand onto his chest—above where his heart should be — but you don't feel a bump vibrate against your hand. You remember that Joel isn't human, which somewhat shatters your heart.

Joel notices your saddened eyes; he places his hand over yours and looks deep into your eyes, his brown eyes piercing into your soul. “J’so ya know, I may not have a heart, but my love f’you is more important than anything else in this goddamn world. You're one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“I don't want to live in a world where I don't see your smile every day; it's a reminder t’myself that no matter what, my love for you is the most real thing for me.”

You smirk at Joel’s confession, quickly smashing your lips against his. The tears brimming your tear ducts, trickling down from your eyes, wiping your eyes as you back up and look at Joel. “You are such a softie, you know that?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Joel quickly pushed his lips against yours, wrapping his arms around your midsection and moving your arms around his neck.

Feeling Joel’s smile against your lips, you're quickly surprised when you feel Joel stand up and, in one motion, spin you both around so your back is on your mattress. You can’t help but smile gleefully as he backs up from you — sliding your shirt up and planting kisses trailing from your chest to your navel. His thick fingers grab the waistband of your pants as he slides them down. “Lift your hips, doll.” You do as Joel commands; he slides your pants off your thighs and throws them in the corner where your hamper used to reside, leaving your underwear on, your cock hard and covered by your underwear.

“Look a’that, y’hard f’me already, doll?” You chuckle at Joel; you gasp as you feel his lips press the tip of your hard-covered cock. With each kiss brought against the tip and the shaft of your cock, it feels like heaven to you, bringing you absolute bliss against your skin. You get your foot against Joel’s shoulder as your other one hangs off the edge of the bed, arching your back in pleasure as Joel’s mouth moves down your thigh.

Joel looks up at you and smiles as he kisses your leg. Noticing the wet spot appears on your underwear. Pre-cum slowly escaping the slit of your cock. “Let’s get these underwear off you.” You didn't need Joel to tell you to lift your hips reflectively. You lifted your pelvis, and he slid the underwear off you. Your hard throbbing cock slaps against your navel, a line of pre-cum connects with your stomach. “God, you’re s’fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

Standing up from his position, he softly presses his lips against yours, bringing his hand into the bend of your knee, his other hand holding the side of your face. Joel’s tongue licked your bottom lip, awaiting your mouth to open. Slightly parting your lips, Joel slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to smile at Joel’s eagerness.

“How do you feel?” Joel questions against your lips.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic.” You answer, bearing your teeth. “How about I make you feel even fuckin’ better.” Joel’s question came out as a statement, causing you to question his meaning. Without warning, Joel backs up from your face and laps his tongue on the shaft of your cock, making a moan escape from your mouth, sliding his tongue slowly up the head of your cock, moans escaping your mouth. “F-fuck, Joel,” You breathe.

“Y’like that, baby?”

You breathe out an answer as Joel starts playing the slit of your cock with his tongue. “Yes.”

“Makin’ sure that you deserve somethin’. You’re too precious to be mistreated.”

Joel must've heard all the times you would complain to your best friend about how one guy seemed great but lacked something when it came to sex. Joel was showing what you’ve been craving for a guy to reciprocate when you pleasured them, but he wasn't expecting anything back; he was just glad to pleasure his boy first.

Wrapping his mouth slowly around the tip of your cock, Joel slowly goes down the shaft of your length, causing you to moan and white knuckle your sheets as you throw your head back — arching your back and snapping your eyes shut in pleasure.

His pace was slow but patient. Joel wanted to make you feel something you rarely experienced — over the moon. Wrapping his hands around the shaft of your cock, his fingers would let go for a moment before wrapping.

Dragging your fingers into Joel’s curls, you slowly push his head down, hoping he could speed up. “Fuck, Joel. Can you go faster, please?”

“I can do ya one better, doll.”

As Joel’s mouth felt warm around your cock, he started to go faster as you gasped in pleasure; you felt Joel’s hand slide from your thigh as he slowly began to tease your hole. The skin of your taint felt sensitive with each stroke of Joel’s finger teasing you; each swipe, each light prodding made your body shiver in anticipation. Your cock has never been in overdrive as much as this — Joel was slowly rising you towards your peak. Your cock twitches in Joel’s mouth showing the throbbing pain that was threatening to shoot out.

Slowly and agonizing, Joel slides his mouth off your cock, swallowing his spit; Joel wipes the reminder off his lips with the back of his hand, glances at you, and chuckles as Joel strokes your cock. “Y’close, doll?”

“Yes,” You whimper. “So fuckin’ close. It hurts so much. Can I cum yet, Joel?”

A chuckle left his throat, a sly smirk appearing on his face as he stared at you. Joel stops pumping your cock — landing on your stomach, precum leaking from the slit. “Not yet, doll. We haven't had our fun yet.”

Lifting your legs, Joel slides his head down deeper in between your thighs. He laps his tongue against your aching hole; a shaky moan escapes your lips as you hold your legs up so Joel can get better access to your hole. His hands are planted on your inner thighs as he keeps his tongue against your taint.

Joel’s tongue felt like magic against you, showing you things you’ve never felt before — things you’ve only imagined happening. His tongue sliding up and down, in and out of your hole, made you want to cum by how much Joel was treating you.

His plump lips planting kisses against your taint made your toes curl — the bones could pop out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs, your moans escaping from you with each movement of Joel’s lips and tongue was giving you pleasure.

That sensation of something feeling pushed inside you came rushing in as you let go of one of your thighs, gripped the sheets below you, and threatened to rip them up. You look down at Joel, looking up at you with a smirk on his face; you notice what is being pushed inside you; Joel’s thick middle finger has taken a turn to please you.

“Y’like that, don’t you, baby?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, throwing your head back, closing your eyes, and biting your lip.

“I told ya, I know what you like, basically what you’ve been yearnin’ for.”

“But, you gotta let me know if it’s too much for you, baby. I can't read minds yet.”

“It’s it too much?” Joel questioned.

You shake your head to deny Joel’s question. “It’s just right, it’s so fuckin’ right,” You grit your teeth.

Sliding another finger in, Joel’s pace had gone faster. You knew Joel was trying to test your limit; you never knew your limit; you were glad to try to figure it out with someone you trusted.

“Look at that; your hole wraps around m’fingers; it keeps sucking me in no matter how hard I try to pull out.”

Sudden movements from your hips as you kept raising your hips and bringing them back down. Gritting your teeth, tiny whimpers left through your teeth. Pleasure flowed through your entire body — a new goal you never knew you could reach.

Joel would never admit this, but him being the reason whimpers were leaving your mouth, you squirming because of his fingers and mouth, he was fucking over the moon to be the first person ever to make you feel this way.

“J-Joel?” You breathed.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I please suck your cock?”

Joel was conflicted by your question; all he wanted to do was make you feel good, he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but he wanted to know what that perfect mouth of yours felt around his cock.

Slipping his fingers outside your hole, aching for more, Joel smirks at you and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, you can, doll.” As you sit up, you notice the length that resided in his jeans; your eyes almost pop from their sockets from what you have just seen. You’d never seen anything that big in porn, yes, but never in real life.

Noticing your astonishment, Joel looked at his jeans and then back up at you. “Is this size good enough, sweetheart?” You nod your head. Sliding your back against the mattress, you slid so your knees hit the wood below you. Watching the eagerness flood Joel’s eyes made you feel that excitement swimming in your stomach. The button of his jeans popped above you, and hearing the zipper going down, you watched as Joel’s cock popped out from its restraints.

Joel’s throbbing cock bounced in front of you, precum leaking from the slit of Joel’s cock. In your eyes, Joel’s cock looked more realistic than plastic. You wouldn’t lie; you were a curious kid; you had removed Joel’s clothes before and only noticed a blob on where his dick was now. The veins traveled up the shaft of his cock, stopping at the mushroom tip of his cock. The happy trail from Joel’s tummy showed up his pubic hair that rested above the shaft of his cock. Your mouth went dry in anticipation. It was the first you had seen a dick this big and thick before and so close to your face.

“You alright, doll?”

Shooting your eyes up at Joel, you can tell a bit of worry on his face. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just never seen a dick this big before,” You admitted. Bending down so his face is in front of you, softly placing his hand against your cheek in reassurance. “We can take it slow if you want to.” You nodded at Joel’s words as he planted his lips against your forehead and stood straight. Dragging Joel’s jeans down as your knuckles brushed up against the hair on Joel’s thighs, gravity stopping Joel’s jeans when they stop at his ankles, your hand wraps the shaft of his cock. You slowly wrap your lips around the tip of Joel’s cock, and you hear him exhale in pleasure.

Slowly pushing your head down the shaft of Joel’s cock, lips wrapped tight, you feel the veins trace the skin of your lips as the head of Joel’s cock press into the back of your throat. A groan of pleasure escapes Joel’s lips as you back your head up. You push your head forward and back leisurely, and you can tell the pace makes Joel go crazy. His member in your mouth kept throbbing against the roof of your mouth. Suddenly, your pace went a little faster; you looked up and noticed Joel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands were in tight fists, his knuckles threatening to pop out from his hand. The taste of salt fell upon your tongue as you backed your head up from Joel’s cock. A line of spit mixed with precum connecting from your mouth to the tip of Joel’s cock was made apparent, eventually dropping onto the ground below you as you wrapped your hand around Joel’s cock and started pumping his shaft.

The moans escaping Joel’s lips were music to your ears as your moans were to Joel. “Fuck, baby. Y’so good at that. Those boys are so fuckin’ stupid.” His southern drawl causes summersaults in your stomach. Sliding your mouth back onto Joel’s cock, a deep moan escapes his lips as your lips were at a quick pace, your hands planted on Joel’s thighs, the hair on his thighs pressed up against your hand as the tip of Joel’s cock kept hitting the back of your throat.

Moans, grunts, whines, and whimpers were all escaping from Joel’s lips, his hands holding onto your head as his hips humped into your head, his cock pressing deeper – causing you to gag a couple of times. Your nose kept poking into where Joel’s pubic hair rested; the scent was intoxicating, causing your cock to leak with precum below you.

Suddenly, Joel held your head – your throat grasping around his cock, causing you to gag more. Slobber escaping your mouth as with each inhale through your nose – resting on Joel’s hairy patch made it impossible to exhale without gagging. Your palms were getting sweaty against Joel’s meaty thighs, the hair on his legs feeling nonexistent against your slippery hands.

His hands slide your head back, and lines of spit connect from his cock to your top and bottom lips. Deep inhales and exhales leave your body as you watch Joel slightly shudder. His cock glistened in your spit, throbbing. Sweat littered Joel’s hairy chest and forehead; you swallowed the spit in the back of your throat from your excessive breathing. Your forehead felt heavy with sweat as you looked up at Joel; he slid his hand up his forehead, pushing the curls that had stuck to his forehead. “Fuck, sorry, baby. Y’mouth is so fuckin’ addictin’.”

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, Joel,” You spoke, disregarding his apology. Quickly eager to show Joel what you meant, you pick up his cock and slide your tongue on the underside of Joel’s shaft. Lapping your tongue against his veins, you could hear Joel praise you from above. “So fuckin’ perfect, who wouldn’t want to treat you right?”

Bringing your tongue slowly down to make Joel squirm, you feel his body Joel a little bit as you are still holding his cock in your hand; you place your mouth around his ball sack and lightly suck on one of them. “OH, FUCK!” Joel groaned. Joel’s body felt like jelly – incapable of holding himself up; Joel hadn’t felt this level of pleasure before, from anything he’s ever fucked before. “You like that, baby?” You asked. “Yes,” Joel gritted his teeth. “God, I love it s’much.” Backing your mouth up, you stroke Joel’s cock and watch Joel hold his head back and moans escaping his lips. Bending down, Joel places his hands between the fold of your armpits and picks you up from your knees.

Planting his lips against yours, the kiss you shared between the two of you felt hungry, Lips mashing against each other, teeth clashing against each other. Joel’s arms holding you tightly against his torso. Joel was fucking starving for you as his lips were latching against your cheeks, jawline, against the skin of your neck. That feeling of Joel’s teeth against your neck made you know Joel was marking you as his. Your nails drag against Joel’s soft curls as you enjoy Joel’s mouth, bringing his head up back against your lips. Sweat from Joel’s chest was seeping through your shirt. You wanted to take it off to feel Joel’s skin against yours. Backing your head away from Joel’s, his head following suit as he watches you attempt to take your shirt off.

Holding the hem of your shirt, Joel helps you slide your shirt off your head, wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck, him wrapping his arms against your lower back. The warmth of each other’s bodies radiated against each other. Your cocks rubbed against each other; the warmth you both shared was hot enough to blow the roof off your bedroom. This experience felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Backing his head away from your lips, you notice a look of dominance in Joel’s eyes, which darken as he opens his mouth to speak. “Get on that bed, so I can fuck you the way you, a good boy like you should be fucked.”

“But, what if I’ve been a bad boy?” You tease.

Leaning his head toward your ear. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”

“Get on that fuckin’ bed,” Joel commanded. You listened to Joel, letting your arms go from around his neck, your knees bent on the bed, as you pushed yourself to land your head where your pillow rested, your back collided with the soft cloud-like material. You watched Joel climb on the bed, stopping as he was positioned right between your legs. “Put your leg on my shoulder.”

Compiling to what Joel commanded, your ankle rested on Joel’s broad shoulder. A line of spit leaves Joel’s mouth and connects to the tip of his cock, rubbing the spit to lube up his cock. Slowly leaning over you, one next to your head, fingers spread apart. Joel moves his hand from the tip to his shaft as he starts to tease you – making you shudder in anticipation.

Moving his cock to poke your hole makes you yearn for him every slight push into you. Hisses escaped your gritted teeth as you craved to feel good. “Joel, can you please fuck me?”

“Nuh uh, bad boys don’t get to beg,” Joel grinned.

Joel had let go of his length and placed his other hand next to the other side of your head. His hips were grinding into you, making you gasp and make your spine chill. Joel’s cock kept rubbing up against your sensitive tip, making you physically shudder and making your cock feel like it was about to burst. “I can tell how much you love this. M’cock grinding up against yours before I get you pregnant.” Your breath hitched as Joel’s voice made you want him more – you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before.

“Joel, please. I need you.”

“How bad do you need me, sweetheart?” Joel growled into your ear.

“So fuckin’ much, it's unbearable.”

“Well then, are you going to be my good boy?’

Nodding your head, you shut your eyes and licked your lips in anticipation. You notice that your ankle comes off Joel’s shoulder and collides with the mattress. You feel his lips press against yours briefly as you open your eyes and see Joel’s brown orbs looking into yours before he opens his mouth to speak. “Well, I can’t keep my good boy waitin’.” Looking in between your bodies, Joel adjusts his cock; you feel it press into you for a split second. He looks back up to you, “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I am,” You answer.

Joel slowly pushes in, and you feel the tip agonizingly stretch you out. Your moans rattle the walls next to you both. “Does it hurt, baby?” You shake your head, denying Joel’s question. His shaft is halfway in before he pulls out fast. You gasp before breathing heavily. “Damn, baby. Y’so fuckin’ tight,” Joel commented. Once again, Joel slides his cock into you, making your moans more intense than before. Halfway in, Joel rocks his hips back and forth slowly into you. Your eyes snapped shut intensely, straining your eyelids. The pain was starting to feel good, too good.

“Is this okay, baby?”

Opening your eyes, you notice the concern in Joel’s eyes. He looked so sweet, caring, and compassionate; you’ve always seen him like that growing up. “Yes, Joel. It’s okay,” You smile. Leaning down to kiss you, Joel’s hips still rocking into your hole, moans exiting your mouth and entering Joel’s. Feeling Joel slowly stretch you out felt indescribable; it felt good, but you did want Joel to go faster. “Joel,” You moan against Joel’s mouth. “Yes, baby?”

Joel backs up to hear you properly. Before you could get a word out to Joel, one push further in, and you feel the base of Joel’s cock clap into you, which echoes throughout the room. Joel realizes what this means; a sly grin appears on Joel’s lips. “Hold that thought, doll,” Joel commanded.

His pace was faster and rougher. Claps rang throughout the room with each thrust, like an audience applauding at the end of a play. Your hands gripped the sheets or ran your hand down Joel’s back while Joel had his hand on the headboard. It felt like Joel had read your mind at that moment, knowing that you wanted more and that he would give it to you. “I can tell y’wanted this before you even said it, baby. Could hear ya screamin’ at me to fuck you harder.’

“Y’wanted this, didn’t ya?” Joel grunted.

“God, yes, Joel. I’ve wanted something like this for so long, begging for it. This feels fucking amazing.”

“I’can say the same about this boy pussy of yours, grippin’ onto me so tight, it doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t think I want it to.” You bring your hands up to Joel’s back and dig your nails into his sleek skin; an exhale leaves Joel’s mouth as the pain settles in, but it subsides.

“Mark me, baby. Make me yours.”

Your nails drag down Joel’s back until you reach the small of Joel’s back. Joel bows his head, grabs your chin, and smashes his lips against yours, but his thrusts stop. You don’t feel anything warm inside you, so you know he didn’t cum. Wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel lifts you for a second so you can get up from the sheets below you. Noticing Joel starts to lay himself down, you quickly move your hands on the mattress to keep yourself from crashing into Joel. You still feel Joel’s cock inside you as his hips start to lift up and down.

That time when you complained about only being in one position with a guy, Joel did hear you and was giving you something you wanted.

“Sorry for the sudden stop, wanted to fuck you more.”

Backing your head up, you watched as Joel bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his arms tight around your lower back. Your nails dug into the soft material under your sweaty palms; you could feel the fibers begin to tear a bit. “You like this, don’t ya, baby? Being fucked like the sluts I’ve seen you watch on your phone.”

“Craving to be them, wanting someone to fuck you till you can’t feel your legs no more, huh?”

“Yes.” You whined.

“Wantin’ someone as strong and big as those guys you watch to be able to fill your sweet, tight, boy pussy with hot cum.”

Nodding your head. “Mhmm.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m gonna satisfy your needs, your aches, your cravings for you to be filled with cum. If anyone else tries. I’ll gladly show them who can treat you better and fuck you in front of them, understood, baby.”

“Mhmm.”

Joel’s hand connects with your ass, a hard smack against it; a cry leaves your mouth. “I need a fuckin’ yes, boy.”

“Yes, Joel, yes.” You whined.

You felt something move from inside you. You see, Joel looks to wear your cock, but he’s looking in between you both. “You feel my cock twitchin’ inside you, doll? You want me to cum inside you?” “Yes,” You quickly answer and nod. “You’re leakin’ all over my stomach, baby; you wanna cum too?”

You whimper out an answer. “Then, I better give my boy what he wants.”

Joel slides his cock out of you and lays you on your stomach as he comes up from behind you and slowly teases you. You feel his cock glide between the bends of your ass cheeks, feelings his balls press into them. “Damn, your ass is achin’ f’me right now. I will give you what you deserve, boy.”

That feeling of being stretched out came back as you rested your forehead on the bed. Joel’s hands dug into your skin; each push of his length made your moans push out of you more. It was like your body was in heat — Joel’s heat. He was an animal in heat when it came to you. Nodding your head, you felt Joel’s hand on your throat and his lips against your ear — his mustache tickling it. “I’m so –thrust– close to – cummin’ inside this tight ass of yours, baby. Do you want my cum to swim inside you?”

“Yes, Joel. I fuckin’ do.”

“Then let me give you what you deserve.” Backing his head up, Joel dug into your skin like he was kneading dough; his thrusts were rough, almost splitting you in half. You could feel his cock throb inside you as you felt your shaft pulsating. You knew you were about to cum. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, baby. I don’t wanna stop after I cum in you.” “Joel, I’m so close. Keep going.”

“Fuck,” Joel growled. “I love it when you beg like that.”

His pace was going faster, and it felt the tip of your cock felt like it was going to explode with your cum. “Fuck, Joel. I’m gonna cum.”

“Fuck, baby. Me too.’

“Here it comes,” Joel gritted his teeth.

With one final push, you feel your cum shoot out onto the sheets below you, and you also feel Joel’s cum swim inside you. Light breaths are escaping both of you as you feel Joel slide his cock out of you; a squelching sound is heard as Joel’s cock finally dislodges from your hole. A sigh of relief exits Joel’s mouth as he connects his back to the bed. Turning your neck, you see Joel — soft cock against his stomach as you see his chest dip and rise from the breaths he’s taking.

Picking yourself up from your position, you lay down next to Joel, your head resting on his sweaty, hairy chest. Joel’s arm wraps around you as he pulls you closer to him.

“So, was that everything you’ve ever wanted?” Joel questioned.

Nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, and better than what I could imagine.”

Joel chuckles at your statement, and you join him. Once the laughter dies down, a realization hits him like a bag of bricks. “Y’know, for a moment, I forgot that you’re running off to college without me. Followin’ those dreams and gettin’ your degree.”

“Joel,” You start.

“Havin’ a life, a career, findin’ someone who will love you as much as I do.”

“Joel,” You repeat.

“Havin’ kids of your own, playin’ with their own action figures or dolls, and I’ll be at the bottom of some —”

“JOEL.”

Joel jumped at your sudden outburst; he was looking at you instead of the ceiling. He saw you staring at him; he felt frightened but safe simultaneously. You suddenly straddle his lap, his hands on your waist, molding his hands onto you. “You’re coming with me to college.”

“W-what?” Joel smiled. “When did you come to that decision?”

“When you gave the most beautiful profession of love when I was on your lap, it made me realize something.” Joel awaited your realization, but he couldn’t lie; you sitting naked on his lap like that, faces inches away from each other, he was starting to get horny again. “I know you can never be real, but that’s okay; it sucks that we won’t grow old together, but you’ll always be there for me, and if I do meet someone, you’ll always be the first person I’ve ever loved, Joel.”

A smile appeared on Joel’s face; you couldn’t tell if sweat or a tear was falling from Joel’s eye when he quickly rolled you on your back and was inches away from you. His smell was intoxicating; the sweat mixed with lust made your cock twitch like crazy. “You’re such a softie, y’know that?” Joel quoted.

“Only for you, sweetheart,” You quoted.

“Now, how do you feel about one more round?” Joel questioned.

“Well, everyone will be out for a while.”

“Should I take my time?”

“Joel, fuckin’ show me a good time.”

“Okay, my good boy, lemme show you a good time,” Joel states, kissing your lips. Feeling the love from Joel’s kisses, you realize you didn’t need anyone to love you as much as Joel did, and you were fine with that. You didn’t care that he wasn’t real; he felt he was real to you, and that’s all you need.

501 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 8 months

Text

Edible Flowers {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Mentions of brothels and sex work, use of the word 'whore', general bad attitude, threats of violence, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation, SEX POLLEN, uncontrollable lust, rough sex, unprotected sex, dub-con due to sex pollen.

Comments: After losing his coins and unable to join the others in your party at the brothel, Pero decides to bathe with you in the local river. Both of you unaware that the flowers that line the banks of the river will make your blood sing with lust.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!!! I don't know where I would be without your friendship, Charlie. I love our conversations and our crazy thots. I hope you have the BEST day! 🎁🎊💝 I think it a tradition at this point that your birthday fic be sex pollen 😂

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You ignore the grumbled curses from the foul smelling man next to you. Angrily searching bags and shoving them off to the side. Rolling your eyes at his odious manner, his stench and his overall unpleasant demeanor. It wasn’t your fault that you two were the only ones left at camp. He had no coins to spend, having squandered them on the last village by getting drunk and misplacing them. You were still here with the horses because you had no interest in visiting the brothel.

“You should just go.” You huff, smirking in amusement at the thought. “Perhaps they will tumble you just because of your charming demeanor.”

“Quit talking before I decide to test how sharp my blade is.” Pero Tovar hisses angrily, his dark eyes narrowed in frustration and unhappiness at being left behind. No one, not even that bastard William, would lend him the coin to get his dick wet. After nearly two weeks of hard riding and no privacy to pleasure himself, he wants a release that is in a tight, warm cunt. Not the palm of his axe calloused hand.

“I’d remove your balls before you ever touched my tongue.” You snort, reminding him of your own quick use of a blade. The last man who had tested you had his body stripped and left for the buzzards when he had thought to try to force his will on you. You like to think the other men you rode with walked a little more carefully around you after that.

He grunts, unwilling or unable to come back with another retort and starts to dig through his bags once again. Searching in vain for the pouch of coins that would apparently get him away from you.

Your own search of your bags is much more organized, searching for the precious sliver of soap you still had and a clean set of clothes. The river is just past the little copse of trees and you have plans for a long soak and a good scrub in the cool, clean waters. It’s been a dusty, dirty road and you want to feel clean again. Or at least, not as filthy.

Finding the soap, you take it out and sigh softly, inhaling the scene of the flowers that had been pressed into it. It’s your last little cake that you had made, representing the last piece of yourself that you had left behind when you had started on this journey. Leaving home and traveling with this brash, rough, uncouth bunch of mercenaries.

They had decided that having a woman among them was a good thing. You were better for distractions, getting tavern owners to allow you to bunk under their roofs, sometimes using your ‘feminine wiles’ to get jobs when necessary. Tovar had been the only one to keep his distance and his surly attitude around you.

“Fuck.” The curse is accompanied by the saddle bag being thrown across the camp clearing, making you bite back a grin at the Spaniard’s ire. Pissed that he should have to stay back and not partake in the drinking and whoring.

“There it is.” You snatch your clean bandage out of the bag and tie it closed. “Perhaps you can mend your armor.” You offer, standing with your change of clothes and your soap. Your money pouch is with you, not trusting him to keep his fingers out of your coins to go off and have his pleasure. “I would not even suggest a bath. I know you have no use for such a thing.” You smirk, enjoying the darkness of his scowl and the muttered curses under his breath as he glares at you.

“Where are you going?” He demands, motioning towards the camp. “We need to start a fire.”

“I am going to bathe, you can start the fire.” You tell him, watching him shake his head. “No. You stay and help.” He spits. “I am not sitting by and doing all the chores.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I have made the fire every night for nearly two weeks.” You remind him. “I am not the camp whore. You want a fire? Start it.”

“Puta.” You glare at him when he calls you a bitch, but you don’t say anything, knowing it won’t do any good. Pero is not a man who claims to have manners. You’ve seen him fight with the locals over perceived insults or slights. Manners is not something that would ever cross his mind when it comes to his own actions.

Instead of spending time arguing with him, you simply walk out of the clearing with your things and make your way through the trees down to the edge of the river.

Pero growls again, glaring at your back as you walk away from him. Unsure why the fuck he lets you talk to him like that. Irritated that he had been left back, that his money was gone and he was unable to go find release in a hot cunt for a few coins.

Letting out a sigh, he rolls his head back, rubbing his shoulder and catching a whiff of himself. The acrid, sweaty scent of unwashed man makes him grimace and he hates to admit that you are right. He could do with a bath himself and cleaning his leathers. Sighing when he realizes that despite his best efforts, he would be doing what you wanted him to do.

It takes him a few moments before he smirks. You are down at the river. Naked. Washing. He grunts and despite himself, his cock twitches at the thought of seeing your body and stroking himself from the safety of the trees. Or perhaps he will outrage you by just diving into the water himself. He huffs a chuckle, imagining your glare and curses as you try to keep your eyes off him. You grumble and curse when any of the men pull their dick out to take a piss, you would hate it if he stripped down to the bare skin of his ass.

He lingers another moment, weighing his choices and blows out a huffed breath. Ambling slowly over to the bag he had thrown across the clearing towards the horses when he had been cursing his luck. Groaning slightly as he bends down to pick it up, he can’t help but think that a bath and a solid night of sleep might be better than a rowdy night in a brothel, drinking and whoring.

The waters are slow in this bend of the river, making it a good place to swim and wash. Maybe even catch some fresh fish if there is any. The village is nearly a quarter of a league away, the men preferring to keep their horses and belongings well away from the towns until they are ready to leave. Too many places would seek to steal from the mercenaries, as foolish as that might be.

It’s isolated here, no sign that anyone from the village ventures this way. Lucky for you, because the flowers blooming on the bank are sweet smelling and look edible, although you haven’t seen that variety before. There had been some rabbits eating them before you had scared them off. If you had your bow, you might have been having rabbit for dinner.

Now, you slowly peel off the clothes that are caked in dirt, sweat and blood. Groaning slightly when you start feeling light begins to give your muscles relief. Your breast band digs into your skin and you eagerly begin to unknot it so you can unwind it from your chest.

When it’s completely unwound, you groan again, reaching up and massaging your sore tits. Nipples aching as you slowly palm them. The feeling is incredible and it makes you close your eyes, missing the slight movement in the treeline to your left.

Pero’s eyes widen when he sees your tits. You’ve never even taken a piss in front of the men, preferring to go off behind a rock or some trees when the group has stopped. Now he’s unsure if the dark thatch of hair that covers your cunt is what is drawing his eyes or your hands roaming over your breasts like you are pleasuring yourself. The way you are groaning has his cock hardening like he is watching a show that some of the whores would use to make men pay more coin in the brothels. His mouth waters and he reaches for the laces of his breeches, eager to pull his cock out and stroke it until he spills on the ground.

Until he sees you turn around and carefully make your way into the water. Your ass swaying invitingly as you wade into the water and he watches you dunk your head under the water. It looks too refreshing to pass up and he wants to join you. He does need to wash.

The water is perfect, cool and clean, making your nipples harden even more and you lean back to float on the water for a moment. Relaxing and sighing at the way you already feel better, feel cleaner just by dunking yourself in the river. Once you scrub your clothes and body with the soap, you will feel positively luxurious. The only thing that could possibly feel even better would be to sink into a feather mattress to sleep.

The water surrounding you muffles the sounds from on shore. Your eyes closed keeping you from seeing the other mercenary strip down to his skin and start to wade into the water. His eyes on you as he manages to cover his already hard cock with water to his chest before you notice the movement beside you.

When your eyes open, they are wide, wrenched open from the slight shift of the water around you. Finding the dark eyes of the Spaniard fixed on you, making you shoot up, your feet slipping for a moment before finding your footing on the rocks and burying your body up to your neck in the water.

“What the hell are you doing!?” You shout, thankful that his own body is halfway underwater. You don’t know if you wanted to see how well endowed the man is. It wouldn’t help things and you are already trying to tear your gaze away from the muscle and scars that adorn his chest. Evidence from previous battles that show how he has survived. Your hands cover your breasts under the water and you quickly move away from him.

“Bathing.” Pero hisses back, rolling his eyes at you and smirking. Your mouth had dropped open like a fish and he enjoys the shock. Even if he had wanted to cum before he entered the water, he likes that you are surprised by his presence. “What are you doing?”

The fact that he plucks your soap off the nearby rock and starts to lather up his hands with it should make you take it back, but you find yourself just staring. Watching as he doesn’t move towards you, just sets the soap down and does exactly what he said he was doing. Bathing. His hands sliding over his skin and soaping himself up generously. Scrubbing the soap into his shorn off beard and into his hair. He had apparently hacked it off before coming into the water.

“I didn’t mean bathe with me.” You hiss, still submerged in the water. “How long have you been watching me?”

Pero smirks and arches his eyebrow at you. “You mean did I see where you like touching your tits?” He asks. “I did. You should unbind them more.”

Cursing under your breath, you huff and shoot him a killing glare. “Keep your eyes off my tits.” You mutter, but that only makes the Spaniard chuckle as he continues to scrub his body clean.

“Every woman has tits, yours aren’t special.” He lies knowing that he had been hard as a rock as he looked at them. Thought about sucking on them. You don’t know that, and his hard cock is under the water, out of sight.

Snorting angrily at his insult, you snatch the soap off the rock where he had returned it so you can bathe. Your relaxation is ruined by his presence and the last thing you want is to give him any more of an eyeful. He can stay here and you will leave.

Washing quickly, you scrub your clothes, painfully aware of his presence as he splashes and curses behind you. Trying to ignore him while you wring your clothes out and lay them on the stones to dry. Hating that you would have to expose yourself again to get out of the river and dress.

“I’m not looking.” Pero taunts, fully aware that he is watching you struggle to make a decision. The glimpses of your breasts and ass as you work have kept him hard and his hand squeezes his cock under the water.

Not looking back at him, you roll your eyes and stand up, walking out of the water to your pile of clean clothes. Rushing to put on your shirt, you don’t bother with a breast band, happy that the longer, larger shirt covers your ass as you wiggle into your breeches. “You may want to wash again.” You snort, turning to look at him still in the water. “I can still smell you.”

His eyes narrow and his mouth spits out another curse, but when you disappear into the trees to go back to the horses, Pero lifts his arm and sniffs. Wondering if you can smell him still, although all he can smell is the pretty soap you had. He grumbles to himself and starts to wash his own clothes.

****

By the time Pero returns, clothes damp and squeaky clean, you’ve started the fire and have cleaned out your bag that you use to gather berries. “The flowers next to the river are edible.” You tell him. “I’m going to get some. If you want to eat, come with me.” Already annoyed he hadn’t started a fire before bothering you, the last thing you are going to do is feed him.

You don’t want to see what he will say, just turning and stomping back to the water’s edge. In hindsight, perhaps you should have given him the coin to go with the other men. If only to keep him from annoying you. Finding his presence far more distracting than normal, when William is around to keep him occupied.

You ignore his grumbled curses as he follows you. Your stomach starts to growl and you know that there are plenty of the tender flowers to eat now and then save for later if you can gather enough. You’ve learned that despite the number of men in your party, foraging for food was often more successful for hunting. A few of the men were incapable of hunting silently without scaring off all the small game.

The small, pink flowers are pretty. The red pollen in the middle is eye-catching and you find yourself wondering why there are so many of them blooming at once despite watching numerous creatures feast on the tender buds. Reaching out, you pluck one flower from the stem and pop it into your mouth. Groaning quietly at the almost honey-like taste of it. Immediately picking another one to eat.

There are hundreds of them. Quickly starting to pick them in earnest. One for the bag, one for you to eat. Groaning everytime you let the flavor of the flower burst on your tongue. The taller Spaniard moves to the bush next to you and does the same, his own mouth shoved full of the edible flowers. Eating them as fast as he can. They are almost addictive.

It’s gradual. The way your body warms up and starts to tingle. Your skin is suddenly more sensitive than it normally is by the breeze coming off the water. Making gooseflesh rise and you shiver slightly.

Tovar grunts beside you, shifting and clearing his throat. Making you think that he had just swallowed wrong since he eats like an animal. Continuing to pick and eat the flowers until you feel like your stomach is going to burst from the local vegetation.

It’s only then that you realize how warm you are. Pulling your shirt away from your neck and humming quietly. Needing to almost take off your shirt as your nipples harden underneath the fabric. “Ohhhh.” You bite your lip and turn away from the bushes as you realize that you are feeling a certain kind of way.

You’re turned on. Stumbling back towards camp, you can feel the arousal starting pool between your thighs and you feel your cunt bottom out at the grunts of the man following you. “What the fuck is going on?” You choke out, dropping the bag onto the ground as you wrap your hands around your stomach.

Tovar nearly stumbles to his knees behind you, his cock harder than it has ever been in his life and he swears he need to pull his cock out and fuck his fist. “I- it burns.” He rasps, squeezing his eyes closed and ignores the soft whimpering sounds that are coming from you. Trying to suck in enough air to calm his racing blood.

“I don’t-” You moan again, making the mercenary to your left growl as you rush over to your saddle bags. “It- what is happening?” All you know is that you need to touch yourself. The need to find release building up like an infection under your skin. Your clit throbbing with every pounding beat of your heart. “I don’t fucking know.” Pero spits, dropping to his knees and his palm presses against his cock with a moan. “I need to cum.” He growls.

The raspy, rough sound of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you feel your entire body light up at the thought of a thick, hard cock inside your aching cunt. Your broken whimper nearly a gasp. So close to giving in and begging Pero Tovar to touch you.

“Give me your coins.” Your eyes fly open at his demand, finding him dragging himself to his feet and lurching towards you like a drunkard. Eyes pitch black with need and lust as he comes closer.

“What?” You shake your head. “No. You are- you aren’t fucking a whore with my coins.” You hiss, making the man moan when you curse.

You don’t understand how desperate he is. Fumbling with his belt he tosses it away and reaches for the laces of his breeches. “I am begging you, hermosa.” He groans. “I need- fuck, I need to bury myself in a cunt.”

It’s your turn to moan, watching in surprise as the grumpy, harsh, uncouth man in front of you starts to unlace his breeches to pull his cock out. “This is- this is madness.” You whine, your own fingers starting to unlace your own pants. The thought of him fucking you is now buried in your head and it’s all you can think of. Him fucking you until the pain and need fade.

“Give me-” Pero chokes out another moan when his fingers wrap around his cock to pull it free. Unable to stop from stroking it aggressively, even though his palm is dry. “Please.” He begs, knowing that the need is overriding his good sense.

You never thought you would ever hear Pero Tovar beg for anything. Not even death when he was staring it down. Now he is begging for release and your own body reacts visceral to that plea. Your own breeches unlaced when you look up to see his cock in his hand as he pumps it furiously. Eyes closed and mouth opened on a moan as he tries to slack his lust. Your cunt gushes, bottoming out at the sight and you are pushing your breeches down in a rush as you try to kick off your boots at the same time. “Fuck me.” You demand, voice breaking as you stand on bedroll.

He’s dreaming. He’s in the middle of a fantasy because he swears he hears you beg him to fuck you. Knowing that would never happen, he opens his eyes and chokes out a sound when he sees you pulling your shirt over your head and standing naked in front of him. “Her-”

“Fuck me.” You beg again, dropping down to the blankets and spreading your legs. “I need it. I feel like I’m going to burn alive if you don’t fuck me.” Your arousal is coating your thighs and dripping down onto the rough blankets. Fingers already between your thighs to start rubbing your clit. Giving into your own body’s desires.

“Mother of God.” Pero curses, rushing forward and dropping to his knees between your thighs. Hand still wrapped around his cock and pumping it as he notches himself at your cunt. There’s no time to be gentle. Merely snapping his hips forward and burying his cock into with hot walls of your cunt with the loudest groan he’s ever made.

Air is pushed from your lung, giving you no time to think, to scream, as his thick length breaks you apart as he pushes inside you. Splitting you in two is an almost painful pleasure that has your nails digging into his arms and your body bucking under his. Needing more, you sob in relief when he feels the same way and starts to move immediately.

Your cunt is hot, tight around his cock. Making him grit his teeth together and bunch the blankets in his fists so he doesn’t leave bruises under your skin as he holds onto you. His hips slam forward, a rough little growl tearing out of his throat every time he reburies his length inside you.

Moaning, your nails start to rake down his back. At first it’s over the shirt he is still wearing as he fucks into you. His pants at his knees, still dressed while you are completely naked underneath him. Then your hands slide under his shirt, needing to feel his hot skin as you moan again. His cock hits deep, every thrust filling you perfectly.

Hissing, Pero grunts out a curse. “Shit.” He bites his lip and his next thrust is even rougher, pushing you up the blanket slightly. Your legs squeeze around his hips and you lift your body up to let him pound you back into the ground.

It’s overwhelming and still not enough. Every time his cock scrapes against your walls, it makes your body light up in pleasure, the pain and heat subsiding for a brief moment. Making you crave more every time the sensation comes back.

Your nails dig into his back but he doesn’t even pay attention. Too focused on the hot clutch of your cunt and how every time he rocks into you, those walls squeeze him like a vice. Groaning out curses in every language he knows, Pero feels like his entire body is being heated from the inside. “I- I’m gonna cum.” He chokes out, knowing that he won’t last more than a few thrusts.

You are right there with him, your body bowing and arching with every stroke of his cock deep within you. Pushing you closer to the edge and your eyes squeeze shut. “P-Pero-ooooo” Your back arches up, cunt locking down on his cock as your scream of pleasure rings out in the trees, making the horses startle and stamp.

Once you tighten around him, Pero is gone. Groaning out your name as he rocks forward one more time, staying just as deep as he can possibly get, relief and pleasure mixing together as he paints your walls with his seed.

You pant, trying to catch your breath even though the pain is still there, just beneath the surface. Able to relax for just a moment as your eyes close. Listening to Pero grunt as he works himself through his own pleasure and collapses on top of you.

“I-” he groans as he twitches. “Let me get my breath and I will fuck you again.” He promises, knowing that if he is still hard, you must also be feeling the effects of whatever has possessed the two of you.

“You better, Tovar.” You moan, squeezing him again as you bear down on him. Grinning when he curses again. “Mierda.”

“What the fuck is causing this?” He asks breathlessly.

“I don’t know.” You admit. “Maybe it’s- maybe it’s the flowers.”

He snorts, doubting that but he doesn’t argue with you. Knowing that whatever it is, it will have to work itself out of your system. At least this is more pleasurable than bad stew.

“More Pero.” You beg softly, starting to move under him again as the heat begins to build again in your core. His cock is still hard and you need that feeling again.

“Greedy.” He chuckles, looking down at you with dark eyes and for the first time he leans in to press his lips to yours, kissing you as he slowly starts to rock into you again.

Gasping in surprise, you cling to him, kissing him back as you stare up at him as you kiss. Wondering why his lips are so much softer than they had looked and his kiss is much gentler than you had expected. Not that you had expected him to kiss you at all.

Now that the first, brightest pain has passed, he can afford to be tender. To take a moment to make sure that there is more than just raw power in his thrusts. “I’ll give you more.” He promises. “I’ll give you everything you need, hermosa.”

****

The fire burns low, feet shuffling in the grass as men crowd around the sleeping pair on the ground. None of them believe that the Spaniard is wrapped around you, both of you obviously naked under the blankets. Your clothes are scattered on the ground around you.

“Do you think he fucked her?” The whispered question reaches William as he smirks down at his friend. Resisting the urge to poke him with his boot and wake the man from the obviously deep sleep.

“What do you think?” William turns his head and looks back at the other men.

“I think if you wake her, I will cut your tongues out.” Pero doesn’t even open his eyes as he growls his threat to the other men. Tugging you closer when you shift in your sleep until you relax against him. Your breathing evening out and slowing down again as you settle back into your dreamless sleep. Worn out from the multiple rounds you and Pero had the night before while the pollen from those flowers worked out of your bodies.

William grins, motioning for the others to quietly back away. “We’ll let them sleep a little longer.” He hums quietly. “Let's go down to the river and wash up.”

Pero grunts, knowing that he should warn them, but he’s not going to. The bastards left him here and he had to find out the hard way to stay away from the flowers. They could learn their own lessons. Smirking to himself as he presses his face into the back of your neck and inhales the scent of you. Maybe losing his coins wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he would warn William.

“Amigo…..”

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar the great wall #tovar #tovar x reader #tovar x you #tovar x f!reader #tovar smut #tovar imagine #tovar fanfiction #tovar the great wall

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xoxoamyas · 6 months

Text

``abandoned ghosthunt ,,

rating : fluff/comfort, pet names used on reader [ baby and love ], one [ 1 ] suggestive comment, a couple murder mentions

ghost hunter!wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/your, no use of y/n ]

☆ . wilbur and you find yourselves in an abandoned place searching for ghosts. the time is mostly spent bantering together rather than actually hunting. <3

note : i'm not super proud of the ending, but i hit roadblock after roadblock with this one and wanted it to end on a decent note. i love the concept and may make a different/more clear version later.

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

“Wil, I don't think we should be doing this.” Nervousness slips into your tone as you look at the abandoned building. One of those fancy, expensive looking cameras Wilbur had bought earlier in the day in hand at a slight angle recording in night vision mode already.

“Relax, it'll be fine.” He's got a smile on his face as he finishes setting himself up with equipment. A flashlight hangs from his belt, some batteries in his pocket, a spirit box in one hand, and he's reaching for an EMF to top himself off.

Ghost hunting, the one thing you hated to do, but your oh-so fascinated boyfriend loves to do.

“Let me reiterate, I'm worried we're not going to walk out of this place.” You give him a frown, to which his expression softens before me moves in. One arm wrapping around your waist while he leans down to press a kiss to your nose, catching you off guard. The action was a pleasant one, at least.

“We'll be fine, I promise. We told most of our friends that we were going to be here, remember? Not only that, but the owner of the land knows, too, he was the one to give me the gate key.” He's trying to soothe any unwelcome thoughts or feelings you may have, pressing another kiss to your cheek this time.

“I know, Wil, but you saw some of the fencing. People have definitely broken in here before. What if someone just- chop chop and takes one of us away or something?” You make a slight up and down motion with your fist, awkwardly trying to get the point of a potential stabbing across. Wilbur just lightly chuckles and shakes his head. It nearly feels like he isn't taking you as seriously as he should be.

“Baby, if anything happens, you run. Don't worry about me, worry about yourself.” You deadpan at him because that wasn't what you asked.

“Why can't we just be a normal couple that makes out in the backseat of the car.” You complain, lightly swatting him away with your free hand. But not before leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Maybe later. We might be able to do more than fool around, too, if you're in the mood.” He sends you a wink, resulting in you pretending to gag at him, just rolling your eyes as a smile finally breaks out on your face.

“Maybe, it depends on if we get axe murdered.” Now it's his turn to frown, watching you turn away to fidget more with the camera's settings.

Wilbur moves, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head with a gentle squeeze to your shoulder. Quickly shutting your jeep's door and moving ahead, glancing back at you as you stood there. Choosing to get a video capture of him walking towards the building, making him smile, and shake his head before motioning for you to follow. You jog after him, having taken a second to watch him with a more fond look than before.

“So,” you start as he unlocks the door and opens it for you both. “What’s tonight’s plan?” You pan the camera to him as he walks through the fresh hold. Practically holding your breath as you walk into the abandoned building.

“I was thinking we should stick to the first floor for now and then head down to the basement maybe an hour before we planned to leave?” Wilbur suggests, slowly walking through the dusty foyer, pausing to look at a messed up poster hanging over a piano before cautiously walking through. You make sure to get a steady view of some of the stuff you both pass by, making you lag behind Wilbur a bit.

Eventually, you both found the main living room. It was just as dusty and unlived in for what seemed like years, if not decades. It was gross, but not unnatural for a place so heavily abandoned.

“So, you got any info on this place's history, nerd?” You comment almost teasingly, panning the camera over to Wilbur as he's turning on the EMF and setting it down on the coffee table. It would've been a pretty wooden one, and under any other circumstances, you would've brought it home. But you didn't want an attachment to you after the last time you had one.

“Well, yes and no.” Wilbur is taking his time to fidget with the spirit box, trying to get it to work. Smiling when he manages to finally get it turned on. He sets it down on the table right alongside the EMF with a tiny space between the two. Decidedly sitting down on the couch despite how torn, old, and dusty it was. You can't help but laugh as he coughs and waves a hand at the air when the particles of dust track up around him.

“Dusty little boy.” You tease, cracking a grin as you pan the camera around Wilbur before turning it to the spirit box and EMF. Setting the camera down on the table so that it would have both the devices and you two on the frame, you choose to sit down on the ground in front of the coffee table, avoiding kicking up more dust.

“I can't believe you'd insult me, my own lover.” Wilbur dramatically throws his head back with a false cry, pressing the back of his wrist to his forehead in a moment of dramatics.

“C'mone, you and I both know you're just a lil dirty crime boy.” You joke, taking your turn to laugh at what he's doing as you lightly smack his knee closest to you.

“You're just so mean to me, I'm wounded.” He fake cries, placing his other hand over his chest before breaking into laughter and finally settling down. “Okay, okay. You asked about history, love?” Wilbur grins a bit, obviously happy to talk and answer any questions on it.

The spirit box is still going, but nothing has come through. It's the same with the EMF, even as Wilbur reaches for it to hold in one hand.

Wilbur promptly went into detail about the place. It was a home built in the 16th century and abandoned later in the 18th century. A few murders have taken place through the house over time. It was pretty standard stuff after, similar to past places you've investigated together. A slower pace of things with history that intertwined into little stories passed on about the families that used to inhabit it.

“So then the dude that owns the place got it from a family friend? No questions asked?” You raised a brow, even more curious as Wilbur nodded.

“Yeah, he said he didn't know much when he bought it, but then he spent quite a while in the public library where they keep the public files for most of the abandoned buildings.” Wilbur nods before clearing his throat. Moving just slightly to stand up, walking to the opposite side of the coffee table and sitting across from you now.

“Sometimes I wonder how big your brain is to recall all that knowledge.” The comment just makes Wilbur smirk, resting the EMF on the coffee table.

“Why thank you, love, my brain cells love working together when it comes to history.” He sounds almost cocky. You just jokingly scoff and roll your eyes.

“So your secret skill is that you're a nerd?” He gives a wounded sound in response, like you just beat his ego to a pulp.

“You're so cruel to me.” He fakes a sob before laughing with a smile, shaking his head a bit.

“Shut up. Your ego is as big as your forehead.” You jokingly bite back, finally starting to relax as you both continued with your usual bickering.

“You leave my forehead out of this,” Wilbur pouts, resting his chin in the palm of one of his hands.

“Anyways,” you laugh as he rolls his eyes. “Let's get this over with, please.”

You both go through the motions of the night after, continuing to joke with one another occasionally. Taking your time in each room that didn't feel like it would cave in on either of you.

“You think for a place so abandoned it'd be more active.” Wilbur frowns at your words, panning the camera over to you since he decided to take his turn with it earlier on.

You both had decided to finally head down to the basement after a while of nothing. You were more focused on some random shelf of nick-nacks. Throughout the entire time you hadn't gotten much, a few EMF readings, some random walking sounds when you aren't moving, but nothing much more than that. You had moved down to the basement to finish up earlier than expected because of it.

“Well, isn't it a good thing if it's not that active?” Wilbur purses his lips, looking at some items hanging on the walls. Gardening tools lined along it, each one mostly rusted over.

“Maybe for my anxiety, but not for your content.” You hummed, picking up a random nick-nack from the shelf to curiously examine it. Putting it back right after with a sigh. “Can we please just get out of here?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to look at him.

Wilbur slightly frowns at your question. “We have at least another hour?” He doesn't seem to want to go just yet. Receiving a groan of distaste from you because of it.

“Wil,” You huff, to which he says your name in response. “I don't want to be here any longer. Can we please go? I'll get you McDonalds?” You decide to go low and bargain.

“How dare you try to use McDonalds against me.” Wilbur gives an offended sound, placing a hand over his chest where his heart was.

“Wil, please?” You give an exasperated sound, clearly ready to be done with the place as you start to walk towards the basement staircase regardless.

“Okay, Okay. But I want chicken nuggets and a burger.” Wilbur huffs, quick to follow after you.

“You can have both! Let's just get out of here already.”

“Woo! I'm comin'- we're going!”

#amyas writes #x reader #fluff #wilbur fluff #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n

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vilentia · 6 months

Text

Healing Melodies - Part 2

Eddie Munson x reader

part 1 | part 2

****

Dustin had always been known for his larger-than-life reactions to, well, pretty much everything. So, when he stumbled upon the truth about you and Eddie, his response was nothing short of a spectacle.

It happened on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun was high, casting a warm glow over Hawkins, and the air was filled with the distant sound of lawnmowers and children's laughter. You and Eddie were in his trailer, a record spinning softly in the background as you both poured over an intricate map for your next D&D campaign.

The door burst open, and in charged Dustin, wielding a walkie-talkie like a sword and a look of determination plastered across his face. He stopped short, the words dying on his lips as he took in the scene before him—Eddie's arm casually draped over your shoulder, both of you so engrossed in your shared world that you hadn't heard him enter.

"Dude! What the—?" Dustin's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Is this a new campaign strategy session, or am I interrupting the 'All My Children' hour?"

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Calm down, Dusty. We were just—"

"Just what? Planning the ultimate betrayal of dungeon master trust?" Dustin interrupted, faux outrage coloring his tone. But the sparkle in his eyes betrayed his enjoyment of the melodrama.

You laughed, shaking your head at Dustin's antics. "We're not betraying anyone, Dustin. Eddie's just been helping me understand the finer points of necromancy. Right, Eddie?"

Eddie nodded, playing along. "Yeah, just some good old necromancy. Nothing to see here."

Dustin squinted suspiciously, taking a step forward. "Necromancy, huh? That's what we're calling it these days?" His gaze flicked between the two of you, a smirk beginning to form. "Wait a second... Are you guys... Are you guys a thing now?"

The air was suddenly thick with anticipation, the question hanging between you all. Eddie's hand squeezed your shoulder, a silent signal of unity.

"Come on, spill it!" Dustin urged, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Eddie sighed dramatically, feigning resignation. "Alright, alright. Yes, Dustin. We're a thing."

Dustin's reaction was instant and explosive—a mix of shock, joy, and the kind of theatrical disbelief that only he could muster. "I knew it! I mean, I didn't know-know it, but I knew something was up!" He threw his hands in the air, circling the room. "This is huge! This is like, Return of the Jedi epic! My cousin and Eddie Munson? This is going to change the party dynamics forever!"

As Dustin continued to pace around the room, his initial shock transforming into an almost comical level of excitement, you and Eddie exchanged amused glances. Dustin, true to form, was already spinning scenarios in his head, his imagination running wild.

"This is like, the best character development ever!" Dustin exclaimed, his hands animatedly sketching out scenes in the air. "You guys are like, the unexpected alliance in a fantasy novel. The bard and the warrior princess, joining forces against the darkness!"

Eddie raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on his face. "Warrior princess, huh? I like the sound of that for [Your Name]. Fits perfectly."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Only if you're the bard who serenades me with metal ballads and slays monsters with his guitar axe."

Dustin clapped his hands together, his excitement reaching new heights. "Yes! That's exactly it! We'll have to update the Hellfire Club's campaign. This is going to be legendary!"

He began to pace again, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "Imagine the quests! The battles! The drama! This will be the best campaign ever. We’ll need a new storyline, new villains, maybe even a love triangle to spice things up."

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. "Easy there, Spielberg. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're just figuring this out as we go."

But Dustin was undeterred, his enthusiasm undimmed. "You guys have no idea how epic this is going to be. I'm going to need to brainstorm some ideas, maybe get some input from the others. This is going to be a total game-changer for the Hellfire Club!"

As Dustin continued to chatter excitedly, outlining elaborate plot twists and character arcs, you leaned against Eddie, feeling his arm wrap around you. There was a comfort in this moment—the joy of a new relationship, the amusement of Dustin's over-the-top reaction, and the sense of belonging in this strange, wonderful world of Hawkins.

Eddie leaned down, whispering in your ear, "You ready for all this?"

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and nodded. "As long as it's with you, I'm ready for anything."

And in that small trailer, filled with the laughter of friends and the dreams of adventures yet to come, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Eddie, together, could face it all.

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sixhours · 2 months

Text

Chapter 23 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Hey folks, this is a dark one. CW: Suicide attempt. Please take care of yourselves.

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

As the weather closes in, any good faith you might have built up with Joel is lost, and he stalks around the little farmhouse in a broody stupor. You get the impression he would live at the bottom of a deep bottle of bourbon if given the opportunity.

Hell, you’d like to join him.

He drags two dusty mattresses down from the second floor and puts them around the potbelly stove, then goes foraging in the basement. There’s a small stash of homemade canned goods that still have tight seals; the rest of your food will have to come from outside. He clears a path off the back of the kitchen to the forest, where the thick tree cover has prevented the snow from drifting, presumably so he can hunt and cut firewood.

He shoulders his rifle and goes out to the barn to look around, mutters something about finding an ax, and you watch from the kitchen window as he wades through waist-deep drifts. He returns with the ax, as well as a hacksaw, a box of candles, and a pair of snowshoes in need of repair.

The only silver lining in this situation is the chance to rest your broken ankle. You decide you need to reset the bone if you want any chance of keeping your foot. Easing out of your wrap, you tenderly prod at the swollen flesh, trying to get a sense of where the bones have shifted and where they need to go. It’s hard to feel anything, your fingers are numb with cold.

When Joel comes in with a load of small branches for firewood, you look up at him from your mattress on the floor.

“I need your help. And your belt.”

He grunts, setting the wood down at the door. “Why?”

“I need you to pull on my foot so I can reset the bone.”

You show him how to wrap the belt tight around the top of your foot, trying to ignore the roiling unease in your stomach. This is going to hurt.

“You’re going to pull as hard as you can,” you say, handing him the loose end of the strap. “Don’t stop until I say so, even if I scream.”

He grimaces. “Alright.”

“On three, ready? One…two…three.”

The pain is blinding as Joel leans back, straightening your foot, like a hot knife cutting through you, and you struggle to stay conscious.

“Hey…hey!” Joel’s worried voice, calling you back.

“I’m here,” you spit, speaking through gritted your teeth. “Oh holy mother of fuck that fuckin’ hurts.”

You lean forward blindly, putting your fingers around the ankle, prodding through the hot white pain. But you feel it, the edge of the bone at the top of the joint as it slides back into place with the right pressure.

“Stop,” you grunt, and he eases his grip on the strap, letting your foot down as gently as he can.

“The splints,” you grind out, gesturing to two scraps of wood you’ve set aside. “One on each side. Wrap ‘em tight.”

He does, securing your foot as you lay back, heaving and shaking. It hurts worse than when you broke it, but the bones no longer feel wrong .

Joel is watching you with thinly veiled concern as if he’s fighting a battle within himself to stay aloof. His fingers flex and clench at his sides.

“Gonna rest now,” you mumble, exhausted, flopping back on the mattress and feeling the deep, angry throb of your heartbeat in your foot. You close your eyes and wait until you hear Joel leave.

~*~

You settle into the tedious routine of survival. Find food, stay warm, sleep, repeat. Most of the work falls to Joel since you’re forced to stay off your feet until your ankle heals, but that’s probably for the best. The two of you circle each other like wary dogs, rarely exchanging more than the bare necessity of words.

Joel repairs the snowshoes with some twine he finds in the barn and goes off to set snares and hunt, returning with a doe that he dresses and strings up outside the kitchen, muttering about rigging up some kind of drying area in the basement.

You’re never truly warm, dressed in layers that never feel quite clean. Joel finds an old feed tub half buried in the backyard and drags it inside so you can clean yourselves in the rusty, lukewarm water and scrub the most visible grime off your clothes. He ducks outside when it’s your turn to bathe, standing stoic and hunched in the cold until you’re dressed.

Eventually, you’re able to put the tiniest amount of weight on your bad ankle. You still need the crutch, but you’re able to get yourself off the floor and maneuver around the farmhouse without Joel’s help–not that you’ve asked for it.

He has taken to carving when he’s not doing the manual labor of keeping you both alive. He brings in sticks and chunks of wood, stripping the bark with his knife and digging into it, smoothing it, hissing softly at every splinter and nick.

The isolation sinks into your bones during these short winter days, eating you from the inside. There’s nothing but time–time to lay on your mattress and listen to Joel’s stony silence and the angry thwick of his knife against the wood, time to think about everything that’s happened, to think about what you’ll do when you leave the farmhouse. No matter how many times you try to imagine it, you can’t see that future. You walk up to the gates of Jackson and the dream dissolves in a flood of shame.

Joel leaves the maps spread across the kitchen table and pores over them, retracing the routes you will eventually follow to get back to Jackson, as though he can see his daughter’s face in the winding roads.

~*~

On the shortest day of the year, you open the kitchen door and stand in the cold, aided by your crutch. Joel is off checking the snares; you can see his bootprints leading down the path away from the house. It snowed again last night, fat white flakes that only serve to remind you how trapped you are.

You tuck your fingers into your jacket pocket, fingering a crumpled ball of paper nestled deep in the seams. Frowning, you pull it out, unfolding it.

Don’t get your hopes up. –JM

You blink, the tears surprising you with their fury.

But you did, didn’t you?

The note conjures images of a puny orange on the near-empty shelf of your fridge and the feel of the countertop under your back as he pushed into you. It’s the smell of bacon on a Sunday morning, playing Boggle on the living room floor. You remember when his hand at your back meant love and reverence. Even if the words never made it into the open air, you knew that warmth.

And you never deserved any of it…but oh, how you’d wanted to. You’d wanted to believe you could have that much.

Now you live in a purgatory of your own making–with him, but not; together and never more alone, with the home you’d found on the verge of being lost forever.

This is your fault. You lied, you led him on, and worst of all, you lied to yourself. You let hope grow in poisoned soil and now the tree bears poisoned fruit.

But the note– the stupid note –is the thing that breaks you. It flutters to the floor as you crumple onto the wet ground, grateful Joel is away so he won’t hear your sobs. You cry until you feel drained, empty, like the husk of a tattered cocoon. You’re no longer here; you’re somewhere back in Utah in a jail cell with FEDRA, you’re curled in the back seat of a broken-down car with your face pressed to the mildewed upholstery, you’re waiting for a death that doesn’t come.

When he returns, you’re lying on your mattress, facing away from the door, away from him. You hear him stoke the fire and put the cast-iron pan down, the sizzle of fresh venison being tossed in. The smell of cooking meat makes your stomach turn. You pretend to be asleep when he tells you there’s food.

~*~

You don’t move from your bed the next morning. You’re vaguely aware of Joel’s pacing the kitchen floor, and once you feel him kneel beside you, the warmth of his body closer than ever in the cold room, but you won’t allow yourself to feel it.

His hand finds your shoulder, shaking you. “Hey.”

You close your eyes and burrow deeper into the safety of your blanket. He stands up after a time, and you hear the door close, the crunch of snow under his boots outside. Sleep drags you under with murky claws, promising blissful indifference.

His footprints on the floor bring you back. The light in the room has gone soft and golden, the glow of a winter afternoon. If you stay here, in this very spot, you won’t be able to do more harm.

“You awake? I made food.”

You don’t answer. You have a distant memory of playing a game with your father as a young child, hiding behind the sofa. If you can’t see me, I can’t see you.

“Hey,” his voice, closer to your back. “You need to eat. We’ll be on the road in six, eight weeks. Can’t have you fallin’ all over the place.”

“Not hungry,” you mumble, pulling the blanket over your head, eliciting a frustrated grunt from over your shoulder.

“C’mon, it’s not funny. Get up.”

His hand pulls the blanket back, exposing you, and you gasp at the sudden influx of cold air. “Get up.”

“I’m not–”

“Get the fuck up,” he growls. “Not gonna have you starvin’ on my watch.”

One strong hand comes up under your arm and hauls you into a sitting position. He unceremoniously drops a plate in your lap and takes a seat in a chair across from you. He leans forward, glaring at you until you take a piece of the venison and put it in your mouth. Only when you’re chewing the tough, grisly meat does he pick up a fork and take a bite of his own.

You don’t taste the food, barely able to choke down your meager portion. The meat lands in your stomach like a stone, and for a few minutes, you’re convinced you’re going to vomit. You close your eyes, swaying, willing the nausea away.

“I told you to leave me.” The words are so quiet, barely a whisper, but you know he hears them. There’s the clink of his fork on his plate, a sharp intake of breath.

“Don’t.”

You look at him from under your lashes, feeling heavy, numb. The throb in your ankle is nothing compared to this ache, this terrible pain that you can’t give voice to; you don’t deserve that measure of relief. You turn over and curl up on the bed, shivering but not feeling the cold.

At some point, you wake. There’s a soft blanket draped over you, and you can feel Joel, still sitting in the chair at the foot of your bed. You recognize the quilt as the one he’d brought stargazing.

Was that really just a year ago?

In the dim light, you can make out a stain on the fabric; it smells like coffee, and an icy grip cinches tight around your gut. This time, you do throw up, leaning over just in time to avoid soiling the mattress.

He’s at your back again, hand on your shoulder, holding your hair.

“Shoulda told me you were sick,” he mutters.

You shake your head, retching until you taste bile. You want to tell him that you’re not sick, that this is just penance, your fair due. He stands. You hear him put the kettle on the stove, adding wood to the fire, digging through his pack for something.

Eventually, he kneels next to you with a mug of warm water. You take it, sip at it, trying and failing to rid your mouth of the awful taste of your insides. He hands you a rag and you wipe your mouth, then he uses it to cover up the mess you’ve made.

He’s sitting next to you on the floor when you turn over. Now the ache in your stomach is a physical one. He pulls the quilt back over your shoulders and you shut your eyes tight. You can’t look at him, can’t look at his face when he’s being kind. You flinch away from his touch when his hand grazes the hair at your temple.

Please stop , you think. Please just stop .

And he does. When you open your eyes after a long stretch of silence, he’s sleeping on the floor facing you, head pillowed on one arm, his hand resting next to yours on the mattress.

~*~

The fire has died by the time you wake again. The air outside the quilt is icy, but you are surprisingly warm. You open your eyes to Joel’s body curled around yours; at some point, while you were sleeping he crawled under the blanket, onto your mattress.

Your first instinct is to push him away, as though your touch is a poison that can be absorbed through the skin. But in your weak attempt to do so, your hands land on his chest and stay there, rousing him from sleep. He blinks once, twice, sleepily taking you in. Then his nose brushes yours and your lips are touching, he’s kissing you, rolling over you, pinning you against the bed.

You jerk your head to one side when you feel that vicious tenderness rising within you, push it down the way you push his head down to your neck, your clavicle. He bites the skin, sucking you in, hard enough to leave a mark.

When he tries to kiss you again, you reach down between you to take him roughly in your hand through his jeans. He groans, grinds out your name against your neck, and a spark of bitter hope blooms inside you.

You know this way.

He’s rough one moment and tender the next, bruising your hips and soothing your wounds, as if he can’t decide whether to make love to you or fuck you until you bleed. He’s too quiet, and you miss the ringing of his filthy mouth in your ears.

You yank down his jeans and pull out his cock, stroking him until he’s thrusting shamelessly into your palm. You run the tip of your thumb over the head, slippery with precum, and roll him back onto the mattress, moving down his torso. He groans when you take him into your mouth.

“Fuuuck.”

There he is.

You take him in as far as you can, swirling your tongue and lapping at the sensitive flesh under the head of his cock until he’s panting, hips rolling under you, fists in your hair.

“M’ not gonna last,” he gasps, pulling you up to him, sitting up to hold you. The position is too familiar, too close. When his hand reaches up to stroke your cheek, you guide it to your throat, pressing on his fingers to tighten his grip. You work the buttons of your jeans and slide them down your hips as his tongue traces the shell of your ear.

When he leans up to kiss you the third time, you roll off him, arching your back and lifting your ass. There’s a pause in which all you can hear is your mingled heavy breathing, as you wait to see if he’ll take the hint.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, hating the way your voice sounds, watery and frail.

You feel his hand on your hip, almost tentative, and then the mattress shifts behind you. He enters you at an angle that used to be his favorite, in one full thrust. It hurts, and you want it to hurt more. You shove back into him, taking him in before you’re fully ready, feeling the tiny tears as you stretch, the blunt force of him at your cervix. He answers with a hoarse cry, one hand gripping your ass while the other slides up your back. You arch back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

You’re so wrapped up in the sensation of being filled, of being used, you don’t notice when one hand moves around to your front and slides between your legs…finding you dry.

He stills, breathing hard.

“You–you’re not–”

Suddenly he wrenches out of you and you’re pitifully empty and exposed, cold air replacing the heat of his body like a fire doused with ice water. Your hips are dropped onto the mattress and he’s stumbling toward the door, pulling up his jeans. You watch numbly as his fist makes contact with the wall, leaving a blood-smeared imprint in the plaster.

“Fuck!”

You hear him pulling on his boots, shouldering his rifle, the door slamming behind him.

Tears sting your eyes. You claw at your jeans to cover yourself, drawn into a ball on the mattress, feeling that icy grip on your stomach. You couldn’t even do this, this one simple thing, and it hurts, it hurts so fucking much.

~*~

He stays out all day, not returning until the sun kisses the horizon. You’re sitting in a chair, half asleep when you hear him outside the back door. You can still feel him inside you, the throbbing ache where he’d penetrated you, but that problem feels distant like it’s happening to someone else.

Joel drops his day’s kill–two rabbits–outside the door. He doesn’t talk to you as he dresses them over the stoop at the back of the house, cutting the bodies from stem to stern, carving out the insides, cutting off chunks of meat, and tossing them into a bowl.

You unfold yourself from the chair and put the cast iron on the stove, tossing a new log on the fire. It’s too fresh, still half frozen, and it smolders, sending smoky plumes into the air.

You cook the gamy, chewy meat with a can of baked beans from the cellar pantry; they’re cloyingly sweet, the meat dry but somehow oily at the same time. You don’t taste it, barely notice the textures on your tongue. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat.

You can still smell him on you when you go to bed, when he blows out the candle and you’re cast in darkness with only the glow of the stove between you.

~*~

You wait until you hear his breathing deepen in the familiar way it does. For a few minutes, you allow yourself to close your eyes and listen, holding this moment alongside all the others like it.

You creep out of bed and slip on your boots and jacket, foregoing your crutch; you can put enough weight on your foot now to make it to the woods. You ease the kitchen door shut behind you, wincing at the soft snick as it latches, holding, waiting to make sure he doesn’t stir.

You make the slow, stumbling trek across the packed snow path that leads to the woods behind the house. Moonlight creates deep shadows under the trees. You’re unaware you’re trembling until you look down and see your hands, shaking, backlit by the moonlit white canvas. There’s wetness on your cheeks, but you don’t feel it.

When you can’t walk any further, you ease yourself down against the trunk of a tree. You pull the gun out of your pocket, surprised at the weight of it. You’re mesmerized by the glint of the reflected light on the dark metal. You feel yourself bringing it up to your mouth, almost involuntarily, and for a moment you wonder if maybe you’ve been infected all this time; if this is how it feels to lose control.

The barrel is cold at the top of your mouth and you hold it there, still trembling, thinking of the parts of the brain the bullet will penetrate as it moves through you. You find yourself reciting the bones and soft tissues, reducing your body to a list of parts and systems.

Your eyes find the stars; your finger finds the trigger.

It will be fast. It will be painless.

You swallow and taste metal, waiting for your finger to apply just the right pressure, waiting for your body to respond, to finally soothe the ache you’ve felt since you left Jackson. When it doesn’t happen, you jerk the gun away from you, breathing hard.

You’re such a fucking coward.

You imagine your name echoing over the landscape, calling you back to a world you don’t deserve to live in.

I can’t go back. I can’t–

You’re not imagining it.

He’s standing there in the icy halo of his breath, saying your name.

“Give…give me the gun.”

He approaches you slowly, never taking his eyes off the gun, watching it like it was a rabid animal with teeth and claws.

“Please, baby…”

“I can’t,” you whisper, shaking. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he says. He’s almost to you now, he’s kneeling, crawling to you. “Please…just…give it to me.”

You watch, detached, as his hand covers yours, covers the gun. His eyes meet yours and you can see the unshed tears, feel his hand trembling against yours.

“Please,” he whispers.

Your fingers slowly release their grip, letting him take the handgun. There’s a sharp intake of breath as the cold metal leaves your hand, as he fumbles at the switch and unloads the cartridge into his palm. Some last store of strength inside you collapses when he reaches out to take your hand and you fold in on yourself, letting the darkness drag you under.

Joel pulls you to him, rocking back, until he’s sitting on the icy ground and you’re cradled in his lap like a child. His hand cups the back of your head and you can hear his heart thrumming at the pulse point in his throat, hear the rasp of breath in his lungs, feel the shaking in his hands. He’s whispering words into the crown of your hair, words like no , and please , and sorry , but you don’t hear them.

You aren’t here anymore.

~*~

You don’t remember walking back to the house, but you’re sitting in front of the fire, wrapped in a blanket with Joel holding your face in his hands. He’s talking but you can’t make out the words. Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth but you want to tell him to stop, to let you go.

He pushes a mug into your hands, his fingers wrapping yours around it. In the candlelight, you see the wet tracks down his cheeks, feel the heat of the stove at your back. The heat softens you, melts you like wax, and suddenly you are so fatigued you can barely hold your head up.

Then you’re in a bed–Joel’s bed–wrapped in his bedroll and a quilt and he’s holding you like you might float away. You want to tell him that he’s crushing you, but your eyes won’t stay open long enough for your mouth to form the words.

~*~

The first thing you notice is the heat. After weeks of fighting off the cold, you’re finally warm. You realize you’re practically swaddled, anchored by Joel’s arm around your waist. You open your eyes to him.

It comes back to you in pieces; the moonlight, the stars, the gunmetal taste at the back of your throat. He watches you with red-rimmed eyes. You understand, without asking, that he’s stayed awake like this all night.

His hand comes up to trace the skin at your temple. At this moment, you don’t know if you hate him or love him. There’s still an icy hopelessness twisting at your insides that no fire or body heat can touch.

“I found the note.”

You blink, furrowing your brow. You hadn’t left a note…had you?

Then he shows you the crumpled ball of paper clutched in his palm, the one you’d tossed on the ground.

Oh. That note.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, grip tightening around you. “I’m so damn sorry I made you think there wasn’t anything left.”

You try to shake your head, but it’s a slow, painful effort, and your eyes close against your will, sinking back into his warmth.

~*~

He doesn’t leave your side for days. Even when the firewood is almost gone, even when the food supply is dwindling, he stays in the kitchen, whittling away at wood scraps, keenly attuned to your every breath, every twitch, every sigh. At night, he locks you in his arms like they’re a straightjacket and watches you sleep.

By the fourth day, he’s swaying on his feet from the exhaustion of keeping vigil. More than that, he’s driving you fucking crazy–as if you weren’t crazy enough.

“Christ,” you whisper, watching as his head dips forward and snaps back up for the third time in as many minutes. “Take a fucking nap, Miller. I’m not gonna off myself.”

He glares at you, the expression only serving to make him more tired as his eyes flutter shut without his consent.

“Shit,” he mumbles, shaking himself awake again.

You groan. “Go to bed. I’ll be here when you wake up. Alive.”

You don’t tell him that you don’t have the energy to kill yourself even if you still want to. He must sense it, though, because he stands, sways, and stumbles into bed. He’s asleep before his head hits the mattress.

Joel sleeps for hours, and you let your mind go blank, folded in your chair with your bad foot propped up, staring at the curling flames in the stove’s belly. Sometimes you can still feel the gun in your hand; you close your eyes and see the winter snow pierced by stars at the back of your eyelids. It feels like standing on a precipice and leaning forward. You feel hot tears slipping down your cheeks.

When the dark thoughts come, circling like vultures over carrion, you slide out of the chair and insert yourself into his arms, tucking your head under his chin and breathing him in. He doesn’t wake, but his grip on you tightens, cementing you to him with a sigh and a muffled snore.

#fanfic #fic recs #the last of us hbo #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel and ellie #ellie williams

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rat-typewriter · 1 year

Note

Yay!!! Someone's writing for Arven!!! Could you please write something, either Headcanons or a fanfic your choice, about Arven with a librarian s/o who helps him find information on Herba Mystica and the titan pokemon. So lots of study dates in the school library where she works that slowly turn into actual dates 👀

As someone working at a library rn, this one is pretty self indulgent lol but I hope you don't mind! Thanks so much, I hope you have a great day!! (I also lowkey wonder if you remember me since I've left asks here before...)

Omg omg hello fellow librarian!! I used to work in a library! Tysm for your request sunshine, and i hope you enjoy!! This is a little rushed so im sorry about that :,,)

Perfect to me - Arven x Student Librarian!Reader

Warnings: None

Proofread: like,,,, some of it is

Summary: Mabosstiff is doing a lot better - you're the first person Arven wants to tell

You tried to turn up your music for the seventh time - forgetting it was already at full volume. Your phone buzzed angrily, a notification popping up - trying to warn you of the damage you were doing to your ears.

You were more-or-less all alone in the library; anyone who had come in this late was frantically studying at the desks, so you were free to shelve books and dance awkwardly.

You skimmed the spines of the books and hummed quietly to yourself. The song reminded you of Arven - it felt like sunshine and long, green grasses with a warm breeze. You smiled at the thought of him; even his name gave you butterflies - you couldn’t quite believe you'd been dating three months.

You first met when he was always asking for obscure books and journal articles - and without having to do too much detective-work you figured out that he was searching for the titan's herbs. You mentioned it one night - after a few weeks of him coming in almost every day - and he let you meet Mabostiff. You'd never seen such a sick Pokémon, but you found yourself with a certain respect for the somewhat-harsh boy who sat in front of you, stroking its nose gently. After then, you always stayed past the end of your shifts - scouring the shelves for any clues to help Arven and Mabostiff.

You found the section you were looking for and slid a book from your trolley onto the shelf. Straightening up, you were about to reach for the next book - but, through the shelf, you came face-to-face with Arven.

You leapt out of your skin, ripping your headphones out in the process.

Arven grinned and laughed; wide-eyed you scolded him.

"Oh my god, Arven." You said, as you rounded the shelf - moving to face him. "How long have you been there?"

"Not too long." He smiled - his smile was so contagious you found yourself struggling to maintain your annoyed expression.

"Well, don't scare me like that!" You replied, trying to suppress your giggle. Being around Arven made you go stupid (in the best way possible, of course). It was addictive - hell, he was addictive - you never failed to have fun, even when poring over fifty year-old books and digging through the dusty archives.

"Okay, okay - I'm sorry." He replied - not looking even the least bit sorry.

"You should be." You said, folding your arms with mock disappointment. "Libraries are no places for fun."

"Of course, it won't happen again Miss L/N." He said - his tone's solemness matching your own.

For a moment you stared at each other seriously - before you both erupted into giggles.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, I really like him.

Before you'd even caught your breath again, he grabbed your hand and tugged it.

"C'mon, there's something you gotta see."

Had Arven been any other boy - you probably would have assumed that they were about to take you down some dark corridor and axe-murder you. But when you looked at him and he softly smiled back at you - you trusted him completely.

He led you out of the library and down the stairs - to one of the fire exit doors in a back corridor.

He held it open for you and you stepped outside into the dark car park. The cold March air ruffled your hair and you shivered; you heard Arven close the door and then stand beside you. In the dim light of the flickery fire-exit sign you could only just make out his features. He stood close to you - his arm brushing your own - but he didn’t seem to mind; neither did you.

He grinned and pulled a Poké ball out of his pocket.

He didn’t mean?

“Arven?” you said, excitement rising in your voice. “He’s better?”

He grabbed your hand and nodded frantically, somehow smiling even wider than before. He tossed the ball, freeing Mabosstiff - who, for the first time whilst you’d known him, stood in front of you. Arven, who was still smiling wildly (and seemed unable to speak) looked between the two of you, his eyes suddenly full of tears

You laughed, dropping to your knees and putting your hand out for the Pokémon to sniff. Mabostiff nosed your fingers and let out a low ruff.

"Hey, buddy." You said, quietly - finding yourself fighting back tears as well. "Good to see you up and about,"

Mabostiff nuzzled against your leg and you giggled - wiping your eyes. Arven, who was looking just as teary-eyed as you, crouched down, levelling with you and Mabosstiff.

"I can't believe you did it," You whispered, stroking the Pokémon's ears.

"Me neither." Arven said. The closeness of his voice surprised you a little. You turned to face him, finding that his face was only a few centimetres from your own. Fireworks were going off inside your brain as you stared at his dark eyes.

He's gorgeous, you thought. I've never noticed how pretty he is.

Your words caught in your throat and you found yourself unable to form a sensible reply. He held your gaze; his mouth slightly agape.

"Hey," You whispered, giggling slightly.

"Hi," He laughed back.

His smile was radiant, even in the darkness. You were so close you could practically feel the heat from his body. He glanced at your lips, so quickly you were almost convinced it didn't happen - but it was there.

He spoke slowly. "Can I, uh, ask you something?"

You glanced at his lips.

"Sure,"

"Would you mind if - uh - could I-" He stammered, his growing more red by the second.

You laughed quietly and he did too - easing your nerves a bit.

You met his big, dark eyes and knew you were too far gone. So, with only a moment's hesitation, you leant in.

Your heart felt as though it was going to rattle out of your chest, but the feeling of his lips against your own left you floating. His hand moved to your face and you steadied yourself against his knee.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god-

After a moment, you pulled apart - bumping noses as both laughed breathily.

"Wow," You whispered.

"Yeah." He laughed.

You leant back, moving from your crouched position to sit on the concrete instead - your head slightly spinning. Mabosstiff looked between you, letting out a low ruff. Arven grinned, ruffling the fur on its head.

"Were you watching us?" He said, narrowing his eyes at the Pokémon. "Cheeky."

You laughed and Arven turned to look at you. Your heart skipped a beat and your mind was empty.

He likes me.

"So," You turned away, looking out into the darkness. "You like me?"

"Well, yeah."

You turned back to face him, his expression barely visible in the dim light, but you could still see the redness that suddenly appeared.

"Well, uh - I mean, why wouldn't I like you?"

You snorted. "I could name a few reasons."

For a moment he was quiet, staring at you - clearly thinking hard.

"Nope." He said.

"What?"

"I can't name any."

You laughed and he nudged your shoulder.

"You're perfect to me."

You could feel the blood rushing into your face as you leaned into his side - tucking your head beneath his chin. You both sat quietly until Mabosstiff flopped down across both of your laps - Arven letting out an oof as it did so.

"You're heavy, buddy." He said to the dog. "Not a puppy anymore, eh?"

"They grow up so fast." You said, wiping a fake tear.

Arven mock-sniffled. "My baby is all grown up!"

Suddenly, you blurted out his name. "Arven?"

He turned to you. "Yeah?"

"You're perfect to me too."

#arven #pokemon arven #pokemone violet arven #pokemon scarlet arven #pokemon scarlet and violet #scarlet and violet #scarlet arven x reader #violet arven x reader #arven x reader #pokemon arven x reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv #sv arven #scarlet and violet x reader

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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 year

Text

All we have; Thor x sister reader

*Author’s note*

So this fic took me some time but after a while I finally came up with how to come about this. To the anon who sent this all the way back close to the beginning of the year hope this story finds you and thank you for being so patient.

Warnings: ANGST!!! Events of infinity war, main character (death)? Reader was blipped, depression, denial. Sad Thor basically.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@austynparksandpizza

________________________________________________________

*Thor’s POV*

Failure. A feeling I never once felt before up until now. Even when I was banished by my father and lost my hammer, it was nothing compared to now. My father, my home, nearly half of my people, my brother, and now—now my sister.

And only two of those things weren’t taken by the same person. When Thanos came for us after Asgard was destroyed by Sutar in order to defeat Hela, we could only manage to send half of the people down to Earth before we were attacked, but even with those people safe the rest could not. Heimdell was one of my dear friends to die first after he used the last bit of strength to send Banner to warn the Avengers of Thanos.

My sister and I did our best but with him already in possession of the Power Stone, he had us badly outmatched and out strengthened. Then he had Loki killed right before our eyes, the two of us helpless and could only watch as he snapped his neck. For a brief moment I thought we were dead when our ship was destroyed but then we came across the Morons. Led by a rabbit and his tree companion.

After getting Storm breaker forged for myself and my sister even obtaining a newly gifted gauntlets to harness her power of Starlight. Next to me, I would say she’s the strongest Avenger (even though she never wanted to be one). Her being the Goddess of the Stars, she is basically a star in human form with enhanced strength, speed, can fire star beams from her eyes and star bolts from her hands. That’s why some people on Earth called her ‘Star bolt’ or something along those lines.

Together we came to Earth with the rabbit and tree and we were on the verge of victory until Thanos arrived. I had him, as did my little sister. She fired with all her might as soon as he had completed the gauntlet and retrieved the last of the Infinity stones. Then I used Storm-breaker to impale Thanos before he could do the snap. I had shoved the blade of my newly forged axe into his chest, as deep as it could go and had the Mad Titan on his knees.

His final words were that I should’ve gone for the head, then he lifted the gauntlet and snapped his fingers as a bright light flashed before my eyes. I had demanded him that he tell me what he had done when I saw the gauntlet burnt to a crisp, but the coward fled through a portal. Next thing I knew, people were disappearing into dust.

“Brother?” I heard my sister say and when I turned to her I saw her clutching her stomach. “I—I don’t feel so good.” I soon took notice of the same dusty flakes coming off of her.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no hey. Hey (Y/n) come here, come here little sister.” I held her together burying my face into her neck. “You’re right here. You’re right here with me, yes? Just like the old days, the two of us together. We’re okay, we’ll be okay.” She smiled solemnly as tears glistened in her eyes.

“Goodbye brother.” She whispered.

“No, no there’s no goodbyes not for us. Please my little starlight, stay with me. I-I can’t lose you too!” but soon she faded away and all that was left was dust in my hands.

All of that happened just 4 weeks ago. The week before, we found Thanos and hoped we’d use the stones to bring everyone back only to find out that he used them to destroy them.

Not wanting to hear anymore, I did what I should’ve done at that very day I lost everything. I went for the head.

After that, I couldn’t take it. Numbness and emptiness overtook me. What was life on Earth without my only family left? She was my little sister, she was my best friend, my guiding star. From the day she was born, I made an oath to always watch out for her.

I had promised mother and father that I’d never let anything happen to her. Before Loki came along, it was just the two of us. We got into the worst sort of trouble, but she was always there to get us out of it using her charm and wit. Thinking back now, that’s probably how Loki learned to be the silver tongue he came to be.

But now they were both gone. Leaving me as the last of Odin’s children.

*Present day 4 weeks after Blip*

The humans were calling it The Blip. After half of the universe had been snapped away, that’s what they called this tragic event. Their governments and politicians trying to get the records of everyone around the world who had been blipped, trying to rebuild, but there was nothing I could do to help them.

“Hey Thor.” Banner’s voice spoke up. I didn’t respond. “I managed to locate Valkyrie and Korg. They said they’ve settled all the remaining Asgardians in a small town in Norway called Tønsberg.” I remained sitting in my chair looking out the window. “Look buddy, I know that—things hadn’t been easy. But don’t you think your people need you? Or at least let them know you’re okay?”

“And what do I tell them? Hmm? Can you-can you answer me that Banner? When I go there the first thing they’ll ask me is where is…..” I stopped and brushed away the tears from my eyes. No scratch that, not tears I just have something in my eye.

“I get it. I miss her too man. Your sister was—someone really special. Remember she helped me after I found out that I had been the Hulk for two years.”

“I helped too you know.”

“Yeah but not as much as she did.” I shook my head softly chuckling.

“Yeah she—she always did like helping those who needed it. The stars seemed to have dimmed without her here.” There was silence before I finally stood up and turned to Banner. “Thank you for finding them for me Bruce.”

“You gonna be okay pal?” he asked me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. I’ll be sure to keep in touch about how things are going.” I gave him a firm pat on the back before I took Storm breaker into my hands and flew off towards Norway.

When I got there, New Asgard was a small little town on the edge of some fishing docks where I saw the remaining few of my people all trying to rebuild our new home. When they saw me, they bowed their heads but I didn’t acknowledge them.

“Hey Thor you’re alive!” up ahead I saw Korg, Meek and Valkyrie gathering up some kegs of beer. I walked up to them and hugged Korg (even though there was no emotion to said hug).

“Where’s (Y/n)?” asked Valkyrie. I breathed heavily and asked her redirecting the question.

“How many of our people are left after the Statesman was attacked?” she looked at me skeptically but answered.

“We were just about to land our rescue ship when suddenly half of those that were saved turned to dust.” So even when half of the people managed to escape, they too were cut in half and Blipped away. My sister’s escape plan for our people was in vain.

“Right well, you two continue doing what you were doing. I’m just going to uhh—” I took one of the kegs from Korg and walked off without another word.

I managed to find me a small cabin that hadn’t been claimed by anyone and decided that this would be my cabin from now on. It was the furthest cabin than the rest of the village so thankfully no one should suddenly burst in on me.

I set the keg down before plopping myself down on the floor next to it. I looked down at my wrist to see the old bracelet (Y/n) had made for me back when we were kids. I took it off my right wrist and examined it.

It wasn’t much just made from the finest Asgardian thread and the jewels were of pure diamonds, rubies and a couple of emeralds. In fact it was a sibling bracelet that she had made for all three of us. The ruby represented me, the emeralds were of Loki and she was the diamond.

I clenched it in my hand and raised it up ready to throw it as far as I could, hoping that it would be lost forever but something held me back. My arm trembled before I brought the bracelet to my chest and held it over my heart as I felt tears falling down my face.

“I’m sorry (Y/n).” I wept. “I’m so sorry little sister.” I continued to weep as the memories of my sister flashed through my mind like a film on constant repeat.

*1 month after The Blip*

I hadn’t really stepped out of my cabin since I had first claimed it. I kept the windows shut and bolted, hardly any light really came into this cabin really. Why should I deserve the light after my failure to kill Thanos? But I knew I had to step out because I had run out of beer from the keg I had taken a month ago.

So after restocking some more kegs, beer bottles, whiskey, tequila, whatever alcohol I could get my hands on at the time, I should be good for a couple of months or so, hopefully. As I drank my fifth beer bottle a knock was heard at the door.

“Thor?” Valkyrie. “Thor come on open up it’s just me.”

“It’s unlocked as always.” I told her. I heard the door open and she let out a cough.

“Geez what rolled up and died in here?”

“What are you doing here Valkyrie?” I asked her.

“Well our brewery ran out of whiskey and I figured only one person could be responsible for that so I came to collect some from you. Running this place is a lot harder than you think.” She said as she helped herself to some of my whiskey.

“Try dealing with keeping the peace of all nine realms on top of that.” I scoffed remembering after my first battle with the Avengers when I tried to keep the peace between the nine realms before father thought I was once again ready to take the throne.

“I can only imagine that. Definitely would take more than whiskey to take that hangover off.”

“Why have you really come Valkyrie?” she and I looked at each other and she said.

“To check on my friend who may I remind you hasn’t been outside in over a month except this past Tuesday to take most of our brewery.”

“I’ve told you as I have told everyone else, I’m fine.”

“Is that why you haven’t bathed in that time? No offense but you’re starting to smell worse than Sakaar.”

“Bathing is a lifestyle choice. If I choose the bathe or shower I will do so whenever I please.” She let out a heavy sigh.

“Thor, I know why you’re doing this.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. Did you honestly forget why I went to Sakaar in the first place?” I remained silent. “Drinking my own problems away because I lost all my sisters including the love of my life. Who sacrificed herself to save me. You’re not the only one who lost someone you love. Take it from me, drowning your sorrows can only do so much, eventually the call to action will find you and you’ll have no choice but to get off your ass and fight.”

“Thanos is already dead, but even killing him didn’t bring anyone back. Much less bring her back. What call to action will there be?” I said brokenly.

“How about instead of focusing on the broken past? You help your people? They need a king.”

“No one needs me.” I sat down in my chair and turned away from her as I grabbed an old bag of Doritos and ate whatever was left in the bag. I heard Valkyrie let out a heavy sigh before she left my cabin slamming the door.

Leaving me once again alone in darkness and solitude.

*6 months after The Blip*

‘It has been six months since the Blip when an alien wiped out half of Earth’s population. World governments continue to find an equal consensus but with the world still grieving can we truly move on? Our team has tried to reach out to any remaining members of the Avengers who have all but seemed to disappear from the public eye. Tony Stark aka Ironman has…..’

“Korg you mind shutting that blasted thing off? I thought we were going to begin Fortnite?” I told him.

“Sorry Thor. Just so you know I didn’t turn the channel to the news, it was just on there. Earth seems to have nothing but bad news to tell.”

“Yeah that’s all they really have to say these days.”

“Earth news is depressing.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I muttered. As we got the gaming system started up, Korg told me.

“Speaking of, there were reporters that came over the other day wanting to talk to you about the battle you had with Thanos back in that Wakanda place.”

“Hopefully either you or Valkyrie told them to screw off and to never come back here again.”

“Valkyrie took care of them. And she even called them some very nasty things.”

“And another good reason to put her in charge.” I muttered. As the menu opened up and we picked our avatars we proceeded with the game.

“Just asking out of pure curiosity Thor, will there be a time you come out that doesn’t imply you stealing half of the brewery’s supplies? We really do miss you out there.”

“Who wants to go out when there’s a whole lot to do in here? You can’t get all these video game time out there? And here you don’t have to pay for any alcohol. Sure the cable’s a bit of a pain in the ass but what more could you want right here?”

“It does sound like a load of fun and a huge convenience but at the same time you might probably be doing all of this due to the loss of your sister.” I rolled my eyes and blew a nonchalant raspberry.

“These are just life choices, I can go out whenever I want to for whatever reason I want. My sister—” I trailed off thinking about her.

Just what would she say in this moment? How would she even react to seeing me like this? Most likely she’d be disappointed, she never did like it when either Loki or I got into one of our ‘moods’ (whatever she means by that). Felt like she had been stuck in the middle and having to be the problem solver out of the three of us.

But now she’s just—she’s gone. In all honesty, I’m glad she’s not here to see me like this. Like I said, she’d most likely be disappointed that I’ve shut everyone out and refuse to do anything to help rebuild our new home.

“My sister isn’t even here. So why even try to speak as if she’s still here?” Korg remained silent. I took a deep breath in before exhaling and spoke in a more optimistic manner (or at least tried to anyway. I just wanted this conversation to be done.) “Now then, let’s hurry and beat this round before that little douchebag Noobmaster69 logs on.”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe he called me a dickhead.” Korg said as we continued to play our game long into the night and even until the next morning.

*1 year and 4 months after The Blip*

Today seemed so empty. Much more so than any other day because today should’ve been a day of remembrance, of birth, a milestone for Asgardian Gods. Today would’ve been (Y/n)’s birthday, but just any ordinary birthday. Today she would’ve been 1500 years old. The big 1500.

She could’ve participated on her first ever hunting party and claim a prized boar to be eaten at a feast worthy of Valhalla, music and dancers, and at the end of the night the very stars themselves would dance for her (all thanks to her powers). But there will be no hunt, nor song in her name, for she was one of the many who Blipped away.

I did, however, ask Korg whenever he came up for our annual video game binge to bring up a cake that I knew (Y/n) would love. She always had a weakness for sweet treats, especially when we first came to Earth after Loki tried to take the Tesseract. Boy was that a wild time when she went on that sugar craze and Steve had to coax her down from it but she refused to surrender her candy to him.

“Hey Thor, Meek and I are here and we brought the cake like you asked of us.” Korg’s voice called out.

“Bring it in here my friends.” They came in and there it was. A three layered chocolate cake with dipped chocolate strawberries.

“So Thor is this another one of your monthly big dessert binges?” asked Korg.

“Not for myself.” I answered as I went over and dug through the drawers until I found some old candles and put them on top of the cake. “You know, today would’ve been (Y/n)’s 1500th birthday. A big milestone in Asgardian culture.”

“Really? Is 1000 not worthy?”

“It is but it’s the 1500th that’s even bigger. Compared to Earth I’d say it lines with one’s 16th birthday. Where Earth teens can drive legally and all that fun stuff, in Asgard, when a god turns 1500 they are honored to lead a hunting party to find and skewer a prized boar. To be eaten at a feast worthy of Valhalla itself. Oh I remember my 1500th birthday hunt so well, I made (Y/n) my lead scouter and she dreamed of the day of her birthday hunting party.”

“Oh I see. And your sister, she liked chocolate?”

“Probably one of the few things she loved about Earth. Oh Korg you should’ve seen it. The first time she tried chocolate, I thought her head was going to explode.”

“Thankfully it didn’t otherwise how can one function without a head?” Korg said. I lit the candles up and stared at them for a bit before blowing them out in honor of my sister.

“Happy 1500th little sister. If only I could’ve done more.” I then blew them out in her stand before taking them off the cake.

“She would’ve been happy either way Thor. Hunting party or no hunting party, she would’ve loved it either way.”

“You speak as thought my sister is still here.”

“She is. In a way. Though she is not here physically, she is all around us. Being the goddess of the stars, it’s like she’s still watching over us every night. At least that’s what the Earthlings say about her in their stories, right?” I shook my head chuckling icily.

“I appreciate the words of comfort Korg, but we all know the real truth. She’s gone, and there’s no way of bringing her back. And it’s all my fault.”

“Thor—”

“Sorry Korg, guess I don’t feel much like Fortnite tonight, sorry.” I started to walk off but I grabbed (Y/n)’s cake and left my cabin.

It was now nightfall and I had been standing looking over the cliff’s and the sea ahead. I was at the last piece of my sister’s cake and I looked up at the stars that didn’t seem to shine as brightly as they used to. My heart felt heavy and tears built into my eyes and I wept.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you little sister. For anyone. It’s all because of me. It’s my fault. It’s my fault!” I stayed there for the rest of the night weeping under the very stars my sister once made shine.

Time just went by in a blur. In fact time was irrelevant to me. Only when I needed supplies like more alcohol did I ever show my face to my people. Valkyrie was proving to be a better King than I, I mean how can a King rule his people when he couldn’t even protect them? Let alone his own sister?

I was just—drifting at this point. The only times I felt even the slightest bit of joy was video game nights with Korg and Meek. Life may continue on, but I will always be burdened with the weight of my greatest failure and nothing was ever going to get me out of it.

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marchtothefuckingsea · 2 years

Text

Nothing Without You - Geralt of Rivia

My Masterlist.

Soulmate AU!! But basically just hurt/comfort with a bit of soulmate au to spice things up lmao, hurt/comfort, angst, x female or female identifying reader (for plot, but they use they/them pronouns if any are used at all)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Injury, injured reader, blood, canon violence. Not proofread.

Summary: Soulmate AU where your eyes are the colour of your soulmate's; except it's just a bit different for witchers and theirs.

Before Geralt had become a witcher, he remembered the colour of his soulmate's eyes; of his. A striking shade of green - greener than all the leaves in the spring.

I remembered the colour of my eyes: of my soulmate's. They had been a warm brown; the warmest shade of brown I had ever seen. Warmer than all the reds and yellows and oranges of the autumn, and browner than the darkest of chocolates, but when the sun shone on them, they held the most beautiful of golden sunsets; But shortly before my 10th birthday, I awoke with striking yellow eyes. My parents were shocked. My mother demanded to throw me out, to be rid of the witcher child. My father had gone as far as to leave her, taking me with him. He was killed when I was fifteen; by angry townspeople who thought he had to die for protecting me and loving me unconditionally. I was a monster to them.

And so that was what I became.

I traveled, living the way of a witcher and hunting creatures for coin. It was not the life I would have expected or, in all honesty, would have wanted for myself, but it was the life I now lived. I did not blame my soulmate, but sometimes I wondered if I would ever meet the person who had damned me to this way of life.

It was that path that had been the easiest to take. People believed witchers could not have soulmates, that the bonds were broken when they had gone through the trials. Those like me often took to the roads, in search of their witcher soulmate; Once you met them, your eyes would turn their true colour. It was almost impossible to find them, since the eyes of the witchers did not take the colour of their soulmate's. It was completely up to chance whether you met them or not. Very few were lucky enough, but to them it was the only chance at a normal life.

I had taken the route of no return, simply going along with the facade. There were certain perks to the job, the air of fearful respect from the villagers and getting to travel the lands, none of which I would have had as a normal woman back in my village. All because of my eyes.

I gazed at myself in the dusty mirror of the tavern, took in my tattered state and the slight darkened look around the edges of my golden eyes. I had grown accustomed to them, growing to love the colour of my soulmate's eyes as much as I could, given what grief they had forsaken upon me. Living the life of a witcher made me come to have all the more respect for them, whoever they may be.

I sighed, straightening up and shrugging my cloak on, as I prepared to continue tracking the beast I had come here for. It was a vile creature, living mostly in the forests, disguising itself as a fallen tree to the average passerby. It had begun to pick people off at first, just the average villager; but the beast fed off of magical energy, and edged ever closer to the village, searching for a food source. It was soon preying on healers and small-time magicians, people with magical powers. It had even been said to fell a witcher. It grew ever more powerful as they sent sorcerers one after the other, each failing to return as it consumed their magical energy. Soon it wasn't even bothering with the average townsfolk anymore; it was well fed.

I was quite confident with my abilities to slay the creature; I did not possess any sort of magic, so therefore it would regard me as an average villager, hopefully not even bothering with me, I thought as I slung my sword over my shoulder and clipped my sheathed axe to my hip. Unless my witcher eyes counted.

"'It's not very far.'" I muttered to myself, pausing to lean against a tree and catch my breath. I had been told to keep an eye out for a cabin. Among the old, rotten firewood behind it was where the beast supposedly hid. It would be easy to tell from the others, it would have no moss growing and attaching it to the ground like the others. It simply wouldn't have been there long enough for that. I'd find it, chop its wooden heart out, and collect my coin, easy-

My head jerked up when I heard a creaking sound, swinging back and forth, trying to see what it was. I saw nothing, no movement at all, but the sound was unmistakably loud.

I stumbled back as a fallen log to the right of me rose up. Its hollow eyes staring right into my soul. I watched as it grew taller and taller, stretching its branches and limbs out and shaking dirt and leaf litter off of itself.

"Fuck." I guess my eyes did count.

I jumped back, barely dodging its first swing. It swung another branch at me, this time catching me. I managed to duck away from the large branch, but the smaller branches and twigs whipped against my bare forearms, covering them in small cuts. I hissed, pulling my axe out of its sheath.

The next time it slashed at me, I swung the axe in a huge arc. The unbelievably sharp blade sliced through several smaller branches with ease. A horrible screech split through the air, causing me to cover my ears. I scrambled back when it reached for me again, turning and running for the edge of the clearing, just out of its reach. I watched from a safe distance as the beast grabbed for me, growling and crackling in frustration before suddenly stilling, standing upright like a normal tree. Did it think I was that stupid?

A deafening cracking sound echoed throughout the woods, but the 'tree' did not move. It was followed by a rumble, and the ground tremored. I watched in horror as it ripped its roots from the ground, the dirt falling from them. It stomped over in my direction, and a surge of panic went through me.

I dove for the cover of the brush. Just before I made it, a branch wrapped around my ankle, sharply jerking me back into the clearing, hard. I cried out, my ankle audibly snapping. I struggled against it, to no avail. It suddenly let go of me, and I scrambled back for the bushes once again; And once again, it grabbed me and harshly dragged me back. A strangled cry escaped my throat. I felt the bones in my ankle shifting and floating around. If it hadn’t been broken before, it definitely was now.

The tree creature whipped me up off of the ground and slung my body through the air as if I were a rag doll. My body came into contact with the ground with a thud, muted by the layers and layers of leaf litter on the forest floor. If it weren’t for the half-rotten log hidden beneath, it would have been an otherwise cushioned landing; but of course, I wasn’t that lucky. My head whipped forward and hit the side of the log. I tumbled over the log, continuing to rollI several feet through the mud and brush before I stopped. My head pounded, and my vision blurred dangerously. I closed my eyes to blink in an attempt to clear my vision, but I was unable to open them again.

I tossed my head side to side, straining my arms against the branches that held them down. I opened my eyes, lifting my head to see what restrained me. The thick branches continued to wind around my wrists and ankles, and an even larger one emerged from the ground and began to coil around my middle. I continued to struggle weakly against the monster’s ‘arms’ as they sapped my energy relentlessly. My breath hitched in my throat when the branch around my broken ankle suddenly constricted it, causing the fragmented bones to shift.

An axe suddenly sliced into one of the limbs restraining me, missing my hand by less than a centimeter. It chopped into the rest of them, freeing me from the monster’s clutches with a horrible scream that echoed around the clearing. I rolled onto my side, pushing myself onto my hands and knees. Ignoring the way my head spun, I staggered to my feet. I stumbled over to my own hatchet while the beast was distracted with the white-haired man. I fell back onto all fours as I reached down to grab it, wasting precious time to stumble back onto my feet. The man was fighting against the tree still, his eyes unable to meet mine. He grunted when it brought up a large limb to meet his axe, ripping it away when the blade became stuck in the wood.

I suddenly rushed up to the tree, its heart hollow exposed, and sank the blade of my small hatchet into its heart. I stood slowly, swaying on my feet. My yellow gaze darted up to meet his, and I could have swore I saw his own golden eyes flicker a shade of the warmest brown I had ever seen, before I slumped to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The worn bed frame creaked and groaned beneath my weight as I shifted onto my side with a low whine. My head throbbed painfully when I lifted it. The room was old and abandoned, and cobwebs and dust clung to every crevice. I blinked in confusion. How did I get here?

I propped myself onto my elbows, before forcing myself into a sitting position. I ignored the fatigue pulling at my limbs and the pounding in my head, glancing around. Panic began to set in as I came to my senses and realized I had no idea where I was.

Heavy footsteps suddenly sounded from behind the closed door, and I was immediately on defense.

"You're safe here." The man from earlier reassured me, shutting the door behind him. I eyed him warily, though a strange, reluctant sense of calm washed over me with his presence.

"Who are you?"

"Lie back down." I didn't budge, and he huffed in frustration. "Lie down and I'll tell you."

"I'm fine." I argued stubbornly.

"I know you're in pain. Lie down." He demanded, pressing a large hand to my chest. I obliged without complaint this time. My body immediately relaxed into the bed, all my muscles and nerves finally quieting their screams of protest. I watched him curiously as sat on the bedside. I uncomfortably shifted over to put some distance between us.

"Geralt of Rivia." He introduced himself. "You’re not a witcher.” His voice rumbled as his eyes searched mine curiously.

“Oh here we go again with all this sexist bullshit about how women can’t be witchers-” I grumbled.

“Your eyes aren’t gold.” He said matter-of-factly. “They’re green.”

“What?” I asked him, dumbfounded. I began to struggle back into a sitting position, the sudden need to find some sort of reflective surface too much to bear.

“Stay.” He grunted. He dug into a backpack sat by the wall, retrieving a flask and handing it to me. I brought it up to my face, staring at my reflection in shock. My eyes were no longer the striking yellow I had grown so used to. They were now an almost equally stunning green. The unfamiliar eyes gazed back at me.

“I’m your soulmate.” My eyes darted up to his face.

“No, there’s no way-”

“Your eyes were golden when I found you in the woods. They’re not now.” He said simply. I suddenly recalled his eyes flickering brown as I met his gaze before I passed out.

“Your eyes are brown..” My voice trailed off.

“So that’s what they were.”

“I remember, your eyes were such a pretty shade of brown. Then they turned yellow when I was eleven or so, I think.”

“The trials.”

“The witcher trials?” He simply nodded. My eyes wandered unseeingly. I was completely lost in my thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“For what?”

“I imagine it couldn’t have been easy for you. Not if you’ve taken up the life of a witcher.”

I shrugged, wincing when the motion pulled at some injury on my shoulder I didn't even know I had. "It was the easiest thing to do."

"Was it?"

"I guess so." I hesitated. "I don't know. I just went where the fates took me."

"It's a curse."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"I never thought I'd find you, you know? What were the chances?" I admitted, glancing back at him.

"Very slim." He agreed.

"You're free to live a normal life now." He said after a moment.

"Do you really think I'd want to? After everything I've experienced?"

"If I were still in my village, I'd already be popping out kids as a housewife," I continued. "But because of this whole thing–because of you– I've been able to do all this. Hell, I'm known as the one and only badass female witcher, I've convinced people of the supposedly impossible; I'm not giving up that title."

"So that was you." He mused. "What are you going to do now, then?"

It suddenly hit me that I no longer had the one thing that allowed me to get this far: my golden eyes. I could put on my act all I wanted to, but that couldn't save me from the fact that I was now a fraud.

"I…I don't know." I admitted quietly. "I'm nothing now."

"I can't just go back to normal, Geralt. I can't, I'd kill myself out of boredom."

"Come with me." He offered suddenly.

"What?"

"Travel with me. You're more than capable, if you've managed to convince people you're a witcher."

"But I'm not anymore." I argued. "I'm a fraud. A phony. I’d just drag you down further." He snorted at that.

"That doesn't matter."

"You don't seem like the type to make that offer. I thought you'd prefer to be alone."

"I do, but I can make an exception for my soulmate."

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andinthedarknessbindthem · 1 year

Text

Dwalin X Reader - Arguement

This is based on a 'Sickeningly Sweet Relationship Bingo Card' that I found and forgot to save. So if I find that post, I'll add it here!

I'm a bit rusty since I haven't written since 2019, so please feel free to send requests or comments on anything I need to change! Thank you and much love! <3

✿ Words: 1,037

✿ Themes: Kinda(?) Angst, Fluff

✿ Prompt: From bickering to makeouts

✿ Posted: 2/12/23

Something had been off with Dwalin the last few days and you had yet to find out why. He first had asked you to find him a sack. When you questioned him, he said something about needing to tote some things around. Then he asked you to pull out his winter cloak, saying it was for the upcoming cold season. Then on top of that, you could hear him late at night, sharpening his once dusty axe’s. He was up to something.

You tried and tried again to approach him about the subject, but he just kissed your forehead gently and told you the same excuses.

That same morning, he had asked you to back his bag for a few-day hunting trip that he hurriedly planned in a few days. Questioning him again, Dwalin dipped down and placed a loving kiss on your lips and left you standing in the doorway. You dumbly obliged to his wishes and reluctantly let him go through the door.

You packed up his bag with dried meats, loaves of bread, and other goods. Once you were finished, you decided to make use of the rest of your day and head to the markets. Maybe you could persuade him with his favorite dinner? You scoured the stalls for hours, trying to find the key ingredients. You had spent quite the coin at the end of the day, but you wanted to make Dwalin something special to boost his mood and maybe convince him to tell you what was happening.

Once you arrived home from the markets though, your heart dropped. His bag and axes were gone, along with a few other key items. You threw your basket on the ground and slammed the door behind you, quickly running towards the gate leading out of town.

You nearly tripped as you ran through the busy part of the settlements to find your betrothed. Your brain was running wild with many conflicting thoughts of anger and fear.

How long had he been gone? Too long. He’s probably too far by now.

Maybe he’s just going hunting? With his axes? No.

Did he plan on leaving you? He wouldn’t! He couldn’t.

Once I find him I’m going to tear him a new one.

By the good grace of Mahal, you finally caught him as he was just passing through the gates to leave.

Rage blinded you as you shoved his shoulder to get his attention. He didn’t even falter, “When were you going to tell me you were leaving? Once you came back?” Your voice was filled with venom, but there was a small shake of despair to your words.

His body did a half-turn in your direction, a sorrowful but stern look on his face as he gazed over everything but your own eyes. He turned back towards the forest with a shake of his head and continued walking. “Aye, go back home. This is no business of a woman.” His tone was calm but commanding.

You blinked a few times, your heart felt frozen with how cold he was acting toward you. "You thick-headed oaf! Don't you dare talk to me that way! I know this isn’t because of me being a woman." You hissed, following after him.

“I can’t keep ye safe outside of these walls, (Y/N).” He began, slowing his walk to a complete stop. He still wouldn’t face you, “I cannot promise yer protection.”

“I am not useless, Dwalin. I can help! You know I can handle myself in a fight!” Your voice betrayed you, you couldn’t help as the sadness overpowered your fury.

“No!” He puffed out his chest as he turned towards you now. “You will not follow me.” He demanded. If you hadn’t known Dwalin, you probably would have backed down there. But you knew him well, too well.

“Kakhafu durh 'umalul sakh mi mê!” You seethed the words through your teeth. He let out a large sarcastic laugh at you. (The back side of a troll is a more pleasing sight than you.)

“Like yer one to talk!” Dwalin scoffed and crossed his arms, eyes blazing down at you. ”Me asnân tada Mahal duhû kansu tah.” (You are proof that Mahal has a sense of humor.)

You took a step up to him now. “Sigin'adadmêzu kasat gairurukhs.” You said in a matter-of-fact tone. To the outside eye, it would almost seem as though you both were about to kill each other. But no one dared to step in if they saw you both. (Your grandfather was a goblin.)

He lowered his arms to his sides again, taking the last step between the both of you and pressing your chests together. Challenging him, you continued to glare into his eyes as he glowered down at you. “Adadmêzu duhû bintarg.” A hint of a smirk was dancing on his lips now. (Your father has no beard.)

As you went to open your mouth for another rebuttal, his hands grasped the sides of your face pulling your lips together in a rough heated kiss. The kind of kiss where your teeth clashed together and lips grew numb. You growled in surprise, but it wasn’t completely unwelcome. His lips were rough and calculated, his mustache tickling your cheeks and jaw. Your once rigid body slowly became limp in his arms as your lips melted together. Your teeth clashing simmered down to a soft interlocking of your lips. His hands slid down to your waist, hoisting you up as your legs hooked on his hips. You dragged your fingers into his beard, giving him a light tug. As you finally pulled away, he softly bit onto your bottom lip. Your rage was no longer as he held you so lovingly in his arms.

You unfurled your fingers from his beard, instead bringing your hands ups to caress his cheeks. "I'm going." You said in a much softer tone, thumbs rubbing in soothing lines. You searched his eyes for any sign of disappointment, but he just let out a muted sigh and held you closer.

"If you must," He huffed in agreement before adding a quick, “But if I say hide ye will!” You smiled and pressed your forehead to his.

#dwalin #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #lotr #lord of the rings #dwalin x reader

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undertale-writing-times · 2 years

Note

Could I ask for a poly relationship between Axe, Dust and their s/o? Perhaps a scene where Dust wakes up at night after a nightmare and finds himself completely cuddled up from both sides by Axe and their s/o, and they're just holding around him to make him feel warm and loved.

Short fic is short -w-'

When Dusty woke up this night, it was because of a nightmare.

He sat up quickly, his eye shines shooting around panting hard, trying to catch his breath. His bones hurt, everything hurt. He didn't... he wasn't sure if he could breathe that well.

What was going on? Where was... he slowly realizes where he was, causing him to look down. Arms...

Axe was asleep, holding onto both him, and Y/n, since he was much bigger than them both. They were pretty much laying on top of him, he never seemed to mind too much. Y/n had their arms around him loosely as well, asleep.

He stares down at them both, his fingers flexing. They're... they're here. He looks around the room one more time, then breathes out slowly, and lays down curling up as much as he could, pressing as close to them.

Right now, he just needed to be close to them. He could hear Y/n's heart beat, and the slow beat of Axe's soul.

They were both so cold compared to him, they joked that he was their little heater... he liked being of that use.

Slowly, he let himself get more comfortable, falling asleep again beside them. It was just a nightmare, he knew that it was... they were both safe, and both with him right now. They had him and he was so happy.

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ally-holmes · 2 years

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Regular Customer | Steve Harrington x Reader (ch.9)

Series Masterlist.

Chapter Eight – Chapter Ten.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader|plus-sized!reader|nerd!reader

Word count: 2678

Warning: Blood.

Regular Customer | Chapter Nine.

The clock kept running against them as the group of adults and teens argued about the better way to approach the situation. Jonathan and Nancy had already made a list with the stuff they bought the first time they lured a demogorgon into their world, Eddie had asked for a few more weapons for them and Robin had pointed out the need for light, as they had the first time thanks to Joyce, that way they could see if the beast was near. Steve had the bat with nails in the trunk of his car, as well as the knife Y/N gifted him the night he cut Vecna's head off.

On the other side, the teens were obsessed with helping them someway, claiming they could fight too. Thinking properly, Steve wasn't much older than they were now the first time he fought against one of those things, but having too many people in one place could make their plan fail. It wasn't a surprise when Hopper invited a guy named Owens, some kind of doctor, that worked for the government and that could help them with the matter at hand. Truth is, Hopper had pointed out the need to avoid any more Huntgates from opening in town and for that he needed Owens, he needed the government and he needed Eleven.

In the end, the party divided itself into three groups. Hopper, with Joyce, Doctor Owens, Will, and Eleven would find a way to restrain Vecna's echo. Will had some sixth sense with the Upside Down matters, which made him an important piece in Hopper's plan.

On the other hand, the four young adults were going to be the bait. They were the ones with weapons and the ones who would fight any monster that opened the gate at Byers' house. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Erica were the reinforcements; their mission was to build a restraining area surrounding the house. As should've been expected, Dustin had talked the other ones into going rogue, getting ready to fight with Molotov cocktails and a homemade flamethrower with a lighter and some hairspray.

It was too late at night to find a store that would sell them what they needed; as it turned out, Eddie's father not only taught him how to steal cars but also introduced him to the fine art of forcing locks. They didn't steal anything, technically, they put the money from the things they took on the counter. Hopper would cover for them, anyway.

Byer's house seemed too empty. Since they had moved out, nobody had been there. The walls and floors were dusty; the place smelled closed with a hint of mold. Steve's skin broke into goosebumps remembering the first time he saw a demogorgon in the flesh. Luckily for them, the external light generator still worked and had a couple of hours of function; they didn't use it to set things up, they lit some flashlights and worked in darkness.

Jonathan and Eddie put the Christmas lights on the ceiling, tracing a path. The first time they had lured the monster into the living room and then tried to make it follow them into Will's bedroom. This time they wouldn't move from the living room. The corridor was too long and tight for battle, and on the run, the monster could just banish. Lamps everywhere. Nancy with her shotgun. Robin holding an ax with both hands. Eddie with the long knife Y/N gifted Steve. Jonathan with Molotov cocktails at arm's reach and the lighter ready. Steve with the nailed bat in his hands.

Everything was ready inside the house.

Outside, Erica waited in the shed, next to the light generator, ready to turn it on. Lucas had acquired a crossbow in their clandestine trip to the closed store, it felt like a proper substitute for his slingshot. Dustin and Mike had their homemade flamethrower and a couple of bottles that could make a beautiful flambé.

"We're ready here. Are you?" Nancy's voice came through the walkie.

"Absolutely. Just say the word." Erica responded.

"Turn it on."

The light generator burped and growled a couple of times before turning on. The teens had looked at it without breathing, afraid that after all their effort the plan must be postponed. The Byers' house lit up with an intense orange color.

The Upside Down version of the Byers' house was stuck in November of 1983. It still had the wooden panels on its walls, the old furniture, and the remains of an ancient battle. The smell of gasoline was strong after all this time.

"Not creepy at all," Max muttered.

It'd been hard for them to get there. Max was sweating due to the contained pain in her body, she felt like her ankle was going to explode. Not even a month ago she was still wearing the casts on her legs and now this; she wanted to scream to the universe to go fuck itself. Y/N was also tired. Her legs kept shaking with the effort of fighting every alive form that attacked them. A demobat nearly strangled her, again, but she was fast using her knife to slash its tail.

They could kill for a glass of water.

An echo sounded around them. The girls looked at each other to make sure they hadn't mistaken the sound. They were voices. That was Nancy. Oh, that was Robin, rambling, as usual. Eddie…

Something in the room changed. The old Christmas lights on the ceiling and the lamps closest to the walls lit up. Kind of. It was more like a cloud of warm yellowy dust that floated around them. Y/N stretched her arm to the lamp on the ceiling, the brightest light, and touched the cloud of dust with her fingers. A tingling feeling made her shudder.

"Hey!! Hey!! Can you hear us? Twice for yes. Once for no." Nancy's voice came to them.

As the light gave them two brightest moments they knew the answer was yes.

Nancy took on the duty of explaining their plan grosso modo as loud as she was able to communicate to the other side without their walkies. The light always answered with two bumps when she asked if they understood.

Good.

It was show time.

Steve didn't hesitate to press the knife blade into his palm making it bleed. Eddie grimaced but didn't hesitate either. Just their blood was enough.

They just had to wait.

And wait.

And—

The lights turned off. The Christmas lights lit up as whichever monster walked into the room right to the corner of the living room where Eddie and Steve had left two rags soaked in their blood. The wall inflated changing its stern and solid constitution onto a sticky membrane, a goo that could be broken.

A demogorgon's claw broke the membrane and the monster went into the house. The lights sparkled like crazy. Steve moved his bat and hit the thing in the face in an effort to leave the gate open. From the side of his eye, he saw Max crawling out of the Huntgate, closely followed by a demodog.

The place was pure chaos. Nancy shot a few times. Jonathan threw one of his Molotov cocktails to one of the demodogs that went through the gate following the demogorgon. Eddie screamed every time he hit something and cursed a lot.

The demogorgon pushed Steve to the ground, growled right into his face, ready to bite his head off. With a blink, the demogorgon's head rolled away from him and someone kicked its body away from Steve, now covered in the pestilent blood of the monster. Y/N gifted him half a smile, tired and dirty, but so fucking beautiful Steve felt like it was the first time he saw her. He accepted the hand she lend him to help him up.

The battle wasn't over, they weren't safe.

As the Huntgate closed, only two demodogs were still fighting against them, blinded by hunger. One hit with his bat. Another one. Three. Four and– Steve was pushed towards a wall by the second demodog who jumped against him making him trip on his feet, losing his bat. He turned, so he was facing the room. The demodog was ready to jump again, this time to bite his face off. Why that obsession with biting people's faces off?

The demodog never got him.

He closed his eyes in defeat. As he opened them again, unable to feel any pain, he found Y/N's eyes right before him. She had covered him with her body, again. The demodog had jumped biting her on the neck and shoulder with its flower-like mouth-face full of tiny teeth, its claws clenched to her sides. She opened her mouth but no sound came out of it, just blood.

Steve pulled out the demodogs claws from her with his own hands at the same time Eddie used the knife to slash the asshole in half. Y/N lost strength in her limbs; Steve held her, placing her carefully on the floor. He wasn't aware he was crying until his tears fell into her face.

Y/N was fighting to breathe. Her body was convulsing.

"No. No. No. Come on, baby, hold on." Steve pressed his hands against her sides. The wounds were too big and bleeding too fast; his hands weren't good enough. "Call an ambulance!! Come on, do something!!" He yelled into the room.

Eddie kneeled next to her, on her other side, taking off his shirt to make pressure with it on her neck. He was crying silently.

"Why are you wearing a dress? That's weird, dude." He made her laugh despite the pain.

"I– I– had a–" she coughed, "date. A date."

"Was the whole Carrie look on purpose?" She laughed again, stopping with a howl of pain.

"Don't– Don't move. Okay? Stay still," Steve pleaded.

"She's not going to make it to the hospital, Steve" Robin muttered.

"Shut up! Don't say that! Don't you dare to say that!"

"Steve, she's bleeding too much. The ambulance will take too long to come and then the trip to the hospital, and–" she tried to explain.

"We'll drive her," he looked at Eddie for approval. "We could drive her, right? We'll be faster."

"If we move her, she'll bleed faster. Steve–" Nancy tried to touch him. Steve pushed her away.

"–eve�� St–eve…" Y/N tried to talk.

"I'm here. I'm right here."

With a gesture of her trembling hands, covered in blood and dirt, she asked him to come closer to her. He leaned down, approaching his ear to her mouth so she wouldn't have to make much effort to talk. Her voice was barely a whisper of broken words, but he got the message.

"Duct tape. We need duct tape and fabric!! Come on, guys, move!!"

To his order, the room was set into motion. Even Dustin, Lucas, Erica, and Mike, who had come in to help with the fight, were ready. With t-shirts and other fabrics, Steve and Eddie made little fabric gauzes that could soak the blood.

"Press it harder, Eddie. Y/N…" Steve noticed then that her eyes had never left him. "Take a deep breath. It's going to hurt."

Eddie pressed the fabric to the wounds on one of her sides and Steve covered the whole spot with duck tape as tight as he could. Y/N's yells of pain echoed in his mind. They did the other side and the neck-shoulder would be the last one. The damaged area was bigger, but the wounds weren't as deep as the ones on her sides.

"Good. It's good. You still with us, doll?" Eddie asked her. She gave him a weak thumbs up.

"Jonathan, can you drive fast?" Steve asked him as he reached into his pocket, taking out the keys to his car.

"The fastest."

For the first time, Steve looked at his hands. Truly looked at them. His hands were covered in thick, sticky blood. Y/N's blood. So thick and so sticky that he could barely feel his own fingers if he touched them. If his keys got dirty with blood nobody cared.

"Alright, honey, I'm going to pick you up. Hold into me, okay? Scream if you need to. Ready?"

She smiled weakly at him. Steve moved away her hair from her sweaty face and got himself ready. Y/N'd never been picked up. She'd always been too heavy for being carried by her friends, not even piggybacks. Her mind was fuzzy with blood loss and the number of pet names both his best friend and his crush kept using on her, but she still felt impressed when Steve Harrington lifted without a sound as if she was the lightest thing he'd ever carried in his arms.

Y/N might've cried with pain as she was lifted, and she might've passed out because the next thing her mind registered was the warmth of Steve's body against her while he carried her to his car. Oh, his car. She was going to get all the insides dirty.

Eddie and Steve accommodated Y/N in the backseat; the first one held her legs while the second one kept her back against his chest. Jonathan drove forgetting all about traffic regulations.

"Hey! Hey, sweetheart, don't close your eyes!" Eddie pleaded and she fought to comply.

She wasn't feeling pain anymore. She was just tired and wanted to sleep. Y/N looked up and she had Steve's face so close to her, looking at her with such concern that her heart broke.

"You late," she whispered.

"I know," he smiled wetly. "I'm sorry. I called the theater to make you know I– I should've gone to pick you up. On our next date, I'm going to pick you up at your place, I don't fucking care if I have to drive the town up and down ten times."

"Next… date?" Her blinking was uncoordinated and slow.

"Yeah. If you want to, of course. We can go to the Arcade. Do you like the idea?" He needed to keep her awake.

"I– I beat ass."

"I'm sure you'll beat my ass, but that's okay. No. No. No. Don't close your eyes, come on, baby, show me your beautiful eyes… There you go. Hi."

"Hi."

Eddie clenched his hands on her calves, biting his lower lip to avoid pouting. She looked at him and smiled.

"I– Happy. Glad."

"Don't say that," he begged, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Truth."

"Safe forces, please."

Y/N took a good look at Eddie. He seemed scared, terrified even. He was covered in sweat and blood, in monster goo. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks had traces of the tears that kept falling silently. Eddie had always been her best friend, the family she'd chosen. He would be miserable when she died, but how to stop it?

She looked to the front seats. Jonathan was tense while driving, not daring to glance to the backseat, not tearing his eyes away from the road. Next to him was Nancy. Her body was turned to them, looking at them from between the seats. She was also dirty but still looked beautiful. Her sobs were silent, only noticeable with the shaking of her body and the glassy look in her eyes.

It was Steve's turn. He was holding her as if he was the only thing keeping her alive, attached to this world. He saw something in her face, in her eyes, and in the way she looked at him because the expression on his face changed to pure panic. He pleaded for something, begged for her to do something, or not do it. She couldn't hear anything. The noise around her was muffled as if she was underwater. Her vision blurred just the moment she was trying to count Steve's beauty marks.

She was so tired she couldn't remember the moment she closed her eyes if she did. She must've, though, because the world turned black.

To be continued…

If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Taglist: @marvelsmylife @untitledarea @golden-wander @mess-in-side @sandrayaret @the-winter-spider @ladyravenclaw @thorfemmes @tooearlyforthis @mxdramanana @fujiihime @blueberry-birdie @p-rspective @thesnoweclipse @simpingfortoomanypeople @bibliophilewednesday @lovesanimals0000 @renaroo123 @thechoiceslookgrimm @xoprincessmel @m-rae23 @qardasngan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #eddie munson #fem reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things season 4 #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #steve harrington series

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 4 months

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ari.. ur entire wip list has me loosing my mind i dont even know what to think rn or where to start. i am so deeply intrigued it hurts LIKE AGH but i ofc have to ask about ur little red riding hood!reader x wolf/hunter!suguru it sounds so wonderful!

MOSSSS hi hello tysm for asking!!! U PICKED A SUPER FUN ONE perfect timing bc im planning on writing it out today!!! or . Trying to…. anyway mickey also asked abt it here (hivemind moment) but i can give u some extra details + tiny snippets ive written out !! >:33

IM SO GLAD U ASKED ABT THIS ONE bc it makes me think of u sm !! there’s def going to be a lot of teeth imagery….. and it’s also my attempt at writing smth more Twisted and gritty w sugu which i dont do suuuper often? so im excited!!

so far my idea of the story is just…. little red riding hood but w a twist? or more like . little red riding hood meets the hunter before they meet the wolf, and is kinda . coaxed into staying at his cabin … for an indefinite period of time…. and he’s charming and doting and secure but something is just Off abt him. classic sugu <33

im gonna read through the brothers grimm version of the story a bunch and take some inspiration there, also so i can reference some events and lines and stuff!! im thinking of mayybe making it a bit meta in the sense that reader knows what fairy tale they’re in, knows how the story goes… maybe suguru too? it’s just a thought but im sooo excited to finish this one hhhh....

im still super unsure abt how im going to … like …. format the whole thing 😭😭 bUT i have these lil snippets written out !! might end up changing them as i write but im pretty happy w them hehe

“i have to go see grandma,” you try, gazing up at him with a pleading smile. hoping he’ll cave. but he curls an arm around your waist. steady, steady, steady. so much stronger than you. “it’s dangerous,” is all he says, a gentle warning. “you’ll be safer here. your grandmother can wait.” he gives you a sweet smile, to ease your nerves, but something rotten settles in your gut; bile at the base of your throat. sour. you try not to eye his axe, still hanging by the fireplace.

his voice is deep, smooth, with just the slightest hint of a rasp. in the morning, or at night, it’s gravelly; like an axe dragged through rugged grounds, or the bark of a tree yet to be cut. enough to make goosebumps spread along your neck, a pleasant tremble of your spine. it happens, sometimes, when you’re lying in bed together. he flips through the pages of a dusty fable, caresses your hair with a steady hand, and out it comes — a noise that curls around the base of his throat, rumbles through his chest. deep, raspy, gravelly. almost a growl. he clears his throat, and you pretend not to have noticed it. he rewards you with another page or two.

and ah, there it is. that quiver of his jaw. like he’s trying not to snap it, trying not to bare his teeth. they’re sharp. when he kissed you this morning, you felt them nip at your skin. you think he was trying to control himself.

#TYSM FOR ASKING MOSS <333 #lil red riding hood is one of my fave fairy tales hehe #and even the more child friendly versions are very gritty LMAO so its perfect for this kinda thing i think #like wdymmmmm this girl put a bunch of rocks in the wolf’s stomach after the hunter sliced him open…… wolfie just wanted a treat :(((#anyway i just think sugu has such an obvious dichotomy to his character which is where this concept came from !!#the idea that he’s both the wolf AND the hunter…. yeahhhhh #ask tag ✩#moss !! ✩

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blorbfoosh · 3 months

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Chapter 2 -

We turn back again to the mansion we saw at the beginning, back into the meeting room. Shade was at the head, Knife on his right. Another skeleton, wearing a dark blue jacket, a light grey tank top, and dark grey cargo shorts sat on Shade’s left. He wore dusty blue sneakers and white gloves, too. He stared at a map on the table with mismatched eyelights, one red, one blue and red, the blue glowing bright with red in a neat ring. He scanned the map, before marking a few spots with a purple marker. He glanced at the others. There are a handful of skeletons milling around the table, one with a red lightning-shaped scar on his cheekbone, another with a… A hole in the right side of his head, to put it lightly. He glanced at Knife with a big, blood-red eyelight, before turning back to fiddle with his phalanges. He was larger than the others, maybe around Shade’s height, just taller. He wore a white turtleneck with a few stains here and there, a dark maroon battle vest, and black cargo pants. Worn loafers tapped absentmindedly on the floor. The chair across from him held the scarred skeleton. He wore mainly black and white clothes. A black long-sleeved shirt under an open hoodie-vest tee, black, knee-length shorts with a white ‘X’ stitched onto the sides, and white lace-up boots. He stared uneasily at the door. The tension was thick. Not a word entered the air. The large skeleton then perked up. Knife looked at him curiously. “Whatcha got there, Axe?” He said, breaking the silence. Axe merely stared at the door, a hungry look in his eyelight. The others turned their eyes to where he had his sights on. Waiting… For what? Suddenly, a dark blue slipper shoe with Bayern blue soles kicked open the door, and once again, another skeleton strode in. He was a dark-toned skeleton, wearing a black coat, with an open Napoleon collar, decorated with a yellow stripe running along the sides of the collar. The angel sleeves of the coat are wider than usual, and from a little past the elbow down, it was a nice shade of cerulean. The same went for the pants, black, wide-leg style, and from past the knee down, blue fabric replaced the black. He wore a crimson sweater and a cobalt scarf that flew wildly behind him. Black fingerless gloves concealed red metacarpals, showing only the yellow of the tips, as he carried several bags and boxes. His face is obscured by the pizza boxes he was carrying, however. The monochrome-themed skeleton smiled. “Finally, Adler. What took you so long?” He asked, resting his elbows on the table. “Fuckin’ anomalies, o’course.. Whaddya expect, Check?” A deep, glitchy voice spoke, setting down the boxes with a small slam. Red sockets, with mismatched yellow eyelights, one yellow, one blue, ringed with yellow- Much like the map-marking skeleton. Oh, and to make his features even more unique, he had blue tear-like streaks running down his face, and a bright yellow set of teeth, curved downwards into an unamused frown. He wore round, circular glasses, too, to complete the look of ‘hot hobo.’ The map-marking skeleton rolled his eyelights. “You gotta deal with em, be they annoying or tolerable.” Said he in a quiet, raspy tone. Adler glared at the other. “So you say, Ash. You’re the one w-” Shade rapped his knuckles on the table for order. “Let us eat. In peace, I request. Adler has gone a long way just for us. So did Knife, Ash, and Axe.” He reprimanded, looking at them with irritation in his one eyelight. The others fell silent, Axe chewing a slice of pizza quietly in the background, his large red eyelight watching Shade.

“While we eat, let’s discuss our next plan of action. Our band, Antagonists, has been pretty quiet lately. I say we do a concert.” He glanced at the others. “What do you say?” Axe glanced at Ash, who shrugged, eyeing Check. He looked anxious for some reason, or maybe it was the pizza. A big, fat cow stared at Check in the box. He shuddered, hastily taking his pizza. Knife smirked and shoved him playfully. “Well, if you ask me, I’m all for it. Boss. I’m not sure about Checkers.” Knife said, a small laugh in his tone. Check glared at him, rolling his eyelights and muttering under his breath. Shade raised a bonebrow. “You have an objection, Check? Is is the food not to your liking?” He asked, holding Check in an intense starebattle. Axe perked up at the mention of food and was now eyeing Check, as Adler was minding his own business. Thankfully. Check cleared his… Throat, and shook his head. “No, sir, I am fully on board with the concert idea. I think it is an excellent idea.” Axe stared at him expectantly, and Check flushed a light purple. “Oh, and the food is very nice.” He added, looking away. Adler held a triumphant smirk on his face, before looking away. Ash and Axe did thumbs-ups, and Adler shrugged. “Eh. Why not.” Shade nodded approvingly of the gang. “Then, it’s settled. Shadow Moon will be out of business, except for recon and the Duchess project. We’ll discuss further plans later. For now, let’s just eat.” He said, grabbing a pizza slice, a rare smile on his face.

On the other side of the city, far from where the mansion is, a woman was yelling at a worker. Inside the store stood a short, young, feminine monster, holding a broom in her hands, standing still as the woman yelled at her. She was dressed in a grey turtleneck and black jeans, along with matching black sneakers. A light grey apron went over her clothes, her face dripping. Black hair, going past her shoulders was tied in a ponytail, as she stood there, drenched. “YOU INSOLENT CREATURE! I ASKED FOR WATERMELON, NOT WHATEVER HORRID SHADE THIS IS! I DEMAND A REFUND- IMMEDIATELY. WHERE IS YOUR MANAGER!?” The woman screamed, stomping, as a bouquet of oleander fell on the floor, flat from being squashed under the woman’s foot. The worker winced at the sight of the ruined flowers. “I am the manager, Ma’am. I’m Vans Gastorre. How can I help-” She was cut off by another splash of water from the woman’s water bottle. She screamed something about monsters and then trudged off. Vans sighed. Another low review. At this rate, she’ll be out of business in a month or two. She barely makes enough to pay the bills… “Oh, for Asgore’s sake. Can I not have a bad day of business? Please?” She pleaded, to whatever deity may hear. She shook her head, flipping the shop sign to ‘CLOSED,’ her movements much like a slime’s. Well, she is. Globs of matter formed on her grey face, a sign she was tired. She cleaned the mess off of the floor and stretched. “Geez.. I need a break. That trip to the Ashen Sunset is more than overdue,” she muttered, trudging up the stairs. Upon reaching her room, she went out to the tiny balcony and pulled out a cigarette out of her messy hair. No lungs to fuck up, yeah? She lit the cancer stick and inhaled deeply. Ahh… Better. She could feel her stress melting away.

The bright, neon lights beaming the words ‘Ashen Sunset,’ with a bright phoenix beside it, shone down on Lottee. She gulped nervously. It was large, fancy, and imposing. “C’mon, Lottee, don’t be a scaredy cat- Er, mouse. Think of the free drinks! Yes, the drinks..” She gulped and placed her paws on her hips. “Mouse up!” She said, putting up a confident smile, and stepped in. And fell flat on her face. Another gasped. “Aw, for fluff’s sake…” Lottee mumbled, sitting up and dusting herself off. Someone knelt in front of her, holding out a grey hand. “Hey, you okay..?” They asked, in a quiet and deep voice. Female, probably, due to her black jeans and style of shoes. “Mmmph.. Could be better, but thanks.” Lottee replied, taking the outstretched hand gratefully. She grabbed her purse and straightened out her light green dress.

When she fixed the loose fluff from her face, she came face to face with a feminine monster. She seemed like one of the slimekind, most likely molten, due to the globs collecting and looking quite a lot like those anime sweat or tears. Stringy black hair fell down her shoulders in a straight wave, and she wore a casual dark grey shirt and fishnet gloves to go with her jeans. She looked down at Lottee with white eyelights full of concern. “You sure you’re fine? You took quite the fall.” Lottee smiled. “Yes, miss, I’m doing swell! My name’s Lottee. And you are..?” She prompted, a friendly smile on her face. The molten woman smiled back, albeit tiredly. “I’m Vans. Nice meeting you, Lottee.” The mouse nodded at Vans with a cheery expression in her eyes. “Hey, why don't you join me for a drink? I have a friend here, she can give us freebies!” Lottee exclaimed, grabbing Vans’ wrist with the excitement of a child. Vans looked at the paw with some hesitance but shrugged and went along with the mouse dragging her along. ‘I mean… What could go wrong, anyway?’

Aden sighed, pulling off her stage dress in the crew’s facilities. The greyscale ombre dress slid smoothly off of her arms and body, showcasing the multiple scars she bore on her back, chest, and upper arms. She sighed, folding up the dress and slipping on her bartender’s uniform- A fitting white tee, black leggings, grey sneakers, and a dark grey apron, with an orange phoenix print on it. The Sunset’s logo. She slid her other things into her bag, and tightened her hidden belt on her waist, making sure her trusty, silver scimitar was attached. It was risky, bringing her personal weapon into the den of thieves, but Psyche had ‘accidentally’ broken her double daggers, her work weapon. So she had to make do. Aden could fix it herself, in a jiffy, but she’d raise questions. So the manual way it was. It was one of the busiest nights in any of the ‘sale seasons’ she’d been called to work at. Yes, Aden Stryn. The infamous ‘sales girl’. The worker who only appeared during high tides, big business, festivals, holidays… Anything that is of date in the calendar, she’s there. Like now. The Echo festival was coming up soon, and everyone was already relaxing. She placed her bag in her locker and whispered something incomprehensible, and black tendrils slowly rose from the floor, snaking around her locker, making a chain around it, before sinking into the rusty metal. She took a deep breath and in the background, she heard the other singer begin their song. She pushed the black curtain that hid the crew facilities aside and walked behind the bar, ready to serve.

Showtime.

Knife stood in front of the Sunset, leaning against the doorpost, on the phone. Ash’s voice crackled on the speaker. “Don’t be stupid, okay? Don’t forget your investigation.” Ash scolded, in a raspy and quiet baritone. Knife smirked. “Don’t fret over me, ashtray. I can always investigate at the Sunset. Multitask.” Ash sighed. “Don’t call me ashtray. And whatever. Don’t be a moron.” “Yeah, yeah, got it.” Knife then disconnected the call and then sighed, walking in. The familiar sight of the bar somewhat calmed him. The scent of alcohol, the sounds of chatter over the singer’s voice, the clinks of the glasses as the bartenders cleaned and served, and the waiters and waitresses sweet-talking the patrons all wound up into a comforting ambiance for him. A female bartender exited the crew facilities and went behind the bar, ready to dish out the orders. She greeted her coworkers, seemingly friendly, but Knife picked up on the slightest bit of hostility. Oh, whatever. It’s not like it’s his problem, yeah? Just normal competition between coworkers. He observed a little more, before spotting a table that had an empty seat. The people occupying the rest of the table were playing poker. He smirked. “Well, let’s have some fun, shall we?” He muttered, tapping the load of G in his pocket. He headed over and took a seat. “A slot open, boys?” He asked, sliding into the seat.

Game on.

Lottee raised a hand, calling over the nearest bartender. “Can I have a chocolate mudslide, on the rocks?” She asked, Vans sitting beside her. Lottee turned to the molten one beside her. “Uh, Vans? What would you want-” She was cut off by Van’s simple reply. “Vodka sunrise.” Lottee stared at Vans with a bewildered look. “You sure?” Vans nodded. Lottee shrugged, before calling over the bartender again- And getting jumpscared with Aden’s face. “WH- GAH!!” Aden chuckled at this. “Well, look what the mouse dragged in. A fellow friend.” She nodded at Vans. “Hi, I’m Aden Stryng. I work here, as you can see. And you are..?” She asked, quirking a brow. “Uh. I’m Vans Gastorre. Nice meeting you. I work at uh, Floradical.” Aden’s other eyebrow soon followed the other. “Oh! I’ll drop by if I have the chance.” She leaned closer to Vans. “I’ll let you in on the freebie deal here, too. Friends?” She asked, a little smirk on her face. Vans furrowed her brows. “Freebies? Well... That’s a hard bargain you drive, miss. What’s in for you?” Aden leaned back, shrugging. “New clients and your friendship.” Vans looked at Aden with a somewhat beguiled expression. “You sure?” Aden nodded. “If I wanted to kill you I would’ve done it already at Floradical. But I’m not like that. I don’t like having blood on my hands. Unless it was for cooking.” She said, preparing the requested drinks. Lottee glanced at the back and forth between Aden and Vans. “Uh, guys, let’s break it down. We’re here for friendly-” She once again was cut off by Vans. “Free drinks? A deal it is then. I hope to see you ‘round at Floradical, you two.” Lottee nodded. “We’re having a freesome.” Vans choked at this, and Aden chuckled. “What..?” Lottee muttered under her breath. “Well, here are the drinks, gentleladies. I’ll be on my way now.” Aden announced, sliding the drinks over with a flourish only an experienced bartender can have. She then walked away to deliver more orders. Three rounds in, and Knife was close to losing all of his money. He gritted his teeth. Goshdammit. This was a bad choice. He glanced at his hand. Oh. He could either divide his eights, which is risky, or he could call. He didn’t register the shadow that flitted around each head, checking their cards. He was about to call when a whisper echoed in his head. ‘Divide your eights. The other hands are weak.’ He furrowed his bonebrows. And why should I trust you? He thought. The voice grumbled. ‘C’mon, I’m trying to help your pitiful barebones ass. Do you want to win your G back or not?’ Knife stopped. This… Thing drove a hard bargain. The voice scoffed. ‘FYI, I’m Insania. Not a thing. Just… A little voice in your head. Trust me. Okay?’ Knife relented, and divided his eights. Everyone else collectively groaned. He wore a smirk on his face, as the chips and his G were passed to him. Seems like he won this time. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He said, smirking. He also thanked Insania, the little whatchamacallit in his head. Insania grumbled again. ‘By the way, you better leave. I saw some of the Starflame’s patrol come this way.’ His sockets widened slightly. “Huh. Is that so? Well, I guess it’s time to go.” He muttered. He grabbed his G, downed the last of his Scotch, and was out of there. Unfortunately, the patrol spotted him. He was too late. So he did what he did best. He ran and evaded, teleporting onto the roof and letting them chase him for the hell of it. ‘Time for another wild ride, eh?’ He thought to himself, as he jumped from building to building. He didn’t see the eye that watched him with interest from above, as they flitted back to the bar, settling on Aden’s shoulder and melting into her skin.

Several hours later, Aden stared at the two figures laughing their heads off with slight irritation and amusement. Vans was hiccuping about hot mafia octopus skeletons, and Lottee was blabbering about how hot mentally unstable monsters were. She sighed. Lightweights. At least her shift was almost over- And it was the last one of the day, thank the stars. She went into the crew facilities, grabbed her bag, and slipped on her sweater. She then headed out and was just in time to see Vans wobbling on her chair, leaning forward, and splattering all over the counter. White goo everywhere. Lottee giggled, pointing to the Van that was splattered all over the cedar wood counter, saying something like “Vans became semen- Or bird poop- Heehaa…” Aden rolled her dark brown eyes, tying her black locks into a low ponytail. “Well, let’s get the drunkards home, shall we?” She said to no one, in particular, heaving Lottee on her back. She flicked her finger, and the same tendrils from a while ago scooped Vans up(seeing as she was practically goop floating in clothes at this point), and compressed into a ball, as big as a tennis ball. She tucked the black matter into her bag, secured Lottee on her back, and went out, into the dark night.

#utmv #utdr #utdr au #original character #original story #original au #oc #oc stuff #self indulgent #drmv #ogmv #alternate universe #inspired #references to drinking #magic

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creoterative · 7 months

Text

The TWDG x Diablo Collection

Hey guys! Yeah, two posts in a row, and they're huge, wow!

Okay, enough with this xD I'm a little sick at the moment and started to read a few TWDG stories again. You know, it's only a matter of time before I get back into the fandom again, it always is with me. And then I can continue to write Let's play a Game then, with all my heart. Just feels wrong writing it without having my head in the game.

Anyways, remember these funny little shorts I made about Marlon the Demon Hunter and Louis the Scoundrel? Well, I put them all together now!

Have fun and a nice day!

PS: Just so there's no confusion, I changed their names, so here's a list.

Marlon - Demon Hunter (player character)

Louis - Lyndon, the Scoundrel

Brody - Eirena, the Sorceress

Aasim - Kormac, the Templar

Clementine - Leah, niece of Lee

Lee - Deckard Cain

Ms Martin - Myriam

James - Tyrael

Kenny - Haedrig

Katjaa - Mira

Lilly - Magdha

Abel - Cultist

Carver - Zoltun Kull

Minnie - Cydaea

Chuck - Shen

Charlie - Urzael

Clem's mother - Adria (I got lazy, ok)

---

Marlon after picking up an axe: “.... I can’t.”

Me: “What?”

Marlon: “I can’t use it....”

Me: “What do you mean, you can’t use it? It’s an axe, swing it!”

Marlon: “I’m an archer!”

Me: “Do I look like I care? Kill zombies, doesn’t matter how!”

Marlon: “I literally can’t use an axe.”

Me: “Take it, with both hands please, and swing it around.”

Marlon: “.........”

Me: “Okay, fine, use that old, dirty, almost falling apart bow, but don’t you dare gimme a heart attack when you don’t deal as much damage as you should.”

---

Marlon: *passing a random perfectly cooked boar in the middle of the forest*

Me: “....No.”

Marlon: “.....”

Me: “Don’t look at it, it’s probably infected, we are not going back to take a bite, we are not checking if it has any loot, this is definitely a trap- we’re going back, alright.”

---

Marlon: “What is your uncle searching for?”

Clementine: “He’s trying to find the last pieces of the prophecy, that will show us how to make an end to the prime evil. Urgh, just another one of his many fairytales.”

Me, looking at Marlon, then at my pet devilish plant, that I named Rosie: “...Clem, you are literally standing next to a guy with red dragon wings, glowing eyes and a murderous plant. What do you mean ‘FaIrYtAlEs’???”

---

Ms Martin: “After fighting against the terror in his soul for so long, the King had to go insane, one way or another.”

Marlon: “He’s not the only one... My sister fell to darkness after our parents were slaughtered by the dead.”

Me: “...”

Marlon: “...”

Me: “And then you hit her with the flashlight or what?”

---

Aasim: “I will accompany you on your journey. Under one condition.”

Marlon: “What?”

Aasim: “If we find the old relics and folios of my order, they belong to me.”

Marlon: “Alright, I don’t have any use for books.”

Me: “Yeah, you like to shoot at them, especially the old dusty ones in hopes of finding gold, you maniac. That actually explains quite a lot.”

---

Marlon: “Of course there are three of them.”

Me: “Oh come on, I hate this task... just tell me in which crypt the crown is, damn blacksmith...”

Marlon: “Huh, it’s not in here. Gotta check the other ones.”

Me: “Uh-huh..... yeah..... sure.....”

Marlon: “Figures. It’s not in this one either.”

Me, on the edge to insanity: “WhO wOuLd HaVe GuEsSeD?????”

One insane horde of monsters and zombies later

Marlon: “Ah, there it is.”

Me: “.....Marlon, we went through SO much trouble for a dusty, broken, fucking old crown, I want more enthusiasm, you hear me??? Imagine finding food in the winter for Ericson’s, THAT’S gonna make you happy, right?! Imagine that and project it onto this little worthless piece of crap over there, because I am NOT doing anything like this again!!!”

Marlon: “....”

Me: “....”

Marlon: “....Should head back to Tristram.”

Me: “Yeah, sure.”

---

Louis: “Nice walk we’re doing here.”

Marlon: “We’re not on a walk, we’re fighting for our lives!”

Louis: “Even more reasons to enjoy the view!”

---

Clementine: “Look at this! This must’ve been built before the war of sins!”

Louis: “Oh, I can show you a thing or two about sins.”

Marlon: “Louis, shut up.”

---

Marlon: “Did you grow up as a Templar?”

Aasim: “No. Our sacred scriptures order us to spread out and fight the evil within people, then make them pure again.”

Marlon: “Huh. My initiation ritual was less... formal. I was asked if I want to kill demons and I said yes.”

Me: “...Marlon.... you.... you were twelve or so and severely traumatized.... I-I don’t know if... you really had a choice back there.....”

---

Aasim: “Do you ever feel fear when fighting the unholy creatures?”

Marlon: “If I ever felt it, it was comsumed by my hatred.”

Me: “So that’s why you thought it was a good idea to shoot at that big old door in the crypts, KNOWING that SOMETHING was waiting behind it. Something BIG.”

---

Maghda: “Nevermind! You will never get the second piece!”

Marlon: “Go to hell, witch!”

Me: “Damn, Marlon, wish you would’ve had these balls with Lilly. You know what, Imma call Maghda Lilly now, gotta make up for past mistakes, right?”

---

Louis: “HMMMM, sometimes I have a feeling you don’t really know where you wanna go.”

Marlon, after running towards a dead end in the spider cave for the fifteenth time: “Th-The right way isn’t always clear, you know?”

Louis: “Mhm, sure.”

---

Marlon: “So, where do you come from?”

Louis: “Kingshaven! The city right next to our beloved sea. Full of great treasure and nets with stinky fish.”

Marlon: “I know. What were you doing there?”

Louis: “O-Oh, well, I, uhm, at the moment I’m in a transition phase, you know?”

Marlon: “Nothing honorable, no doubt.”

Louis: “Hey, I’m the most honorable thief you’ll ever meet!”

---

Before Lee’s death

Lee: “The scriptures about the eternal conflict tell us about an old temple, where-”

Marlon: “I’m not interested in books, old man. Tell me where to go and I’ll do what has to be done.”

After Lee’s death

Ms Martin: “You look a little gloomy there. Tell me what old Ms Martin can do to lighten up your mood.”

Marlon, shadows swooshing around him, eyes glowing red: “I’m not in a bad mood. I’m excited for the moment when I kill Maghda and every single member of her godforsaken circle.”

Ms Martin: “Heavens, if that’s what you look like when you’re excited, I don’t wanna be around when you’re angry.”

---

Marlon: “Why do you waste your time lusting after women?”

Louis: “You can’t waste your time with anything better.”

Marlon: “But you let them fall without remorse.”

Louis: “There was only one who would’ve been worth it, but... she’s out of my reach now.”

Marlon: “That’s no excuse for running after every woman we meet.”

Louis: “You’re totally right, sometimes THEY should be running after ME!”

---

Marlon: “Who taught you how to fight?”

Louis: “My older brother. He thought the crossbow was the ideal weapon for me because it gives you time to run away if things go wrong.”

Marlon: “The crossbow is no weapon for cowards.”

Louis: “Nawww, did I insult you?”

Marlon: “Be quiet.”

---

Abel: “He’s unstoppable! No ordinary human could slaughter our brothers like this!”

Lilly: “Then die well! Lord Belial will honor your deaths!”

Abel: “He’s here! Kill him!”

Marlon, busting through the door: “COME AND GET ME, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! GO BACK TO HELL, ALL OF YOU!!!”

Louis: “Damn right, they didn’t even mention me!”

---

Louis: “Do you think I’m her type?”

Marlon: “Whose type?”

Louis: “Your friend, Clementine’s!”

Marlon: “No.”

---

Marlon: “You look a little glum there. What is on your mind?”

Kenny: “Oh, I was just thinking about Katjaa...”

Marlon: “Oh... your wife. I’m sorry about that, but it had to be done. Do you want to talk about her?”

Kenny: “If you would like to listen... Actually, we met here in Caldeum.”

Marlon: “Here? How?”

Kenny: “You won’t believe it, but she was in a cage!”

Marlon: “What, you married a criminal...?”

Kenny: “No! She was accused of having used ancient, forbidden spells!”

Marlon: “You married a WITCH???”

Kenny: “Argh, forget about it.”

Me: “Marlon, you are running around with one, no two, wait, THREE witches yourself, a guy who we all think is some kind of ancient being, a guy who was an ARCHANGEL and a lady who can see the future. And don’t forget the thief!” *Louis waving in the background*

---

Carver: “You and I aren’t that different from each other. I can help you to gain the power of your birthright, the power, to rule the world.”

Marlon: “That’s a bad idea. I can’t fight with someone I don’t trust.”

Me: “....Wait, hold on, if you trusted him, you WOULD do it???”

---

Marlon: “King’s Haven is a great city. Why did you leave?”

Louis: “Oh, the usual, I wanted to see the world!”

Marlon: “Let me guess, you stole something from an important person and got caught.”

Louis: “...yeah....”

---

Minnie: “I hope you didn’t take on too much, little boy.”

Louis: “Hah, never!”

Marlon, back to back with Louis, almost bleeding out: “NEVEEEER!!!”

---

Aasim to Marlon: “Wait. Before we fight this unholy creature... When we first met, I thought you were reckless and eaten up by your own hatred-”

Me: “You weren’t wrong there, buddy.”

---

Ms Martin: “Horrible things happen, even as we speak. I see a city in flames and an old friend, who pays the ultimate price so that the truth can come to light.”

Marlon: “That sounds familiar....”

Ms Martin: “Oh, you can see the future too?”

Marlon: “No, I - forget it...”

Me: “....No, please do elaborate, what the fuck did you accidentally activate this time?”

---

James: “I called these holy heavens my home... To see it in shambles like this, it pains me more than the endless battles we fought day by day against the dark armies of hell.”

Louis: “Oh, with a bit of demon blood and ashes scattered across the floor, they’ll look just fine, don’t worry!”

Marlon: “Louis, if you don’t shut up, I’ll throw you back to earth.”

---

Louis: "Westmarch is just one big disaster. I need a drink. Or five."

Marlon: "Wait until we're done saving the city."

Louis: "But you're always taking so long!"

---

Louis: "Sometimes I can't tell which one of our friends is the most insufferable. Kenny is always miserable and Chuck eats like a boar. Somehow, you seem to be the normal guy in the group."

Marlon, thinking about his cruel, dark, traumatizing past: "....I'm sorry, what?"

---

Marlon, to a villager: "Leave that necromancy stuff, you hear me?!"

Louis: "You're one to talk."

Marlon, offended: "Hey, shadowmagic is totally different!"

---

Charlie: "But what I saw were humans. Lots of them. They kill, they sin, they enjoy the bloodshed they cause. And they always choose violence."

Louis: "And sometimes we live, laugh and love. Hell, some of us even marry."

---

Louis: "Do you think our journey still has a purpose?"

Marlon: "What purpose could be greater than fighting the personification of Death itself?"

Louis: "Oh, I dunno, a nice evening in a bar with friends that don't die in the end?"

---

Louis: "I wonder where all the Nephalim went that lived in this city."

Marlon: "You can see those bones on the ground, right?"

---

Marlon: "Why didn't they send reinforcements from Bramwell or Kingshaven?"

Commander: "Didn't you know? The maidens are attacking every single city from here to Caldeum."

Marlon: "Oh..."

Louis, slightly panicking: "That's all you gotta say?! OH???"

---

Louis: "Leave me alone..."

Marlon: "Stop drowning yourself in liquor. It won't bring your brother back. You should bring that knife to Kenny and find out who killed him."

Louis: "I already know that, it was the goddamn clan of thieves...."

Marlon: "That's only a guess. And that can be dangerous."

Louis: "Listening to you is dangerous!"

---

Clem's mother: "She... has a good heart, my daughter."

Marlon: "What, you didn't want that?"

Clem's mother: "A good heart doesn't help us in these difficult times."

Marlon, looking over his shoulder:

Louis in the background, playing with a little meat golem that he found in the woods

Marlon, looking back at Clem's mother: "That guy over there is still alive and helpful as ever."

Louis: "Hey Marlon! It can give a high-five!"

Marlon: "....Mostly helpful."

---

Marlon: "Only the dead smell this bad. The fallen star has to be close."

Louis: "Funny, I thought that smell came from you."

---

Marlon: "Old Tristram... Diablo's essence still haunts this place, even after all these years."

Louis: "Was it the never ending darkness or the dead people walking around that made you guess that?"

---

Aasim: "How did I not see how corrupt my order is?"

Louis: "We all make mistakes. You just make some more."

Marlon: *elbows him in the gut*

---

Marlon: "Our enemies keep coming, no matter how many of them we kill..."

Louis: "What, are you getting tired?"

Marlon: "Never. I'll kill them all, whatever it takes."

Louis: "Geez, always so serious."

---

Louis: "Pretty aggressive foliage here, hm?"

Marlon, dangling from a few living vines: "Oh, how ever did you guess that?!"

---

Louis: "You know, I'm known as a real philanderer back in King's Haven."

Marlon: "I couldn't care less, Lou. It's not important right now."

Louis: "Of course it is! Women get wild in the apocalypse!"

Marlon: "Sometimes I regret agreeing to your company."

Me: "And the fact that Louis has never touched a woman in his life makes this even more ridiculous."

---

*Marlon and Louis saving a poor peasant from a horde of monsters*

Peasant: "Thank you so much! My wife and I thought we'd be dead for sure!"

Marlon: "You're safe now, no need to be scared."

Peasant: "Please, come with me, my wife wants to thank you too!"

Louis: "You're wife, you say?"

Marlon: *shooting him an annoyed look*

Peasant: "Here, my darling, the two brave men who saved us!"

Marlon: "..."

Louis: "....Are you... seeing what I'm seeing...?"

Marlon: "That is no longer your wife."

Peasant: "She hasn't eaten very much in the past few days, but I still love her!"

Marlon: "Sometimes, love is to let go."

*the woman's head falls off*

Peasant: "Oh, she fell asleep..."

Louis: "If I ever fall asleep that way, throw me to the pigs, it's long overdue."

---

Marlon: "Would you ever robb a grave?"

Louis: "Well, is it really robbing, when the person it belonged to doesn't have any use for it?"

Marlon: *shocked gasp*

Me: "Hold on, mister. We've been running around in this game for months now and you never questioned it when I made you loot a corpse or two or seven at once. You literally broke into so many crypts, I've lost count. And NOW you're wondering if that's a good idea? It never was, no doubt, we got into more trouble than we would've if we'd just let them lay there. But boy, your moral compass is a roulette wheel, if I've ever seen one."

---

Clementine: "We're not that different, you and I. The only difference is, that I can't control my power."

Louis: "Clem, Marlon wears a mullet, I'm not sure if he's able to get properly dressed in the morning."

Marlon: "I'm standing right next to you, you know?"

---

Louis: "So, those are the Halls of Agony. What a charming place."

Marlon: "I hope that was irony."

Louis, sarcastically: "Whaaat, no, I love being impaled by an iron maiden or getting burned by some crazy cultist, that's my favorite thing on saturdays!"

---

Brody: "That man you are traveling with, he has the same aura as a Seraph!"

Marlon: "James. Yeah, he fell from heaven to help us save the world."

Brody: "You are truly blessed with your comrades."

Marlon, looking at Louis: "I am?"

---

Louis: "Treasure might be the finest thing in the world. There's nothing like it!"

Marlon: "You're always talking, aren't you?"

Louis: "It's one of my better qualities."

---

Louis: "I can get you a better bow if you'd like, Clemmy."

Clementine: "By stealing it?"

Louis: "Does it matter?"

Marlon: "Of course it does."

Louis: "How strange."

---

Louis: "What is your deepest wish?"

Aasim: "To serve my order valorously."

Louis: "Oh."

Aasim: "You sound disappointed."

Louis: "My wish is to be incredibly wealthy and surrounded by beautiful women. Yours is simply lacking by comparison."

---

Alright, that was it! Hope y'all like it and have a nice day!

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