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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 5 months

Text

Burns Like Rum

Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav

Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.

Word Count: 7,840 words

Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet

18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock

Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.

The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.

He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.

It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.

But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.

You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.

"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.

Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.

And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.

You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.

"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.

"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.

"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"

You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.

"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"

Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."

She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."

You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."

You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.

It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.

The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.

She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.

"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."

"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.

She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.

You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"

"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.

But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"

"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."

Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.

Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.

He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.

You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."

From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."

He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."

"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.

"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."

You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."

"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.

You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.

Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"

"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.

Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"

"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.

He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.

"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable

"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."

He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.

"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.

Astarion sighed. "...Night."

~❊~

You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.

You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.

"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.

"Stop what?"

"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.

Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"

"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."

You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"

Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."

You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"

"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."

You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.

His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.

"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."

"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"

Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.

"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.

Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.

"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"

"I could go for a little," you said.

Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.

You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.

He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.

"You're starving, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," he whispered.

"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."

Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."

His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"

A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.

Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."

"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.

He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."

~❊~

Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.

You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.

You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."

Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.

He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.

A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"

You nodded. "Just a bit."

Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."

You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.

"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.

He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.

"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"

Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."

Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.

"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.

You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.

It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.

Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"

You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.

The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.

You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.

Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"

You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."

"Are you ready?"

You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.

Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.

One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"

"Please do," you said.

"Arms up."

He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.

"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.

"Yes, dear?"

You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."

He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.

"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.

You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.

"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.

You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"

"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."

Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.

Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.

The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.

"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"

You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.

Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.

Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.

He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.

Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.

Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.

"Look at you," he whispered.

The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.

He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.

He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.

You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.

"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."

You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.

You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.

"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.

He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.

"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.

He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.

"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."

Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.

He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.

You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.

Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.

Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"

"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.

He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."

He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.

You smiled. "There's more where that came from."

Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.

You nodded. "I can take a few more."

He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."

You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."

The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."

He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.

Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.

He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.

"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.

You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."

The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."

You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."

He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."

You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"

Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.

"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.

Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.

You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.

You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.

"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.

He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.

Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.

Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.

The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.

Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.

You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.

But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.

He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"

You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.

"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."

He snorted. "Excuse you!"

"It's all over your face!"

He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."

Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."

He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.

"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.

"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"

Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."

You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.

"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.

You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"

The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.

"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."

He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."

You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.

His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.

His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."

You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."

Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.

"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."

He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.

You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.

When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."

You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."

You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."

He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."

Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.

You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"

~❊~

You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.

Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.

Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.

You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.

You were wrong.

Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.

"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"

You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"

She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"

"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."

She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."

You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.

You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.

Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"

You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"

"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"

You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."

Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.

"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.

Astarion smirked.

"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."

He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.

Karlach squeaked.

"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."

"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."

You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"

Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.

A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.

You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."

Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"

Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"

"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."

"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."

☞ ❊ ☜

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin

part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}

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thebisexualdogdad · 5 months

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One Piece preferences - Their reaction to you bringing home a puppy (GN!reader)

Luffy -

● “Oh my god is that a puppy???”

● immediately becomes obsessed

● holds the puppy up to his face as they lick his nose

● “who's a good dog? You're a good dog, look how cute you are. Guys the crew has a new mascot!!”

● never let's the puppy out of his sight and could play with them for hours

Nami -

● was never an animal person

● is fine being near the puppy but not really affectionate

● took some time for the puppy to grow on her

● but she really does become attached to them

● you even caught her doing the baby talk to them when she thought no one was around

Sanji -

● starts working on a whole meal plan for them

● spends hours cooking them food to make sure they are well fed and gets all the nutrients they need

● the puppy sits by him the entire time he cooks

● and he “drops” scraps from the meals he cooks for the crew

Zoro -

● at first he's not interested in the puppy at all

● pets to him are no better than wild animals

● that was until the puppy crawled into his lap and fell asleep

● then he fell in love and would put his life on the line for that puppy

● “I've only had *insert puppy name* for a day and a half but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then myself”

Usopp -

● first things first, he has to come up with the most epic name for the puppy

● spends a week going through a list of names until he finds the right one

● takes it upon himself to train the puppy so they see him as the captain and teaches the puppy tons of tricks

● plays fetch using his slingshot to launch balls long distances

Shanks -

● is mad because he was planning on surprising you with a puppy first

● carries the puppy around everywhere and treats them like royalty

● gets them acquainted with the crew and the ship so they can go on voyages with you guys

● “and this is where you and I will sleep… oh yeah Y/N will be there too”

Buggy -

● is an unsuspecting dog person

● like he really loves dogs

● “finally! I've wanted to add a dog to the show for years!”

● he's always playing with them and feeding them way too many treats

● makes the crowd cheer extra hard whenever the puppy performs

Mihawk -

● all he says is “you can keep it but I'm not walking it or picking up after it”

#one piece imagine #monkey d luffy imagine #monkey d luffy x reader #nami imagine #nami x reader #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #shanks imagine #shanks x reader #buggy imagine #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk imagine #dracule mihawk x reader #x gender neutral reader #preferences

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You unfortunately let Phoenix talk you into going to the Hard Deck on a night when it was swarming with sailors. And there's only so much that can be done to keep both Bradley and Jake safe during their special mission.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You knew from Bradley's emails that he was flying his mission today, you just weren't sure what time. You only seemed to be able to think about him and Jake, wondering what they were doing and if they were staying safe.

Your wedding was less than two weeks away now, and you were leaving work early to drop off your permits with the county office. That was the last thing you had to do. Your plan was to finish writing your vows and making the photo collage this weekend. Then you'd truly be all set for the wedding, and one of Bradley's gifts would be complete.

Now he just needed to make it back in time so you could pull off the most spectacular surprise of all time, with a little help from Mav.

When you got home, you played with Tramp and argued with Phoenix over text about whether or not you should go to the Hard Deck tonight. It just wasn't the same without Bradley there, but it was even worse now. You knew you were a little antsy, but you wouldn't even be able to tell anyone that it was because your wedding was coming up!

But she got you to agree to go if she picked you up on her way there. So now you were scrambling to get changed into some cutoff shorts, a cute top and your boat shoes before she arrived. You were still eating the sandwich you made and feeding Tramp his dinner when she let herself in the front door.

"You look cute," she said, giving you a look. "That looks like something you'd wear out with Bradley."

"I know," you said between bites of food. "I need to do laundry tomorrow."

Phoenix just sighed. "You sure you don't want to throw on a sweatshirt or one of his massive tees? There's a carrier docking like right now. The bar is going to be swarming with guys."

You just rolled your eyes at her. "This is hardly inappropriate, and it's like a million degrees outside." But now you understood why she was wearing jeans and a baggy shirt. The guys could be a bit relentless when there was a ship in port. "Hey, maybe I can get a free drink," you said with a shrug.

But five minutes into your night, you realized you had made a mistake.

"Why did you bring me here?" you growled at Phoenix as you waited in a massive crowd of people to get a beer. "I could be sitting in my backyard with a drink that I didn't have to physically fight someone for!"

But she just shrugged. "It's not as crowded by the pool table."

After a few more minutes, you groaned and told her, "I just want one fucking beer!"

The guy in front of you turned around and smiled at you, and then you heard him add another beer to his order with Penny.

Your cheeks felt a little warm as he turned around and held a bottle out in your direction. "Here you go, gorgeous. One fucking beer."

You were flustered, not quite sure what to do. So you reached for it, and he pulled it back with a grin. "Just tell me your name first."

"I'm engaged," you responded with an eye roll.

"Wow, that's such a pretty name," he said with a laugh, and you had to keep yourself from laughing at how ridiculous this was becoming.

"I can buy my own beer, but thanks anyway," you told him, trying to push past him to the bar while Nat shoved you from behind.

"You can have it. I don't even mind if you're engaged. I'm only off the carrier for the night," he told you with a smirk. Now that Nat was ordering her drink, you decided to take the free beer from this guy because he was being such an asshole.

"Oh? You don't mind?" you asked with your best attempt at a charming smile.

"Not at all. And my name's Will. You don't need to tell me yours, but I just wanted you to have something to scream later."

You just grimaced at him before putting the bottle to your lips and chugging the entire thing in front of him. He watched with interest as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and leaned past him to slam the empty down on the bartop.

"Well, thanks a lot, Will. The beer was delish. I'll just be going now," you told him, grabbing his hand and holding it up so you could give him an awkward high five.

"I'll be at the pool table," you told Phoenix before turning on your heel and squeezing your way back through the crowd. But you realized Will was following you.

"Hey, wait up! Let's go outside!"

"Seriously?" you mumbled, not sure what else you needed to do to turn this man off to the idea of you. But that's when you spotted the guys playing pool.

"Hey, come on," Fanboy called to you across the table to you. "I need a partner."

But you reached Coyote first and wrapped your arms around his waist right as he was saying hi to you. "Oh, hey," he said with a laugh, patting you on the back. "It's nice to see you, too."

"There's a guy," you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder. "He bought me a beer and I accepted it when I really shouldn't have. Oh shit, he's still coming! I thought he'd leave when he saw me with you."

"What guy?" Payback asked, tossing his pool cue down on the table and turning to look.

Will stopped short when he saw you with Coyote, Payback, Fanboy and Bob.

"I thought you were joking about being engaged," he said, holding his hands up. "Since you took the drink."

"She's not joking, man," Coyote said, keeping his arm around your shoulders.

Will just shrugged and said, "Your girl's a tease," before he started to turn away.

But now Payback was starting to look like he wanted to punch the guy, and you felt terrible for letting this happen.

"You want me to pay you for the beer? Fine," you said, digging in your pocket for some cash.

But Payback set down his glass and said in a very calm voice, "We'll consider the drink you bought her a peace offering. Now apologize for calling her a tease, and you can be on your way."

Will looked at him for a minute before turning to you and Coyote. "Sorry." And then he walked back into the crowd.

Just then, Nat strolled up with four beer bottles in her hands. "You guys missed the funniest thing! She got a free drink from some guy who told her he wanted to fuck her even though she said she's engaged!"

You just cradled your head in your hands. "That's what he said to you?" Bob asked, going pink in the face.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Payback snarled, cracking his knuckles.

"Everyone calm down!" you said, pushing away the bottle Phoenix tried to give you and grabbing Payback's hand. "I'm never coming here when there's a carrier making a port of call ever again! And next time we go out, I'm wearing a trash bag."

But soon everyone went about their business again. And you were happy you didn't feel alone when Bradley and Jake were both gone. Fanboy handed you a pool cue, and you joined the game.

-----------------------

Bradley and Jake woke up and did the exact same thing as each other all day long. They showered, ate breakfast, got some fresh air, went over their final flight briefings, ate lunch, and then dressed in their flight suits.

If you had told Bradley then that the day would change so dramatically for just one of them, he would have found it hard to believe. But that's that way things always seemed to go.

"You ready?" he asked Jake who was still getting his helmet bag packed up. "What do you have in there anyway?"

"Mosty snacks," Jake said. "Maybe someday I'll have something a little bit more special inside. What's in yours?"

"Mostly snacks,' Bradley said with a laugh. "And a picture or two." He pulled out a printout of a selfie he had taken of you and him holding Tramp between the two of you in your backyard. Jake looked at it and shook his head with a grin.

"You two thinking about having kids?" he asked, putting his helmet on.

Bradley laughed. "If I had it my way, she would already be pregnant."

"Yeah," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I don't know why I even asked you that. Angel already told me you want kids right away."

Bradley put his helmet on as well, and they both started walking out to the airstrip. "I find it really disturbing that the two of you have 'girl talk' sessions."

Jake scoffed. "You don't seem to mind it when you put your foot in your mouth and I'm there to bail you out, Bradshaw."

Bradley really couldn't argue with that. He loaded into his F/A-18 and started on his safety checks, missing the days from last year when you were on the other end of his radio communications. But he checked in with some faceless voice in the tower, and he listened to Jake do the same. And soon they were airborne, launching off of catapults one and two with Bradley taking the lead position.

Bradley checked in with the Comanche for a radar update, and then soon he and Jake were entering enemy airspace for a mission that should have been a quick in and out again. They would need to conserve all four of their missiles for the mission to be a success, so just knowing a dogfight scenario would come down to guns and flares had Bradley a little wary.

"You all good?" he asked Jake, turning to see him over his right wing.

"All good."

And then it was time to attack, and Bradley fell back into the comfortable way that his mind seemed to take over and keep him calm without the rest of his emotions fighting for dominance. Was he thinking about you? Of course he was, but you were always at the back of his mind. Was he still focusing on what needed to be done with almost exact precision? Yes, because he wanted to stay alive.

"Attack," he informed Jake at just the right moment, and then Jake split off to the right, behind a mountain range and out of sight.

They were in constant radio communication as they each eliminated two perimeter targets, and then Bradley flew along a river while Jake flew parallel to the mountain range. This would put Bradley at the coastline first, but Jake should have been close enough for Bradley to see him.

"Hey Hangman, how far?"

"About twenty miles."

He had no idea how Jake had managed to fall so far behind, but he would make up twenty miles in less than two minutes. However, now Bradley couldn't see him, and he had to make a decision about lingering for his wingman or conserving his fuel.

Bradley punched back on the throttle, easing his speed back. He kept checking his mirrors and turning around to look for the telltale glimmer of the dying sunlight on the canopy of Jake's aircraft. It wasn't easy to catch unless you were looking for it.

But he waited, checking in with the carrier a few times, when finally, he saw what he hoped was Hangman.

"Out over the water," Jake told him. "Coming in hot."

"Copy," Bradley replied, throttling back up to his previous speed. He made sure both he and Jake were cleared for landing and then went down first, hooking the tow line, and waiting for the deck crew team to pull his aircraft safely to the side, making room for Jake to land.

Bradley was just opening his canopy when he saw Jake buzz the tower, which was very unlike him. Then he heard Jake say, "Complete engine failure," through the radio in his helmet before it cut out.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bradley asked the ground crew as he scrambled down the ladder. But everyone was frozen in place, awaiting instructions. The intercom started blaring over the deck, and Bradley ripped his helmet off just as Jake brought his jet around again.

It was too late to get the barricades ready if he was truly in full engine failure, and it was also impossible for Jake to get enough altitude to eject.

"Fuck," Bradley whispered as Jake came down at a strange angle that made him cringe and cover his mouth. It sounded like he had lost both engines, and trying to get onto the deck was the only option.

Bradley stood back with the deck crew as they raised an additional cable to try to catch the tail hook. But he knew the angle was too extreme, and Bradley watched in horror as Jake hit the deck a little too hard before skidding over both of the cable lines. Since he had no means to lift off and try for a second landing without his engines, everyone had to watch Jake's aircraft skid the length of the runway and then go careening into the Pacific Ocean.

It felt like someone had sucker punched him, and Bradley sputtered for a few seconds before he started to make a run for the end of the carrier deck. There were crew members everywhere, and even more flooding out of the tower. The closer Bradley got to the end, he was finally able to see Jake's Super Hornet, half sunk in the water sideways. But it was too far away for Bradley to make out where exactly Jake was.

He turned around, trying to find someone who could make sense of what was happening, but it felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. Nobody was moving fast enough to get Jake out of the water before he drowned as the cockpit started taking on water.

Bradley could hear himself screaming out questions that didn't quite make sense even to himself. But nobody was answering him. Before giving it too much thought, he started yanking at the laces of his boots and pulling them off one at a time. Then he was ripping off his gear and unzipping his flight suit, stripping down to just his compression shorts.

The deck was about sixty feet above the water, which should only be marginally painful for Bradley, as long as he jumped straight. Otherwise he would just be creating more problems. But now Jake's aircraft was starting to sink, and he hadn't opened the canopy yet.

So Bradley took a running jump into the freezing cold water to try to save his teammate, only partly because he knew you'd probably never forgive him if there was something he could have done but decided not to.

The water was ice cold, and all of Bradley's skin was burning from the impact as he was sloshed around by the waves as he tried to kick to resurface. He was gasping for air as soon as he broke the surface, and then he was off and swimming as fast as he could toward the F/A-18 that was mostly underwater.

When he reached the cockpit, he could tell it was still sealed. But then he saw that Jake was fighting against the water pressure to get the canopy open. The further underwater the plane sank, the harder it would be to open it. Bradley took a deep breath and went under, pounding on the canopy until he had Jake's attention. He needed Jake to open all the latches, and then he could try to help him pull it open.

Jake was scrambling with the last latch, and Bradley went back up for another breath of air. This time, when he went under, he planted his feet against the metal panel and pulled as Jake pushed. The cockpit immediately took on water as soon as they opened it just a few inches. He watched Jake get soaked and hit in the face with a wave of salt water, but then it became a little easier to pry the canopy open a few feet.

As Jake started to squeeze through the opening, the Super Hornet started sinking in earnest. Bradley knew getting Jake to the surface in his gear would be the hardest part of this entire disaster, so he pushed himself up to the surface for one more good breath of air.

This time his lungs were burning as he dove down deeper, his hands connecting with some part of Jake's flight suit before he pushed off of the metal with both feet. He was kicking for everything he was worth, trying to keep a good hold on Jake's arm or leg. But Bradley's lungs were on fire. He could barely stand the pain. He was starting to lose his vision as he kicked harder and harder. He hoisted Jake over his head and pushed him to the surface, letting himself float up as his limbs gave out.

When Bradley felt the cold air hit his face, he opened his eyes, suddenly alert again. Jake's body was refusing to float from the weight of the soaking wet flight suit, and his eyes were closed. Bradley got his fingers on Jake's neck to find his pulse and made sure he still had a strong heartbeat, then he grabbed him under both armpits and kicked relentlessly to keep him above water.

And thank god there was finally a diving crew jumping in now. Bradley kicked until he heard a woman telling him to stop, and that she had him while another diver had a hold on Jake. Bradley sank back into her grip, letting himself go boneless. And eventually they were all being raised back up to the deck where Bradley finally realized exactly how fucking freezing cold he was.

Someone bundled him in blankets while he watched Jake's flight suit being cut off of him. "Oh, fuck," Bradley whispered, dropping to his knees on the airstrip and staring at the surreal scene in front of him. Jake's forehead was bleeding profusely and his lips were blue from the temperature of the water. But at least his eyes were open, and then he rolled onto his side and started coughing up water.

Bradley sat quietly on the deck for a moment, but when a smile broke out on Jake's face, he couldn't help but smile too.

"Well, that fucking sucked," Jake sputtered as he rolled onto his back again.

Bradley laughed. "You scared the shit out of me, man."

"You're insane," Jake said quietly. "Angel is going to be so mad."

-------------------------

You were exhausted and irritable by the time Phoenix dropped you back off at home. Your night had been terrible right off the bat. You shouldn't have accepted the beer from that guy just to try to get under his skin. You really hated guys like that, the ones who couldn't take the hint when a girl wasn't interested in them.

You brushed your teeth and got changed for bed, leaving your glasses on your nightstand before lifting Tramp up into bed with you. Should you start a new pill pack? You had been looking at it sitting next to the bed for the past few days. If you didn't take it now, your cycle would be a mess if you changed your mind in a few days. But if you didn't take a pill and also didn't change your mind... well, you were ready now.

You tossed your unopened birth control pills into your nightstand drawer, next to your new necklace charm and a stack of paper airplanes. Bradley had been telling you for months, ever since you thought you might have gotten pregnant in La Jolla, that he was ready when you were. That it was up to you.

You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. Sometimes the pain you felt from missing Bradley was as much physical as mental, and right now, your body was aching. It almost felt like you'd been out in the sun too long after getting bashed by ocean waves. You felt stiff and achy and uncomfortable. You were trying not to think about the fact that you had no idea what was going on with Bradley and Jake's mission. But you supposed no news was good news, at least as far as a deployment special mission was concerned.

So you turned off your lamp and snuggled up with Tramp, spinning your engagement ring on your finger and reminding yourself that Bradley would be back soon with Jake in tow. Hopefully just in time for your perfect, surprise wedding.

----------------------

Too much excitement! Holy shit. And how's Bradley going to feel about Baby Girl discreetly going off birth control?

PART 17

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

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not-goldy · 17 days

Note

it’s no wonder Baekhyun's kfans are this deranged. he feeds into their delusions and he’s not even subtle about it. you get the fans you deserve. Him and Jungkook are the same. They sell parasocial relationships hard and it's gonna bite them in their ass one day. Weird cause these two have the talent in both singing and dancing, can't y'all just sell music instead.

I saw this comment under a pannchao post and most kpop fans and army agree to it. This is why I don't feel anything when JK is dragged through mud for some dating rumors. He's the one who fuels gf×bf dynamics with his fans, he's the one who deny having partner and only having army as his gf, he's the one who goes overboard with fanservice while other idols nor bts members does the same even if they do the same job as him, so obviously he's gonna get the fruit of it 🤷‍♀️ Do he think he can fool the f out of his fans and then have a peaceful dating life ? Either you draw clear borders with fans or you don't date.. as simple as that. It's even funnier when whole world can see what's happening while there's shippers who thinks he's dating his bandmate😭 even delulu than y/ns. I don't think anyone with self respect can be in a commited relationship with JK when all he does is sex chatting with his fans in lives and satisfy their Para social bf needs. And i think Jimin has more than enough self respect to be with a person like him.

I nearly agreed with you until you name dropped Jungkook.

I agree in part because I hate the fact these straight idols hide their Relationships when they have the privilege of dating openly without being persecuted unlike queer couples.

But leave Jungkook out of this please.

cos this same Jungkook is the one who nearly threw a fist when Armies would call him baby. Same person who squares up with his fans when they tell him they don't like content he puts out on live. He just shrugs and says well I like it.

Same Jungkook who got a tattoo and keeps adding to it knowing his fans hate it, not only that he also got pierced against their will and when he was told they hated long hair he went ahead and grew it out.

While you're out here claiming he panders to his fans there are several ex Jungkook stans who hate him because they claim he is a shitty idol who only does what he likes and doesn't care what his fans like.

Same person who was told by his members he had to post for each members birthdays because the fans were not happy he wasn't yet he didn't post any way.

Same person who's life motto is that he'd rather be dead than cool.

How do you reconcile these two things???

Same person who went to Itaewon during lockdown and wouldn't apologize because "IT WAS HIS PERSONAL LIFE" had it not been the fact others had died from covid and the sensitive nature of the issue he wouldn't have apologized at all.

He can't be tagged a carefree rebellious nonconformist idol while also seen as a fan-ass-kisser at the same time. Yall would have to choose a narrative and stick with it.

Personally I believe him when he says anything.

If he doesn't have a girlfriend it's because HE DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. yall jx not willing to stomach the fact. You are just like Tuktukkers istg.

Out of all BTS the one person who wouldn't give a flying fuck fans reaction when he's in a relationship IS JUNGKOOK. YALL WILL NOT MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR LIKING WHAT OR WHO HE LIKES.

Even in our ship narratives we have this running theory that dudes always on the edge of the glass ceiling ready to shatter it to pieces but for consideration of Jimin. Even with that, every now and then he outs the dude.

He could have covered his bite marks or lied about it being an insect bite or pimle but dude just said naa that was Jimin. He be in my neck most times.

So we jokers see Jungkook waaaay differently from how yall see him. He is a complex living being not a one dimensional creature like you paint him out to be.

Fan service is part of Kpop. ALL IDOLS ENGAGE IN FAN SERVICE TO VARYING DEGREES. he's not the devil for doing fan service and while you think he doesn't have a sense of boundaries with it HE DOES. ITS JUST NOT THE BOUNDARIES YOU WISH HE HAD. SAY THAT AND GO.

ALL IDOLS TREAT THEIR FANS AS THEIR GFS AND BFS. ITS THE MONEY BLUE PRINT. ITS THEIR MARKETING STRATEGY.

AND YES, SINCE PORTRAYING THEMSELVES AS A AVAILABLE AND DOTTING ON FANS IS HOW THEY KEEP THE LOYALTY OF THEIR FANS THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY LIE ABOUT THEIR DATING LIFE. I WOULD TOO IF I WERE AN IDOL.

But that doesn't mean whenever they say they are single its a lie💀💀💀💀💀💀

They are not always in a relationship.

That doesn't also mean they are all afraid to admit the truth about their relationship status. It depends on their age, how long they've been an idol and the level of success they've attained. A new idol on the scene obviously would be committing career suicide while a veteran couldn't give a fuck.

So when you talk of young Kook starting out his career I'd understand. He was subject to the control of his company and had to deny his relationships because at that stage he'd be risking much. But this Jungkook don't care I promise you. HE DON'T CARE BOUT YALLS FEELINGS ESPECIALLY AS HIS FANS ARE GROWING WITH HIM AND ARE AT THE SAME AGE AS HIM.

Also, some idols JUST don't CARE and would readily admit it if the person they are with is the one AND THEY LOVE THEM. you seem to forget that part.

It makes no sense to claim a partner and risk your whole career for a fling or someone you don't like like that can you be for real for once in your life?

Wait- ever think about that?

Normal people do this too. What's the expression, don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband or wife 🤭

We deny relationships all the time if we aren't serious about the people we are with. Or if we aren't sure where we stand with the person.

It doesn't make us evil and idols are just like us. Not every single person they messing around with is WORTH CLAIMING at all.

Which is what I've been saying for years, that if an idol is denying a relationship its usually because that relationship, fling or whatever isn't worth them claiming or risking their careers for.

If they are with someone they truly loved and revered denying them would be the last and the hardest thing they'll do and eventually theyll stop apologing for it, they grow out of their concerns for their careers, become mature and own up to it.

I keep telling my ladies, if a man keeps hiding you, if a man refuses to post you on his socials HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT AND YOU'RE PROBABLY A SIDE PIECE TO HIS SIDE PIECE. DROP THE DUSTIE, LOVE YOURSELVES AND BREAK UP WITH HIM PRONTO.

Yall are mad these idols aren't claiming the imaginary girlfriends you want them to have.

Yall mad they aren't claiming the insignificant placeholders in their beds 🤣

Like leave them alone.

If the coochie is worth fighting for someone like Jungkook WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUT UP A FIGHT. IVE SEEN HIM RISK A LOT MORE FOR A MAN YALL CLAIM IS HIS FATHER- OR WAS IT MOTHER😵

SURELY HE SHOULD HAVE NO QUALMS FIGHTING FOR YALLS QUEENS IF HE'S WITH EM🤭

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gunpowderdtim · 2 months

Note

could i possibly please hear your marius backstory hc? no pressure ofc

boy am i glad you asked.

Byron, as per "canon", grew up on a planet with poor nutrition, poor everything really, with his sister, Dorothea, and his parent. (menntioned by kofi once)

Dorothea and Byron spent their time, when not experiencing the horrors, poking around ruins, trying not to die, and to scavenge what they can from the relics left behind by the long-crumbled ancient society of some sort.

(Very memory of water, if any of you have read that book)

One day, Byron and Dorothea stumble across an entrance to some sort of old science facility, or warehouse, or perhaps hangar is the best word.

And together, they discover Kismet, Fate, (or, more pertinently within my mechs canon, fate in the matter that a story has its written ending.) - and Byron begins piloting it.

A sword in a stone, one might say.

Arthur.

When Arthur got his railgun, that started his destiny.

Byron did not have a military grade gun.

Byron had Kismet.

Now what is Kismet?

A gundam, a mecha, a giant fucking humanoid robot vehicle that Byron then pilots to do plot things.

What sort of plot things? Exactly what doesn't particularly matter, only that Byron did not stop.

He just kept on fucking going. Until he couldn't. That sounds sort of familiar, huh?

Like Hercules.

[Zeus's] favourite trick is to offer [his bastard children] a place in the family, contingent on the completion of a suicide mission or two. Most barely last a week, but Heracles? Heracles is too mean, too tough, and too stupid to stop. So he just keeps going.

Now, Kismet eventually will crash, with Byron inside, but thats to discuss later, for now, lets ask another question:

How does Kismet operate?

To me, Kismet is made of a very familiar metal - the sort, that we may know, "hums like a far off chant"

(the sort of metal i think all Mechanisms are made of, a far off chant, you say? like a song?)

And how, i may offer, do machines of metal like that operate?

His name is Kvasir, a low level member of the Midgardian resistance, but that doesn't matter. What matters is the dozen tubes and feed lines plugged into his veins, pumping blood through the arcane glyphs and blood channels and gears and sigils that line the chamber. The metal is the same as that which makes the track, and it hums like a far off chant.

Blood. Blood that runs through channels, the life force of the user, hoooking them into the heart of the machine to feed it, to regulate it.

(We know the mechanisms are likely powered off void. They shimmer rainbow when damaged.)

Byron is Kismet's pilot, and, i would imagine, there has to me a mechanism of sort to pilot it, pilot fate, to me, i envision a cuff around his arm, with veins of metal snaking up his veins, sapping his blood, drop by drop, to power the machine.

Byron is the heart, in the center of machine, who needs hearts blood when you act as it? He controls Kismet with a cuff around his arm He is its pilot.

He steers fate.

Thor begins pulling levers and throwing switches seemingly at random, causing the glyphs and channels to move and warp their constellations.

Byron, most likely, pulls the wrong lever.

Kismet crashes.

And Byron becomes it.

Or it becomes Marius.

The cuff stops being around his arm, starts being his arm, fusing into his body, his bones, becoming it, becoming him, and Byron becomes something else altogether.

Byron Von Raum once piloted Kismet.

Kismet is now piloting Marius.

What is the relationship between parasite and host? What is the relationship between pilot and ship? What is the relationship between Mechanism, and the body a mechanism 'enhances'?

What is the relationship between a story, and its ending?

#marius von raum #the mechanisms #the mechs #asks #the amount of narratomancy i can shove into this guy is INSANEEEEE

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sailoryooons · 6 months

Text

Carmen | pjm x kth (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Jimin x Human!Taehyung

☾ Summary: Taehyung gets lured to an exclusive club by a strange, enchanting woman. What finds him there is much more intoxicating and dangerous.

☾ Word Count: 10,277

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Hypnotized/compelled decisions and thoughts, implied manipulation, Taehyung is influenced a lot by the natural power/allure of vampires and it scatters his thoughts/makes him do things he normally wouldn’t, depictions of blood, intimidation, The Vibes Are Off, light depictions of anxiety, vampires showing off humans like pets sort of, biting/marking/bruising, explicit language, explicit sexual content, not using lube, spit play/using spit as lube, light degradation, blood play/drinking, rough sex, overstimulation, oral (m. receiving), hand jobs, ass play, a lot of feelings and sensations, mentions of fear during sex, references to subspace, feeling overwhelmed during sex, crying, power dynamics but not explicitly dom/sub, blood lust, feeding frenzy, feelings of terror, Jimin calls Taehyung ‘Carmen’ sometimes - it makes sense in context, Taehyung is lured to the vampire den, implied obsessive themes (no stalking or anything), hair pulling, voyeurism, scenes of carnage and like a feed frenzy, terror at the end of fucking, idk its a vampire coven and Taehyung realizes whats happening at the very end so.

☾ Published: October 27, 2023

☾ A/N: Happy Halloween to my baby bat @gimmethatagustd. I love you eternally, and I hope that we live a long and immortal life together. Please accept this as my love for you and I hope I am actually with you when this drops so that you can start screaming at me for hiding the fact that this fic was for you the entire time sofidjfogidjf. Also, Happy Early Birthday. I love you so much it’s actually disgusting and I need to be institutionalized. LARGELY UNEDITED SORRY.

☾ A/N 2: If mem x mem isn't your thing - literally just don't read it. It is that easy. This is not me being a shipper - it is fiction and I do not believe in shipping people in a real-life setting. Thanks.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Tag List | Song Inspiration | BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween Collab

The boys, the girls They all like Carmen -Carmen, Lana Del Ray

Taehyung knows the woman at the back of the lounge wants to take him home before his first song is over. He’s become better at picking them out early. Of course, most of the men and women want to take Taehyung home, especially when starts singing the slower, romantic ballads. He can see the way they sigh, melting in their seats a little, eyes wide and mouth open.

It’s hard to pinpoint what makes his eyes keep straying back to her. She is beautiful, to be sure, but something is pressing in Taehyung’s mind as he starts his set, drawing his eyes back to her. Like an invisible hand guiding him each time, reminding him that she is there and watching.

She stares at him with a pinpoint focus, her dark eyes tracking Taehyung on the stage as he walks slowly, mic in hand and singing the notes softly. His eyes keep drifting back to her, trying to make out her features. All he can garner is that her eyes are alluring and even from a distance, she emanates something. Huger. Power.

It makes his stomach flip. Taehyung likes those who want him, but he loves those who crave him. Usually, it’s the men who are hungry enough for Taehyung to chase him. To go after what they want. To whisper pretty compliments until Taehyung is so lavished in attention that he goes home with them.

The woman at the back of the room looks like she can charm him - will charm him. It makes his lips turn upward as he croons softly into the mic, feeling the music of the band behind him swell, jazzy notes drifting.

He loves this. His mother told him that he was born to sing. Her little songbird. His mother is dead now, but he lives on through each velvet note, warm voice pouring over the patrons who watch him with dazed expressions.

Taehyung feels powerful this way. He could lead them all around the room, he’s sure of it. He could get them up, one by one, and lead them straight into destruction. He’s sure of it.

Except for that woman at the back of the room, whose presence scrambles Taehyung’s thoughts. He finds it hard to perform, her presence like a weighted stone on his thoughts at all times. He nearly messes up the words to a few songs he is so enchanted.

Still, he does well. La Vie is one of Taehyung’s favorite places to perform. The clientele is high-end, the staff likes to give him free food and drink along with a decent amount of cash for his performances, and he’s growing a steady income here.

The only problem with La Vie is that its clientele are often repeat customers, and Taehyung has grown weary of seeing the same faces he’s taken to bed already. The faces who think they own him now, who think that just because they’ve had a taste, they can have a fit whenever his eyes stray in another direction.

And his eyes do stray.

In the middle of his set, Taehyung takes a cool sip of water while the band plays a fast tune. He nods his head, feeling the rhythm and snapping his fingers. The stage lights are low but he feels the heat through his long-sleeved shirt and slacks, sweat dripping down the back of his neck slowly like a phantom finger.

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung can see Constantine staring. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he feels the sudden flash of irritation, the urge to curl his lip in annoyance. Constantine is the exact problem that Taheyung has with La Vie, except that he’s the one who got Taehyung the gig - and the manager.

Taehyung’s throat tightens as he walks back to the stage to finish the last half of the set. The last of the songs are slower, dreamy romantic songs meant to soften the crowd before they dismiss from the lounge for the evening. The sooner he ends the show, the sooner he’ll have to field Constantine’s seeking questions and fawning.

It presents a problem if Taehyung wants to talk to the woman at the back of the room.

He decides not to think about it too much. Instead, he closes his eyes and sings his way through the rest of the song, voice carrying old jazz classics and his own written music. Some people would call his smooth voice haunting. Others call it hypnotizing. Taehyung doesn’t know where he stands on the subject, and he doesn’t care so much. He just likes to sing and he likes people who watch him sing. Who listen.

There are those who come to his performances at high-end restaurants and lounges to watch him, and those who come to hear him. He prefers those who like to hear him, but any will do at the end of the night when he wants to roll around satin sheets and drink rich wine that he doesn’t have the pallet for.

When he sings the final note of the night, it hangs in the air. This is one of Taehyung’s favorite moments of each night. It’s the last breath before his spell is broken, a moment frozen in time where all eyes are on him, the crowd so entranced that it takes a long pause for them to realize he’s finished.

The brief silence is chased with thunderous applause and people standing. He grins, feeling his chest swell with pride, blood sizzling in his veins as he bows low at the waist. He’s one of the few artists who can get this stiff, rich crowd to stand and cheer, and he knows it.

He steps to the side and gestures to his band, the applause continuing as they each stand and bow. Though most people might feel tired after a performance, Taehyung is buzzing. He feels the adrenaline pumping through him, and after he steps down from the stage and polishes off ice-cold water, he immediately wants something harder to keep the buzz going.

Drinks wait for him on the bar top. It’s crowded at La Vie but people make room for him at the bar. An original speakeasy from the prohibition era, it’s low-ceiling and dimly lit, offering a romantic and mysterious air hanging in the room. Taehyung places a folded wad of bills into a glass tip jar, saluting Yoongi behind the bar. The bartender nods, gracious for the tip and a confirmation that the glasses of neat are on the house.

Taehyung knocks back the first glass. The whiskey burns down his throat. He hisses as it goes, feeling the sting in his nasal passage. He blows out a slow breath and grins to himself, pausing before he sips the next drink to shake hands with a string of patrons complimenting him.

None of them catch his eye the way the woman at the back of the room has, though. Taehyung sees lingering looks from husbands and wives and smirks at a group of giggling women who are shy and blushing and biting their lips as they compliment him, and he feels a slight spike of irritation when Constantine takes the stool next to him.

Instead of speaking to him, Taehyung focuses on sipping the drink. It’s smooth and perfect, with a hint of orange rind that Yoongi probably burned and waved around the glass. Taehyung looks up to see the bartender cast Constantine a pitying glance before making another drink.

“You sang well tonight,” Constantine prods. “You have such a way with the crowd.”

“Well, I supposed that’s my job.” Taehyung’s comment comes out flat. He glances at Constantine from the corner of his eye to see that he’s frowning.

Taehyung is full of mistakes, but letting the manager of La Vie fuck him is by far one of his biggest. He usually has a rule that he doesn’t fuck the people who can interfere with his work, but he made an exception.

Constantine is beautiful, but a bit of a fool. He inherited La Vie from a long line of family members who have kept it running, and it’s through long-term patronage and reputation alone that it’s lasted this long. Well, that and his two only successful ventures in hiring Yoongi as his main bartender who doubles as his piano player on weeknights, and Taehyung as the late-night performances most evenings.

People don’t come to La Vie because it’s well-kept or because of Constantine’s good business acumen. They come because they want to hear Yoongi play and then watch him behind a bar all night, sweat running down his neck, dark eyes always filled with a potential promise of more. They don’t get it, of course. Yoongi doesn’t sleep around as Taehyung does, but still, the bartender and pianist is loved and lusted after by most of the patrons.

Then there’s Taehyung. The warm opposite of Yoongi’s distant, unattainable beauty. Taehyung is full of life, accepting praise greedily, willing to flirt his way through free drinks and extra tips, especially if it lands him in the bed of someone he has been eyeing all night.

Until he broke his rule for Constantine. Pretty Constantine, who said that he was on the same page and that sleeping with Taehyung would be a casual thing. Perhaps it’s Taehyung’s fault for not seeing how mystified the lounge manager was after that first night tangled in sweaty sheets followed by a hot shower the next morning.

Now, he’s between a rock in a hard place. Offend Constantine and risk being ousted. Keep letting him take Taehyung to bed, and he’ll never escape.

“Your eyes are beautiful tonight,” Constantine murmurs, dipping his head to catch Taehyung’s attention. “I’d bet they’d look even better rolling in-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” a dark, feminine voice cuts in. “But I couldn’t resist introducing myself.”

The hair stands up on the back of Taehyung’s neck. He knows it’s the woman who watched him from the back of the room before he even turns around. When he does, he is mystified. Her eyes are lined heavily in kohl and her eyes are dark as a storm sea, pinning him to his place with their intensity. Her skin is umber and smooth, her face so flawless it leaves Taehyung reeling.

There is something uncanny about her. Taehyung can’t put his finger on it. Her eyes are narrow and sharp, her lips plump and breaking into a slow, knowing smile. She looks like the cat who ate the canary, tilting her head to the side as she continues to examine Taehyung with a feline-like gaze.

“My name is Evangeline.” She reaches out a small, smooth hand. Her nails are filed into a point and painted a wine red. For a moment, Taehyung has the silliest thought that they look like the color of blood as he shakes her hand. He’s surprised at how cold they are, his palms tingling when she lets go. “I have not heard someone sing Ella Fitzgerald like that since… well, perhaps Ella Fitzgerald.”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, a little confused. “Do you have Ella hidden somewhere that you can listen to her sing whenever you desire?”

“Would that I could. But that’s what… oh what is that spot app, again?”

“Spotify?”

Evangeline grins, revealing wicked, blindingly white teeth. “Spotify, yes. That little intricacy does quite a good job at catching the sound of old artists, but there is nothing like it live.”

Evangeline’s voice is like velvet. Even Constantine goes silent next to Taehyung, staring up at the woman as she slides next to Taehyung. She leans against the bar close enough that he gets the barest hint of scent like jasmine and amber.

A shiver slides through him as she sips a glass of the darkest wine Taehyung’s ever seen. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth when he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I know most of the patrons by heart.”

“You wouldn’t have. I have not been to La Vie in a long time.”

Taehyung realizes that she speaks with a specific articulation that hints at an accent. He can’t place it, but it’s like the sweetest music to his ears. “You’ll have to come more often, perhaps.”

“That eager to see me again?”

“I like to pride myself on repeat customers coming to hear me. It would be a shame to know you didn’t find my performance compelling enough to see another.”

“Hmm. Pride isn’t very becoming.”

Taehyung bites his lower lip, trying to hide the smile. “Spoken like a woman who can relate.”

Evangeline is quick-witted. The rest of the world seems to fade as Taehyung talks to her. It’s strange - he cannot remember what the conversation is about, and he can’t remember Constantine leaving. He doesn’t even recall the patrons leaving the bar until it’s just Yoongi wiping down the counters, eyeing Taehyung wearily as he says goodbye, following the woman out of the door.

Blood rushes through Taehyung’s veins. It’s cold outside, winter fogging his breath. His skin tingles with the sudden temperature change, muted by the soft glow of alcohol in his system. He looks up at the sky, hot breath fogging as he inhales deeply, filling his lungs with that sharp air.

Something about being drunk in the middle of the night during winter is magical. He can’t explain it, feeling himself smile as he drops his gaze back down to the woman next to him. For a second, he swears her face is sharper than he remembers, a look so hungry in his eyes that it makes his pulse skip.

When he blinks, she’s smirking at him, tilting her head. Taehyung realizes he is drunk, but he craves Evangeline. Wants to hear the way that dark voice of her pants against him, wants to feel her sharp nails on his skin, raking down-

“Have you ever been to the opera house on ninth?”

Taehyung pauses at her question. He feels his brows furrow as his drunk thoughts turn from thoughts of kissing Evangeline to puzzling out her question. “That exclusive club that was made out of the old opera house? What’s it called again…”

“Sanguine.”

He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Sanguine. No, I haven’t. It’s by invitation only and it’s the most exclusive club in the city. I hear it’s open all hours, though.”

“It is.”

“Wait, are you a member?”

Evangeline sticks her hand out. Taehyung meets her gaze and it feels like he falls forward into it. All thoughts fade from his mind. There is no sound, save that of a high-pitched ringing. Everything but the glowing, otherworldly woman has faded to the back. He only sees her.

Taehyung lifts his hand, but he doesn’t remember thinking about doing it. He places it in hers, and she laces their fingers. Her hands are bitterly cold, but she doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t either, skin tingling, gaze heavy on her as she tugs him along.

“Want to see it?”

He can’t form words. Suddenly feels like he can’t remember how. He nods his head instead, following her. His first few steps feel heavy and he stumbles like he has had far more to drink than he remembers. Normally, it might be cause for alarm, but Taehyung is unbothered as they walk, Evangeline’s eyes pulling him along as she walks backward.

The world passes by but Taehyung doesn’t remember it. He is somewhat aware that his cheeks and nose are sticking with cold and that his eyes are watering from the temperature. He tilts his head upward, a little dazed and confused about where he is until he sees the golden glow of the opera house.

Sanguine. It is a massive building of white stone and ornate pillars. The architecture confuses him, a blend of Greco-Roman pillars and gargoyles he’d expect to find in a gothic church. The building is a wonderous feat of dark windows, ornate carvings in the stonework, and height.

“The gargoyles are a bit terrifying,” Taehyung announces, staring at them fixated on top of the portico over the entryway. “Why the gargoyles?”

“Some lessons are hard to learn.”

Suddenly, Taehyung can’t take his eyes off of them. The two snarling beasts seem to be a bad omen and he finds himself frozen to the spot, forgetting all about the woman next to him or the invitation to see the exclusive inside of the most prestigious clubs in the city. All he knows is that suddenly, a feeling like doom has tiptoed up his back to rest on his shoulder.

Taehyung takes a step back. The gargoyles look so much more like people when he stares at them. Twisted humanoids, crouched while screaming at the sky, showing fangs. His heart beats so hard that he feels his pulse in his throat, panic welling up inside of him, ready to spill out and overflow.

“I’m drunk,” he blurts. “I should go home. I-”

Evangeline’s cold hands grab Taehyung’s face and pull him down to her. Her lips are pressed against his and he doesn’t remember what he was worried about. His heart speeds up for different reasons now, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into her kiss, his hands going to her hips to pull her in closer.

She tastes like dark wine and something else - a bit like iron and salt. The kiss is slow and dizzying and when she pulls away, Taehyung is eager to follow her into the dark halls of the opera house.

The lobby is dark inside. No light comes through the windows, leaving Taehyung in a complete abyss as Evangeline shuts and bolts the door behind him. A tingle slithers up Taehyung’s spine when she bolts the door and he suddenly feels like he’s never going to leave the opera house again.

A soft din of voices and music trails to him from the doors leading to the main theater. Evangeline takes his hand and leads up toward the door. He still feels dizzy from the kiss, willing to follow her wherever she goes.

For now, that’s the main seating area of the theater. She pulls open the heavy door, the rush of gentle voices and piano hitting him. Leading him through the door, Taehyung blinks as his eyes adjust from complete darkness to low light. It’s so dim that it takes him a moment to make out anything at all, eyes drifting up toward a massive chandelier with flickering, gold bulbs.

The inside of the theater is like nothing Taehyung has ever seen. It has been transformed into a massive lounge with a wooden bar on the far right, manned by two bartenders. Velvet couches, chaise lounges and chairs are placed around the main floor, groups of people dressed in formal wear and dripping with jewels draping themselves over the furniture.

Everything screams opulence. The interior still has the same baroque, elegant beauty that seems like the original design, mixed with the new additions like the bar and furniture. On the stage is a piano, a young woman playing with her eyes closed, and a cluster of people around her, gazing at her with what Taehyung can only describe as hunger.

Evangeline leads him into the room. He feels the eyes on them as they go, glancing around nervously to realize that there is an odd mix of people in the room. There are those dressed formally in draping gowns and tuxedos, all of whom are unnaturally beautiful. Taehyung finds that his brain buzzes when he looks at them, each individual otherworldly and… cold.

The other groups of people look like Taehyung. Starry-eyed and dressed in varying degrees of plain clothes. He wonders if they are guests as well, people brought into the fold by elegant patrons like Evangeline.

Trepidation settles deep in Taehyung’s gut as Evangeline takes him to the bar and orders him a drink. He is tired, eyes heavy and worn at the edges. The momentary surge of adrenaline after she kissed him is wearing off, and Taehyung feels the layer of dizziness slipping off, replaced by anxiety.

In an attempt to take the edge off, he sips his drink. Evangeline begins introducing him to groups of people, linking her arms with his and pulling him around the room. Taehyung gives her friends a dazzling smile, though he is overwhelmed by the dark eyes that meet his. The cold handshakes. The almost predatory way that the others smile at him.

He cannot pinpoint what about the crowd is making him nervous, but as Evangeline tells someone about his singing ability, Taehyung realizes that she’s bragging. Showing him off. Pulling him around the room and gesturing to him with words like look what I found and isn’t he just darling?

Normally, Taehyung preens with pride under the compliments and the pretty words. He loves it when people are enthralled by him, swept away by his talents. Now, something about it feels off. They don’t look at him with wonder on their faces and awe in their eyes- they coo at him. Look at him like they want to eat him whole. Like he is something they can possess.

Only one person introduces himself and looks at Taehyung curiously instead of with lecherous intent. “Hoseok,” he says, shaking Taehyung’s hand. It’s firm and cold. “What do you like to sing?”

It’s the only time he’s been asked a question tonight. Hoseok is hauntingly beautiful, with dark eyes, a slim nose, and cheekbones that seem carved by Strazza. He is dazzling to look at, and Taehyung’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he says, “Jazz, mostly. Sometimes classical, but that was mostly in my younger days in school.”

“Divine.” Hoseok’s gaze slides to Evangeline. “You know he’s… his type.”

“Well, he didn’t find him.”

Taehyung doesn’t know who he is and he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The pianist on stage stops playing and Evangeline takes Taehyung’s hand, pulling him toward the stage. “Come on,” she gushes. “Let them hear you.”

He lets himself be pulled. Taehyung feels a coil of nerves in his stomach as she yanks him on stage and pushes him to the middle. The room quiets when they see them and Evangeline claps her hands, drawing the full attention of the lounge.

There’s no spotlight, but Taehyung feels hot under the weighted gaze. Again, his instinct tingles, trying to make him aware of something. He just doesn’t know what. He shoves down the feeling and tucks his hands into his pockets, giving a shy grin as Evangeline talks about his voice.

The crowd of patrons lean in a little when she steps off the stage. Their gazes are sharp as razors and he can’t help but feel like a shy lamb among a pack of wolves.

Licking his dry lips, he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly, unsure of where to look. Evangeline stands near the side of the stage, not a great point of attention as he sweeps his gaze out into the room. He fixes his eyes on the glowing red exit sign above the door and opens his mouth, taking in a deep breath before he starts a slow Sinatra number.

His voice carries over the hushed silence, deep and swelling. He smiles a little as he sings, watching the face go from hungry to mystified. The whole room seems to lean in, people from the back moving toward the stage, drawn in by him.

Taehyung goes right into the next song, feeling his anxiety melt away. His audience is wrapped around his finger, their eyes following him as he trails around the stage, more engaged. He makes eye contact with some of them, still flinching internally at the sheer darkness of their eyes, but still singing nonetheless.

When Taehyung finishes, the room erupts into gentle clapping and whispered praise. He feels pride well up inside of him, flushing with pleasure as he bows at the waist, grinning under the sweet applause. He stands up and starts walking toward Evangeline, who looks at him with a smile like the sun. His heart beats a little faster, grinning widely as she claps for him excitedly and-

“Sing another.”

Taehyung realizes the room is silent. The hairs on his arms stand on end and it feels like the air gets sucked out of the room suddenly. Evangeline’s eyes flash silver for a moment, but when Taehyung recoils and blinks, they’re back to normal, though she looks put out as she steps back from Taehyung.

Slowly, Taehyung turns to look at the edge of the stage at the owner of the soft voice and his world stops. Whoever this man puts the rest of the beauty in the room to shame. Taehyung feels his pulse race, meeting the dark, sultry gaze of the man who spoke to him.

Something calls to Taehyung. He steps toward the man, dazed and confused, staring, staring, staring. The man has the most beautiful face Taehyung has ever seen. Round cheekbones with a chiseled jaw, plush lips tinted rose, and siren eyes that glitter as he drinks Taehyung in. This is the son of a god or a god himself, Taehyung thinks. A creature of myth and legend.

“What do you want me to sing?” Taehyung asks, barely recognizing his own voice. His ears are ringing and his thoughts are syrup-slow.

The man smiles and Taehyung feels his stomach flutter. The man is not dressed in formal attire like the rest of the patrons. He’s dressed simply in black jeans with tears in the knee, a black turtleneck tucked into the waistband to show off his tapered waist, and a necklace that looks to be made of thorns.

Even dressed casually, he outshines every person in the room.

“What’s your favorite?” he asks, cocking his head to the side and regarding Taehyung.

A flush works up Taehyung’s neck. He feels a tingle slide down his spine and a lick of pleasure curl in his stomach at the man’s gaze. His fingers twitch and his mouth feels dry. He licks his lips, trying to think of the man’s question and what his answer should be.

“Can’t Help Falling In Love, I think.”

The man grins and Taehyung sees stars. “You think? Or you know?”

“I know?”

“Are you asking me?”

Taehyung shifts back and forth, shame coloring his cheeks as he looks at the floor. Effortlessly, the man jumps up on the stage. He lands silent and lithe as a cat. Taehyung’s eyes widen as he approaches, his gait smooth, footfalls unheard. “I’m only teasing, sweetling. What’s your name?”

“Taehyung.”

The man stops right in front of Taehyung. He’s shorter, but somehow Taehyung feels small and delicate in his presence, wavering as the smell of orange blossom and something darker washes over him. Taehyung’s eyelids flutter and he fights the urge to lean in closer to the man, to brush his fingers across his skin.

“I’m Jimin.” Jimin reaches out and brushes his fingers across Taehyung’s cheekbone. His touch leaves a trail of tingling cold. Taehyung closes his eyes, breath catching. Whatever this spell he’s under, he can’t shake it, gone with just a touch. “I want you to sing for me, Taehyung.”

“Okay.”

Jimin steps away and Taehyung makes a sound, protesting. His mind is warring between confusion at his reaction and the need to be near Jimin. The duller part of his thoughts is careening, telling him to pull it together, to stop and leave. But the desire shaken awake by Jimin is so much louder, commanding Taehyung’s thoughts.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin murmurs, gesturing to where Evangeline is standing. “I’ll be right there.”

Taehyung watches as Jimin glides over to the edge of the stage. He whispers something to Evangeline that Taehyung cannot hear but he watches the change in the woman. She ripples with anger, her lip curling up in a snarl. Jimin says something else to her and in the blink of an eye, her head is bowed, her shoulders coming up as she steps back, cowering.

When Jimin turns around, he gives Taehyung an encouraging smile. The effect is instantaneous. Taehyung feels giddy inside, joy bubbling up as he returns the smile shyly. Gone is the anxiety, gone is the strange feeling of being paraded around. Now, all he can think about is Jimin’s dark eyes, the way they track him as he moves to the middle of the stage again.

As Taehyung starts the song, he wonders if this is what Elvis was singing about. If wise men were right and that only fools fall in love. Can love at first sight be a thing? As Taehyung sings the song softly, looking at Jimin every so often, his eyes drawn to him like a magnet, he thinks perhaps this song was written about Jimin.

It isn’t rational. Taehyung knows this and yet barely acknowledges it, watching Jimin’s eyes shine with something as Taehyung finishes the song. For a moment, no one claps. Taehyung looks nervously around the theater, watching as the eyes of the crowd look at Jimin. Once he applauds, the rest follow.

Taehyung lets out a relieved breath, smiling and bowing shallowly. Jimin approaches him again. It occurs to Taehyung that Jimin walks like a jungle cat, smooth and somehow lethal.

“You have the most exquisite voice,” Jimin says gently, shaking his head. “You are a rare treasure, Taehyung.” He holds out a hand. “Join me?”

Taehyung starts to reach for Jimin before he hesitates, eyes glancing up over Jimin’s head at Evangeline, who looks murderous. “You are far too precious for her,” Jimin growls. “It is insulting that she thinks she could ever have you.”

Instead of answering, Taehyung just nods. His eyelids feel heavy, his heady swimming like he’s buzzing off a fresh glass of liquor. Jimin links their hands together and tugs Taehyung along. As they pass Evangeline, she doesn’t dare look at them, her eyes fixed on the floor.

At the foot of the stairs, Hoseok is standing, arms crossed over his chest and smirking. He shakes his head when he sees Jimin, falling into step with him. “I told her.”

“Thank you for alerting me,” Jimin tells Hoseok. Jimin turns over his shoulder where Taehyung is trailing a footstep behind. “I would have missed out on him.”

Hoseok breaks off from them, walking toward the bar. Someone takes up the piano again as Jimin leads Taehyung out of the main theater and to a stairwell. He says nothing, following Jimin’s lead in silence, steps heavy. It feels like he’s underwater, everything dull around him.

Except Jimin, who is sharp and bright and alive in his mind.

Jimin leads Taehyung down a hall and through a door. It opens up into a balcony suite. What was once a private box for watching the opera has been turned into a luxurious room of sorts, making Taehyung raise his eyebrows.

A lounge area is in the middle of the suite, and there is a single bed tucked into the corner. A wet bar is placed at the back, along with a doorway that leads into a refurbished bathroom. Taehyung pauses as Jimin drops his hand, looking around to appreciate the velvet drapery on the wall and the ornate decor in the room.

It feels like he has stepped back in time, a mix of modern and Victorian meshing in a way that Taehyung finds wonderfully elegant. Jimin goes to the wet bar and retrieves two glasses, pouring them a finger of whiskey each. Taehyung walks toward him, looking out at the lounge beneath.

“It’s designed like a bedroom?” Taehyung inquires, eyes drifting back to Jimin, who smiles as he brings the glass up to his lips. His sharp eyes pin Taehyung to the spot as he sips. “Do you… live here?”

Jimin shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering the question, Jimin gestures for Taehyung to walk with him, leading him to a rich, crushed velvet couch that overlooks the lounge. Taehyung takes a sip of the whiskey but it’s Jimin who makes him feel drunk and cottony.

He sits next to Jimin, limbs stiff. Jimin giggles at Taehyung’s awkwardness, tsking at him as he leans over and pulls Taehyung toward him, pressing their thighs and sides together as they watch the party unfold below. Butterflies flutter in Taehyung’s smile as he looks at Jimin, who is watching Taehyung with rapt attention.

Being so near Jimin is difficult. This close, he’s even more beautiful than before. Taehyung doesn’t know how it’s possible. Jimin’s lashes are long, framing his beautiful eyes. His dark hair looks silky and soft, tucked behind his ears as he regards Taehyung with a fond expression.

Heat climbs up Taehyung’s neck and between his legs, a heady feeling sinking deep in his stomach under Jimin’s gaze.

“What?” Taehyung asks, looking down at his lap and chewing the inside of his cheek. He’s never felt so bashful under someone’s gaze before. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re beautiful, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t be shy now,” Jimin tuts. “You were quite confident on stage earlier. I believe the entire room fell in love with you.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders and Jimin laughs loudly. “Now you’re humble? You are a delightful creature, Taehyung. Tell me, have you ever been to the opera?”

“No, but I’m familiar with some.”

“What about Carmen?” Jimin asks. He reaches forward and drags a finger across Taehyung’s thigh. Taehyung holds back a groan as Jimin starts tracing patterns on Taehyung’s thigh. “Have you heard of that one?”

“I’m familiar with the Habanera.”

“Ah yes. It’s about a woman named Carmen who everyone is in love with. She entrances men with her vitality and sensuality. A man named José falls madly in love with her at first sight, abandoning the army, his wife, and his children for her.”

Taehyung finds it hard to listen. Even through the fabric of his pants, Jimin’s touch is tantalizing. Taehyung’s legs widen a fraction, his spine tingling. He leans his head back, feeling breathless as Jimin’s tracing gets higher and higher, teasing Taehyung before his touch moves toward Taehyung’s knee again.

“José, of course, is not the only one in love with Carmen. She is infectious, tempting everyone she comes into contact with.” Jimin leans toward Taehyung, so close that his breath ghosts across Taehyung’s throat. He feels his heart speed up as Jimin lowers his voice and continues, “You remind me so much of Carmen. Charming everyone around you with a simple look, with the sound of your voice. So addicting without even a taste.”

“O-oh.”

Jimin presses his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung nearly drops the glass in his hand, placing it next to him on the couch as his breathing hitches. Jimin runs his nose up Jimin’s too-hot skin, making Taehyung squirm.

“I fear I have the same weakness as José and you have hypnotized me like Carmen.”

“Me?”

Jimin nips Taehyung’s ear and Taehyung lets out a throaty, moan. Jimin’s breath across his skin is maddening, colors swimming behind squeezed-shut eyes. His dick hardens in his pants, blood pumping through him, arousal unfolding like the slow-blooming petals of a flower.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You know the effect you have on people.”

“I do,” Taheyung admits.

“Look at me.”

It is a command. Taehyung obeys, turning his face to look up at Jimin. Jimin’s pupils are blown wide, hypnotizing, and alluring as he looks down his nose at Taehyung. Desire stirs so strongly in Taehyung that he parts his lips open, making a small noise as Jimin’s touch on Taehyung’s thigh turns to a solid grip, fingers digging in.

“Do you want me, my Carmen? Do you desire me?”

“Yes,” Taehyung breathes. “Please.”

“Ask, then.”

Jimin’s eyes are so hungry that Taehyung is lost in them. Jimin is on his knees on the couch now, pressed against Taehyung. It feels more intimate than anything Taehyungh has ever felt and they’re barely touching, Jimin gripping Taehyung’s thigh, his mouth hovering inches above Taehyung’s.

“Ask,” Jimin growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere in Taehyung’s chest. Jimin might be smaller than Taehyung but the power that emanates from him is intoxicating and sweeping, making Taehyung shudder.

“Please,” Taehyung says again. “I want you. Will you have me? Please.”

Jimin’s grip is iron. “Of course I will. You’re mine.”

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s as Jimin steals a searing kiss from him. Taehyung gasps into the kiss, melting into the couch as Jimin licks into the wet heat of Taehyung’s mouth. Jimin is all-consuming, his lips sliding against Taehyung’s hungrily, his tongue brushing against the ridges of Taehyung’s mouth.

It’s just a kiss and yet Taehyung loses himself in it. It’s needy and torrid, their teeth clicking together, lips sliding. Taehyung grabs the front of Jimin’s shirt, uncaring if he wrinkles it as Jimin presses Taehyung into the back of the couch, straddling him. Jimin’s fingers tangle in Taehyung’s hair, pulling harshly.

The pleasure-pain makes Taehyung moan. Jimin hums, his devilish mouth moving from Taehyung’s lips to his jaw, biting and sucking harshly at the skin. It feels so good. Taehyung just lies there and takes it, hissing as Jimin’s teeth pinch and pull his skin, followed by Jimin’s soothing tongue, rough and wet.

The ache in his dick grows, especially as Jimin puts weight on it, sitting in his lap and leaning and rolling his hips forward, pressing into Taehyung’s cock and driving him wild. He feels out of control, like the room is spinning and Jimin’s kisses are going straight to Taehyung’s veins.

“Fuck,” he gasps as Jimin licks hungrily at Taehyung’s neck. Jimin drags his blunt nails along Taehyung’s scalp, sending sparks down his neck and spine. “Please.”

“Please what,” Jimin pants, mouthing at Taehyung’s collarbones. “Tell me what you need, my wonderful Carmen.”

It should be strange to be called by another name and yet, Taehyung shivers at the rasp in Jimin’s voice. Every single part of him is suddenly alive like his nerves are exposed to Jimin’s hands and mouth. Taehyung can’t remember the last time he felt like this with such simple touches.

Perhaps never.

“Fuck me,” Taehyung breathes. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jimin smiles against Taehyung’s mouth. “Oh, I’ll fuck you.”

A thrill goes through Taehyung as Jimin grabs him and slams him against the couch. His world spins and he’s suddenly facing the ceiling of the suite, panting and delirious as Jimin pins him down, littering his skin with bites and sloppy kisses.

Some of Jimin’s nipping hurts but it adds to the pleasure, Taehyung barreling straight into a slow, pleasured haze as Jimin pulls Taehyung’s shirt off roughly. Cool air kisses his flushed skin. Taehyung claws at the jacket on Jimin’s shoulders, pushing it off of him until he’s free of it, Taehyung’s hands seeking the flexing muscle of Jimin’s arms.

Jimin’s hand goes to Taehyung’s throat. His hand is small but it squeezes pleasantly as Jimin kisses down Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung grinds up against Jimin, trying to relieve the pressure aching in his cock, a whine leaving his mouth. He feels Jimin’s breath across his skin as he laughs before fixing his mouth on a nipple, making Taehyung keen.

The stimulation is too much and not enough. It feels like Taehyung is ripping at the seams - burst at the seams from the pressure mounting inside of him. What has Jimin done to him to command his body?

“Everyone can hear you,” Jimin teases, flicking his long, wicked tongue out to tease Taehyung’s already abused nipple. He drags his tongue across Taehyung’s chest, leaving a wet trail of spit as he goes. “Can hear you whining like a little whore. Is that what you want?”

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as he feels Jimin’s teeth scrape against his other nipple. He nods his head, unable to form a verbal answer to Jimin’s question.

“Hmm,” Jimin hums, tongue lashing. “Good boy. Let them know you’re mine. They’ll wait for us to have our fun before they start.”

Taehyung has no idea what that means. He doesn’t ask. Instead, his hands slip down Jimin’s stomach and under his shirt, touching his skin. Jimin is cool to the touch, his stomach muscles flexing under Taehyung’s inquisitive fingers. He grabs at Jimin’s hips, but his fingers slip away as Jimin sinks lower down Taehyung’s body, nipping and sucking as he goes.

Opening his eyes, Taehyung watches with heavy lids as Jimin settles between Taehyung’s legs, looking up at him. His hair hangs in his eyes, which glint wickedly as his nimble fingers work the zipper on Taehyung’s pants. He can’t look away from Jimin, hypnotized by the movement, but the way Jimin grins and pulls open Taehyung’s pants, leaning forward to lick at the damp spot on Taehyung’s briefs.

Taehyung’s head drops back and he moans loudly, feeling the pressure of Jimin’s wet tongue through the thin fabric. Jimin mouths at the crown of Taehuyng’s cock, sending jolts of pleasure straight to him. He grabs the back of the couch with one and presses his first to the mouth with the other, biting as he bucks his hips.

“So sensitive,” Jimin coos. His hands grab the top of Taehyung’s pants and the elastic band of his briefs and pull hard, making Taehyung yelp as Jimin unclothes him in one fell swoop. “Think you can take it?”

Taehyung nods quickly, making himself dizzy with the force. Jimin laughs and reaches out, gripping Taehyung’s shaft and pumping him slowly. Jimin’s touch is electrifying, Taehyung’s hips canting upwards to fuck himself into Jimin’s palm, head lolling to the side.

Jimin spits loudly, coating Taehyung’s cock with spit, his hand gliding firmly to the base of Taehuyng’s shaft. “Just like that,” Jimin whispers. “Fuck yourself into my hand.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice. He does so vigorously, chasing the feel of Jimin’s tight, wet fist and the cool feel of his skin. When Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue kitten lick the tip of his cock, he clenches his teeth, slowly his wild thrusting to allow Jimin’s mouth to explore.

It’s hard not to bust immediately. He feels his orgasm looming from the barest stimulation. Suddenly it’s like Taehyung is back in high school having his dick sucked for the first time, trembling and trying not to come as Jimin suckles the head of Taehyung’s dick, mouthing at it greedily.

The room feels like it’s spinning. Taehyung cannot hear beyond the balcony. All he can hear are the wet sounds of Jimin taking Taehyung into his mouth, sucking generously, tongue brushing on the underside of Taehyung’s shaft.

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung with a wet pop. “You taste so sweet,” he groans, tongue flicking against Taehyung’s frenulum. Taehyung feels wrecked already, sagging and boneless, unable to do anything against the onslaught of Jimin’s mouth. “Sounds so sweet, just like you sing.”

Slowly, Jimin drags his tongue south. He strokes Taehyung lazily with his hand, mouthing at Taehyung’s balls. Taehyung’s fingers feel like they’ll break as he grips the couch, overwhelmed by the stimulation, crying out, muscles squeezing, head spinning, blood roaring.

“Such pretty sounds,” Jimin murmurs again, dragging his tongue upward. “Sing for me, my Carmen.”

A broken sob sound leaves Taehyung’s mouth as Jimin takes Taehyung to the back of his throat. The wet heat of Jimin’s mouth is an inferno, his throat tight and soft and oh god he’s swallowing. Taehyung lashes against the couch, hands shooting to Jimin’s hair as his throat constricts tightly around Taehyung.

He feels the spit sliding down his shaft, his stomach so tight and his dick so hard he knows he’s about to come any second, every atom buzzing.

“I’m gonna-” he can’t finish the sentence, shaking his head back and forth. His heart beats so hard in his chest he thinks he might die before he hits his peak. “Fuck, Jimin. Fuck fuck fuck.”

Jimin redoubles his efforts. Squeezes Taehyung’s balls with his hand, letting Taehyung shove his hips forward, Jimin’s throat squeezing Taehyung until he’s coming hard. Jimin takes it in stride, swallowing down Taehyung’s cum.

And he doesn’t stop.

Taehyung’s hands start to push at Jimin. Tries to pull him off Taehyung’s cock, tries to scoot away. The pleasure morphs into overstimulation. It hurts so good that Taehyung is collapsing into the couch, kicking and bucking and crying as Jimin keeps going, his hand pumping, mouth sucking.

If there is a god, there must be a devil. And if there is a devil, Taehyung knows that he is between Taehyung’s legs, working him to another orgasm somehow, driving Taehyung to madness as he goes. Jimin pulls off Taehyung’s dick with a sticky sound, moaning sweetly at the mess Taehyung has become.

“You can take it,” Jimin coos. “I know you can. You said you can.”

Taehyung nods. Tears sting his eyes and he tries to take a deep breath. He blinks his eyes open, watching as the ceiling swims into picture, a little blurry from the tears. He takes deep, shuttering inhales, his lungs rattling as he does. When he looks down at Jimin, he wishes he didn’t open his eyes.

He almost doesn’t recognize whatever it is that is laving at his weeping cock. Jimin’s face is crueler somehow. More beautiful, but terrifying. Taehyung swears the veins around his eyes are darker and the scrape of his teeth is sharper.

The orgasm must have made him delirious. It’s the only explanation, especially as Jimin works him hard again, Taehyung aching to explode once more.

Jimin pulls off of Taehyung and crawls upward. Taehyung thinks Jimin looks like an apex predator for a single, terrifying moment. And then Jimin is kissing him, making Taehuyng’s thoughts turn to white noise as Taehyung presses his tongue into Jimin’s mouth, tasting spit and cum and something like iron and salt.

Something pricks Taehyung’s mouth. He lets out a surprised sound, his mouth filling with a warm, metallic substance. Jimin’s kiss becomes frenzied. The force of it startles Taehyung, fear wiggling its way into his mind as Jimin presses down on him.

Jimin becomes overwhelmed. A force that Taehyung cannot escape, completely trapped and helpless, still dizzy and uncoordinated from the overstimulation. It excites him. Taehyung realizes with mild terror that he likes this feeling, likes being overpowered and pushed to the edge.

He lets Jimin suck greedily on his bleeding lip. He’s too focused on the ache between his legs and the mind-melting way Jimin makes him feel to realize that Jimin is hyper-fixated on his bleeding mouth. He kisses Jimin back as best as he can, though it’s more of a slide of lips and tongue than an intentional kiss.

“Turn over for me,” Jimin grumbles. He’s already gripping Taehuyng and trying to turn him over. Taehyung struggles to make his limbs work but manages to flip, mostly due to Jimin lifting him and turning him, once again showing how strong he is. “Gonna work you open for my cock.”

A pathetic sound escapes Taehyung’s mouth. His cheek hits the soft velvet. It’s grounding, feeling the gentle scrape of it against his sensitive skin. His cock is pressed tight between his stomach and the cushions, but it’s less invasive than Jimin’s hungry mouth, a brief respite.

Wet lips trail Taehyung’s spine as Jimin descends. Taehyung’s breathing is ragged and heavy, gulping down cool air as he trembles under Jimin’s rough mouth. He likes that Jimin doesn’t handle him with kid gloves. That Jimin keeps Taehyung to his word, driving him into a manic state.

Taehyung still feels like he’s on the edge of that mania when he feels Jimin’s fingers slip between his ass, seeking. He flinches when Jimin brushes against his tight rim, the muscles clenching, afraid. Jimin laughs but doesn’t push it, instead peeling Taehyung apart to spit noisily.

A gentle sigh drips from Taehyung’s mouth. He feels the spit slide, the sensation heightened. Jimin’s finger traces after it, circling Taehyung’s asshole lightly. His toes curl at the light stimulation. It feels good, but it’s hard to control the muscle's instinct to reject and contract.

Jimin doesn’t seem to mind. He leans forward, his fingers pressed firmly in the seam of Taehyung’s ass, his mouth pressing butterfly-soft kisses to Taehyung’s spine.

Taehyung feels like Jimin’s instrument. Jimin works him open slowly and gently, at ends with how he was driving Taehyung to madness minutes prior. The swing to gentle and soothing has Taehyung confused and reeling, his brain trying to keep up with the sensations tingling through his body.

When Jimin slowly breaches Taehyung’s tight ring of muscles, he lets out a pathetic keen. Taehyung is too loose-limbed and fuzzy-brained to do anything but take it. The intrusion burns for a second, but levels out to be pleasurable.

Cold liquid slides down Jimin’s fingers, easing the slide. Taehyung sighs, relief unfurling slowly as the burn goes quiet and all that’s left is the stretch and the pressure of Jimin working Taehyung’s walls open. Toe-curling pleasure sweeps through Taehyung. He bites his bottom lip, lifting his ass in small, half-hearted twitches to meet the push and pull of Jimin’s fingers.

“Mhmm,” Jimin encourages, teeth scraping Taehyung’s shoulder blade. His breath is cool on Taehyung’s warm skin. “Take what you want, sweetling. Open yourself up for me.”

It smells like sweat and orange blossoms, Taehyung’s skin covered in their mixed scents. His sensitive cock drags against the fabric of the couch, sparking pleasure and pain as he fucks himself into the palm of Jimin’s hand. Jimin’s fingers are small but do the job, pressing against the most sensitive parts of Taehyung, making his breath ragged.

Everything feels like it’s on fire as Jimin pushes in another finger. Taehyung feels the wet schlick of lube or whatever Jimin has used to make the slide easier. He feels fuller, moaning like a whore as he chases the electric feeling under his skin, coming alive under the careful press of Jimin’s fingers.

“So good for me,” Jimin whispers, biting Taeyung’s ear. His breath is hot against the side of Taehyung’s face. “Gonna take my cock so well, huh?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck,” Jimin swears. “I can’t wait. This is what you do to me.”

Jimin pulls his fingers out. Taehyung complains, feeling the empty gape. Jimin shushes him and presses his clothed cock against Taehyung’s ass, letting him feel how hard Jimin is. Taehyung grinds his ass against Jimin��s crotch, making the other moan.

A shirt flys past Taehyung. He realizes that it must be Jimin’s turning and angling his head to see the man in question. He is utterly divine, his compact body graceful and deadly, lined with muscle and delicate lines. Jimin undoes the belt of his jeans and pulls them down, palming himself over his briefs as he kicks out of his pants.

Taehyung can’t help but stare, lips parted. Jimin is a vision, his face still masked in something lethal and terrifying that makes Taehyung excited and afraid all at the same time. The mixture is intoxicating, sending his thoughts somewhere distant and fuzzy where all he can do is watch Jimin pull his briefs down to reveal a thick, leaking cock.

On instinct, Taehyung scoots toward Jimin. The other laughs, giving Taehyung a quick, harsh smack on the ass. His skin stings where Jimin’s hand connects, earning a whimper. Jimin tuts at Taehyung, fisting his cock leisurely as he does.

“So needy,” he grumbles. “So hungry for cock. You’re just like Carmen, you know? Addicting, needy, breaking down my will to give you whatever you want. This must be how Jose felt, ready to give her everything. Pliable. So willing.”

“And you? How do you feel?”

Jimin’s gaze is dark and heavy. Taehyung holds his breath, pinned to the spot. He feels Jimin’s cockhead nudge the tight rim of his ass as Jimin settles behind him, looking at Taehyung so intensely that Taehyung feels as though he will wither away. Ashes to ashes.

“Like I want to give you the world.”

“Please.”

“You have to give it back. You have to be mine.”

Taehyung is nodding before Jimin even finishes his sentence. Taehyung will give him anything he wants, as long as it means Jimin will push forward and relieve the aching weight of Taehyung’s needs. He is filled with so much carnal desire he thinks he would do anything Jimin asks of him.

“Yours,” Taehyung agrees. He tries to push back and spear himself on Jimin’s cock, but Jimin’s grip is iron, holding him in place. “Yours.”

That’s all it takes for Jimin to sigh, pleased. He pushes in slowly, Taehyung gasping and grabbing the couch at the intrusion. His walls flutter around Jimin’s cock. It’s a tight fit, a slow, pleasure-filled agony that ripples through him.

Taehyung is hyper aware of how full he feels. It is perfect, his mind turning to static as he lays his face down on the couch, breathing strained and heart hammering. Jimin praises him gently, coaxing Taehyung to calm down with gentle kisses on the back of his neck, shoulders, and head. Jimin is fully seated, his hips pressed to Taehyung’s ass. It feels good, the pain retreating and leaving nothing but bliss in its wake.

Jimin pulls out, the rough drag of his cock sending Taehyung into a spiral before Jimin snaps his hips forward again. Taehyung lets out a desperate sound, feeling his eyes roll back into his head as Jimin starts to fuck him slowly.

It feels hot. Jimin cages Taehyung in, his chest pressed to Taehyung’s back, humid air trapped between their bodies. Jimin’s skin is cool to the touch, such a contrast to the warmth radiating from Taehyung. The mix of hot and cold only heightens the sensations, everything feeling sharp and powerful.

Jimin’s teeth scrape Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung doesn’t know why, but he leans his head to the side, giving Jimin free access to litter his throat with sloppy kisses. Taehyung feels broken under the weight of Jimin’s thrusts, the wet sound of his cock pushing deeper into Taehyung until it’s pressing against the deepest part of him, making Taehyung kick his feet as the pleasure builds.

It’s so good it hurts. Taehyung is reeling, having never felt like this when being fucked. Jimin chuckles darkly against his ear, tongue licking the shell of Taehyung’s ear before whispering, “You take it so well.” Taehyung whines in response, pushing his ass back to meet Jimin’s hips as best as he can. “Such an eager little slut. Everyone can hear you getting fucked - do you like that?”

Taehyung nods his head. Jimin grabs him by the hair, pulling Taehyung upward so that Jimin’s chin is slotted on Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung’s neck cranes painfully and he opens his eyes, looking at Jimin’s side profile.

“I said do you like that?”

“Yes!”

“Come here, let’s show them.”

Everything goes off balance. Jimin picks Taehyung up off of the couch like he’s a ragdoll, spinning him so that his feet hit the ground and he’s pushed up against the balcony railing. He barely has the coordination to plant his feet on the ground and grab the railing before Jimin is pressing back in, splitting him apart for everyone to see.

Taehyung casts his head back, eyes closed. He doesn’t want to look down, doesn’t want to see the faces of the onlookers as he moans loudly, feeling flushed and breathy as Jimin fucks him hard. Taehyung sees stars behind his eyelid, laying his head back on Jimin’s shoulders, his hands gripping the railing as Jimin hammers into Taehyung’s prostate.

It feels like Taehyung’s blood is on fire. Something like glee unfurls in him at the thought of everyone below seeing how perfect he is for Jimin. That Jimin chose Taehyung and no one else. That Taehyung is the perfect, pliant partner for Jimin. He doesn’t want to see their faces - he’s too shy for now - but he silently revels in the fact that they’ll know from this moment forward that Taehyung is Jimin’s in some capacity.

His mind hasn’t caught up to what exactly that capacity is, blinded by the way he teeters on the edge of coming again.

“This is going to hurt at first,” Jimin whispers against Taehyung’s throat.

There’s a brief moment of confusion. Taehyung is unable to think beyond the thick, heady haze clouding his mind, but then searing pain rips through his neck. His eyes fly open and he gasps, too shocked to scream properly where he feels blinding pain throbbing from the side of his throat.

Taehyung’s hand shoots up to Jimin’s face, digging in his hair. Jimin’s mouth is pressed against Taehyung’s throat and it takes a moment for Taehyung to realize Jimin is biting him clean through the skin.

Panic shoots through him. He clutches at Jimin’s hair, pulling tight at the strands to pull him off. Jimin doesn’t budge, his mouth fixed to the tender flesh of Taehyung’s throat. Then Taehyung feels Jimin’s tongue. The subtle pull of his mouth, the drag of his blood.

The pain fades into something else. His neck tingles, fire replaced with numbness. Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut as a high unlike anything else hits him. Jimin is still fucking him, his pace picking up, his thrusts becoming savage as he takes deep swallows at Taehyung’s neck.

Taehyung is vaguely aware that Jimin is drinking his blood. He can’t process beyond that acknowledgement, too caught up in the euphoria glittering through his veins, turning his blood to molten lava. His head falls forward, too heavy for him to hold up, eyes closed and sinking into the feeling.

His orgasm comes swift and hard. Every muscle in Taehyung’s body squeezes tight with a force he’s never felt. It feels like he might collapse in on himself, a star going supernova before it implodes, sucking everything inward.

Jimin lets go of Taehyung's neck, gasping as he feels Taehyung squeezes his cock. The wet gurgle of a moan from Jimin’s mouth makes Taehyung turn and look at him. Taehyung is bent over the railing now, sweaty chest sliding back and forth as Jimin’s hips jostle him. Jimin is standing straight, his hands gripping Taehyung’s hips to hold him in place as he fucks him viciously, chasing his high.

But what freezes Taehyung in place isn’t the powerful body driving him into overstimulation. It isn’t the beautiful, lithe lines of Jimin’s chest and arms or the beautiful way his eyes drink Taehyung in. It’s the blood running down Jimin’s neck and chest that startles him. The crimson smear across Jimin’s mouth, which is parted as Jimin tilts his head upward, tongue coming out to run across his bottom lip.

A glint of white catches Taehyung’s eyes and his heart stops. Two fangs, stark against the wine-red mouth filled with blood - Taehyung’s blood. His heart skyrockets for a whole new reason and he tries to think but his mind is too slow. Sluggish. Still crawling through the high that Jimin’s bite injected him with.

“Jimin?” it comes out slurred and terrified as Taehyung watches Jimin lower his face, eyes finding Taehyung. He still looks beautiful with the lower half of his face colored in blood, but he is terrifying, and destructive. Taehyung thinks he might die of fright even as his stomach flips with arousal again. “What…?”

“Look at them,” Jimin grins, mouth a red gash. He grabs Taehyung's hair and forces the boy to turn toward the scene below. “Look how they waited so patiently for me to start. To fuck, to feed. They waited for you - to come and bleed. They don’t indulge until you’re done, my sweet Carmen.”

It takes several moments for Taehyung to piece together the tableau unfolding beneath him. What appears to be a mess of blurry images and sounds morphs into something else, the edges of his clarity sharpening as Taehyung blinks through the fog of pleasure. What he thought was going to be patrons looking up at the balcony as he’s ravaged is not at all the case.

Below is unleashed carnal energy. He sees bodies writhing. Scarlet ribbons of blood flowing down necks, in between thighs, down shoulders. His eyes sweep the landscape of bodies fucking and thrusting and bending, of screaming of pinning down, of biting.

Vampires.

The word suddenly comes to Taehyung in a moment of clarity, the word ringing out so clearly in his mind that he jerks upward underneath Jimin’s grip. The vampires below chase the humans in the room. Taehyung realizes that all of the patrons dressed in finery are slamming people dressed in plain clothes to the ground and onto furniture, fixing their mouths on them, and ripping their shirts open.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung breathes, finally breaking free of the murky mist of lust. “What are you?”

Jimin presses against Taehyung, slamming his hips in deep one more time as he comes with a feral growl. His hands are tight in Taehyung’s hair and his mouth is rough against his ear. “I’m yours,” Jimin answers, voice low. “I’m José and you are my Carmen.”

Dizziness sweeps over Taehyung, feeling like darkness is racing up to greet him. “Yours,” Taehyung agrees, slow blinking as Jimin’s teeth sink into his shoulder again. “Your Carmen.”

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@wobblewobble822 @idkjustlovingbts @teddytaee @jknoah @veronawrites @bts-ruu @tumeperds @ashtonkeller @ivyrosewater @secfir @hoseokshobagi

Please note: typically I would reblog with my tag list, but this drop is scheduled while I am traveling and I am unable to reblog and tag, so I’ve just done it as part of the main body.

#vmin smut #jimin x taehyung #taehyung x jimin #taehyung smut #jimin smut #bts smut #member x member #vampire jimin #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jimin fanfic #minors dni #minors do not interact #happy halloween!!!

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

What about an alternate universe where y/n is the big celebrity and Eren is the social media influencer🤯

omg, because this would actually be so cute! Like imagine (y/n) being a rapper/singer instead and you’re always the hot topic, constantly having your sound bytes trending on tiktok because not only are you a talented artist but you come up with the catchiest one liners. So one day, one of your songs is circulating the app and there’s a video with this boy using it to make a dance or pose off of..and it’s gotten millions of views and likes in the process. In the caption he says, ‘y’all don’t understand how much I love this woman and her music.’ Low and behold, he wasn’t joking. There were a handful of videos scattered across his feed talking about his celebrity crush, (Y/N) (L/N). (i.e. the ‘i’d never let someone tell me what to do’ until my crush pops up or the ‘I’ll never get in the car with a stranger’ trend. Y’all know what I’m talking about) falling out and reacting to your twerk videos. So you decide to duet and stitch his video. Granted, he’s got over two millions followers and a majority female fanbase so there’s no question that he’s pretty popular himself but that doesn’t stop him from having a total fanboy moment. Out of complete curiosity, you decide to scroll his other socials because you guys are close in age but you got your come up in a different way..one that was a little more difficult so you had to see what he done to gain his notoriety. That’s when you learned that he was a digital creator named Eren Jaeger. He done everything from photography, fashion design, making skits with his friends, art and even dabbled in cars. He was on YouTube, Insta, Twitter…all of them having nearly a million followers. But honestly, his star ascended mainly because of his good looks and amazing humor. He was so fine, that even you had to admit it. After that little interaction, this of course sparks the shipping rumors and content..people started saying that y’all would actually look cute together and that it’d be fun to see you two link. He even jokes and says “that’s my wife already, y’all need to catch up.” So he’s hosting an Instagram live where you decide to pop in and join with him. The two of you are a whole vibe. This man is FUNNY, he’s sweet and obviously tryna run game. So different from the other men in your industry and a breath of fresh air. Like you were literally smiling the entire time. The video makes its round on Twitter after being screen recorded by his followers. But what really gets people talking is when you drop a surprise music video for one of your hit singles and he’s in it..as your love interest! Rubbing all over him, the two of you kissing and him even picking you up. It’s the collab of the century and everybody loses their minds. Eventually, the two of you begin dating and he loves making content of and with you. Doing dances and those corny couple trends but they’re so cute. (and he knows when and when not to post certain things because some moments are better left private.) When you perform, he’s taking pictures and everything. Truly is your biggest fan and will STEP if anyone comes at you sideways..people joke and says he manifested or ‘he trapped you to secure his own career’ with you but he really is the best thing to ever happen in your life.

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animesmolbean · 16 days

Text

Guardian of Light

(Female)

Author's Note: I recently figured out how to do the 'read more' mechanic. I knew what it was, but I didn't know how to do it until I realized it was an option when you wanted to add links, GIFs, etc., lol I've already added it to the previous chapters, so I'll add 'read more' to the future chapters of the story. I even added them to my Wonka story! Read that if you want another story with a Timothée Chalamet character x reader plot.

Side Note: Over 100 likes for the first chapter of the Female verison?! Thank you so much for the support! ♥️

Hope you enjoy the chapter! ♥️

〰️

Chapter 8: Reunion

〰️

Paul's eyes slowly opened, coming out of his unconscious state. He took in his surroundings, seeing he was in a ship with the enemy.

Jessica was tied up to a chair, gagged.

“We will drop them in the desert and leave them to the worms.” A bald guy spoke in his language, the filthy Harkonnens that captured them.

Paul took notice of something else. (Your Name) wasn't on the ship as well.

‘Where is she? Is she alright? Is she alive?’ Many questions went through his head about his childhood best friend's whereabouts and wellbeing.

Paul directed his attention back to his mother, seeing her sign something, “The scarred one is deaf.”

The Ornithopter they were in started flying, the lights inside turning green. After some time, one of the Harkonnens spoke, “I've never had a high born. You?”

“Bene Gesserit ain't no high born.” Another one replied.

“She is high born enough for me.”

“Let's feed the kid to the worms, and give her a long goodbye.” The deaf one joined the conversation, looking at Jessica.

Paul glared at the male, “Don't you dare touch my mother.” He threatened in a low, dark voice.

At Paul's words, one of the Harkonnens slapped Paul. “Don't talk.” The deaf one demanded.

Paul looked down, breathing in deeply and saw what her son was trying to do, “No. You're not ready.” She signed to him, shaking her head.

Paul exhaled, “Remove her gag.” He tried to use the Voice, but it came out normal, a grovel like sound. In response to this, the guy got up and hit him in the throat, making him gag. “Shut up.”

“Find the right tone.” Jessica signed, getting worried for Paul's safety.

“We're far enough. Let's throw the boy off.” One of the Harkonnens spoke in their language, moving to open the back of the thropter.

Paul closed his eyes, moving his head down, and flexed his jaw, concentrating hard.

The same Harkonnen came up to him, pushing harshly against his seat and Paul looked up suddenly,

“Remove her gag.”

He commanded using the Voice, his tone dark, raspy, and spine-chilling. Not like his normal voice at all.

The Harkonnen obeyed and, in a trance, went over to Jessica and removed the gag.

Her eyes stared into the Harkonnen before she spoke, using the Voice on him too,

“Kill him.” She gestured to the scarred Harkonnen, her voice sounding a bit more threatening than Paul's.

The male did as he was told, walking up to him and slit his throat.

“Set us free.” Jessica ordered again, the glare on her face still present.

The Harkonnen did as he was told and started to cut the rope around Paul's ankles. Though the other Harkonnen comes from the front of the ship, putting a hand over Jessica's mouth.

Resisting, Jessica bit into the hand, making him groan out in pain. He was about to stab Jessica, but she acted faster, “Stop! Cut the rope.” She used the Voice again. He obeyed, setting her free.

“Give me the knife.” He did so, and Jessica stabbed the Harkonnen in the neck, killing instantly.

She got up from her chair, walked over, and grabbed the last Harkonnen by the neck, slitting his throat. She went over to her son and helped him out of the rest of his bindings.

“Your pitch was too forced.” Jessica scolded.

The Ornithopter landed on the sand as the two looked around for supplies. Paul found something familiar. “It's a Fremkit.”

Then, they suddenly heard voices come out of the radio in the Ornithopter. They paused their search to listen. But then, the lights turned red, and the engine shut off.

“They've crippled the ship.”

The mother and son walked out on the ramp, fremkit on Paul's back, they ran across the sand.

Once they reach the top of a sand dune, they froze where they were. Arrakis had fallen. Smoke, fire, and destruction everywhere.

They looked out in silent shock.

Suddenly, they heard something. Footsteps. On alert, they looked around. Then, a voice rang out.

“Paul?! Lady Jessica?!”

Paul felt his heart beat faster with relief and excitement. “(Your Name).” He whispered.

Just as he said the name, (Your Name) came into view, running towards the sand Dune Jessica and Paul were standing on.

(Your Name) saw them and felt tears well up in her eyes with happiness. She ran faster and climbed up the sand dune. Paul couldn't contain his relief, and he wrapped his arms around the girl tightly, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“I thought I lost you.” He whimpered into her neck.

(Your Name) rubbed his back up and down. “No way. Takes a lot more than this to keep me down. I wouldn't have stopped until I found you again.” She whispered to him.

Paul pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Oh, (Your Name).” He sighed, looking into her sapphire blue eyes with his hazel green eyes, making the biggest heart eyes at her proclamation.

Lady Jessica watched the childhood best friends reunite, a small smile on her face.

(Your Name) turned to look at Lady Jessica, before smiling at the older woman. “I'm relieved you're alright too.” She told her.

“The same goes for you (Your Name).”

Paul then took in (Your Name)’s appearance. “What's with the outfit?” He asked. Jessica took this chance to look at the girl's clothes, too, and her eyes widened in realization.

(Your Name) scratched the back of her neck shyly. She awkwardly laughed. “About that…”

Just then, they all heard something. Then, purplish black smoke appeared and disappeared, in its place, was the Heartless, along with some new Heartless that were dressed in desert attire.

((Here's what the desert themed Heartless look like.))

((Music: Kingdom Hearts 2 OST 44: Rowdy Rumble))

(Your Name) gasped and jumped in front of the two, her Keyblade out.

“The Heartless! Stay back, I'll take care of this.”

Paul stood there in confusion and surprise at the weapon she was holding. He felt Jessica grab his arms and pull him away from (Your Name).

“What's going on?” He asked, eyes still on his childhood best friend, who had started fighting the monsters.

“She has unlocked her power.” Jessica muttered.

“This is the Haris Aldaw’s power?”

“Yes. But, she is capable of much more than what she is showing. Her powers are… otherworldly.”

Just then, a Heartless snuck up behind the mother and son and tried to strike them. The two gasped and backed away.

(Your Name) saw this and pointed her Keyblade at the Heartless. “Freeze!”

The Heartless was now frozen in place. With it immobilized, (Your Name) slashed at it, destroying it.

The mother and son watched in amazement as (Your Name) fought the Heartless, slashing and hitting, casting Blizzard spells at them until they disappeared, watching the pink crystal hearts float up into the air.

There were moments when the Heartless tried to attack them and (Your Name) would come to their rescue and protect them.

Eventually, the last Heartless was defeated.

((Music ends here))

(Your Name) made her Keyblade disappear, and she looked at Paul and Jessica, who looked at her in shock.

“Unreal, huh?” The girl muttered.

“That was incredible.” Paul whispered, walking to the girl. “Are you alright?” He asked, placing a hand on face, cupping her cheek.

“I'm alright, Paul. How about you two?” She asked the son and mother.

They affirmed they were alright. Paul looked around, then out where the destruction laid. “Let's go.” He said, starting to walk away. Jessica took one more look out there before following Paul.

(Your Name) looked out towards the destruction with a frown. She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying. She took one more look before turning away and jogging to catch up with Paul and Jessica.

The three of them now were wandering the Arrakis desert.

Jessica on the left side of (Your Name) and Paul on the right. His left hand held hers tightly as they walked along the sand dunes, away from what was once their home.

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mushroomkwan · 1 year

Text

to lie under [m]

sequel to rite of sin

SYN: You've become adjusted to the life of a concubus, fucking and eating the essence of the living until you've had your fill. Life proceeds as such, until you find yourself summoned, like Donghyuck had been, to the service of a human.

TAGS/WARNINGS: I did way more research and story building here so it has some facts that were different in rite of sin, demonic activity, demonic imagery, biting and bleeding, incubi, succubi, concubi, m/m/f threesome, anal fingering and ass eating (m receiving), oral (f and m receiving), squirting, unprotected sex (f receiving and m receiving), anal penetration and sex (m receiving), hickeys, polyamory, markxdonghyuck (I don't ship them together, THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION)

word count: 4.4k

A loud wail escapes into the room around you, and you'd have half a mind to slap your hands over your ears and drown it out, if it wasn't feeding you with such a delicious feeling. This woman keens under you, this poor human who found herself victim to your charms, and she cums like a tornado siren, sudden and almost alarming. You take in her essence, every drop she spills, and lick your fingers clean, standing from the bed and stretching your wings behind you.

"Wait, don't go! We....we could keep going." She pleas when she sees your wings spreading, and you feel pity towards her. She's weakened, clutching her chest and taking heavy breaths and yet she still yearns for the pleasure you'd just given her.

Poor baby.

"Shhh, rest now. I've gotten all I need from you. Now, forget this." You use your honed ability of manipulation to wipe her memory of the event, feeling indifferent when you watch her eyes close and her body fall back limply. You look back at the wings she so adored, and smirk to yourself. When you'd first woken in hell as a Concubus, a versatile sex demon, they were the first thing you noticed before the colour of your skin, the tail, eyes and fangs, all of it. You'd grown wings, bat-like that stretched behind you, it was amazing. Now they were just your mode of transport, and your sexiest physical trait.

"I would argue your sexiest trait is your eyes, but that would be too romantic."

Turning around, you see your husband, leaning against the bedpost in such a way your desire is lit up once again, curling your tail around his thigh as you come closer to him.

"Too romantic? For me? Donghyuck, you know I live for romance. I died for it." You give him a hungry kiss, dragging your tongue and fangs against the skin of his jaw and neck, and he pulls at the back of your hair, eliciting a whine from you.

"Ah ah ah, you've already fucked this woman silly, I'm not going to be your sloppy seconds. At least…I'm not going to be here." He teases you and you feel your skin heat under his gaze. It always went like this, and you loved it. You fucked and from the humans, but with Donghyuck you made love. You made love so passionate you'd think you'd travelled to heaven every time. He was your eternal flame, your bond transcended time. It took almost a decade of earning your wings to get to this point, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"A human has summons for you, Concubus Y/D/N. And for you as well, Incubus Azonach." Hearing Lubell the Imp's voice you turn to see him flapping his pathetic little wings while looking at a clipboard with his telltale bored expression. Donghyuck cringes at the use of his demonic name.

"For the both of us? How?" You ask and Donghyuck slides over to your side, looking at Lubell with indifference.

"Does it matter, my love? Someone wishes for us both. What do you say to an extra meal?" He asks and Lubell rolls his eyes when Donghyuck nibbles at your ears with his fangs as you mull it over. A summons is a summons, you must respond if it was done correctly. However, how did they summon you both? Your candle formation was mostly new, and similar to Dongyuck's, could they have meant just him? It didn't matter, you had to answer the call.

"Let's go, my sun and moon."

The room is boring, yet surprisingly homey. As you phase through the ring of flames, moulded into Donghyuck's side with a leg wrapped around him, you look at the room before the poor soul who'd summoned you. The bed was a California king, so large and open. The windows were shut tight, with something sealing it, lest the wind ruin the candles and the entire summoning process. And finally, the owner of the room is kneeling before you, looking up at the two of you with such awe his eyes tear up, and his heart races. He's beautiful, and he's perfect.

"Look, love, he did summon us both. How sweet of him." As you and Donghyuck set down onto the hardwood floor softly, you notice that in fact, he'd somehow combined your candle formations together with an extra candle.

"I didn't mean to. I only meant to summon Sastronar." The man whimpers, and you bark out a laugh at his admission, wiping tears from your eyes.

"Sastronar? Oh, she'd get a kick out of this. Is the page ripped, sugar, how did you manage this?" As you ask, you curl your body around his shoulder and look down at the summoning book he'd used. It's crudely made, the leather slipping off its spine and the pages smelling moldy, but the words are clear. It is yours and Donghyuck's formations, only it's labelled Sastronar, and not your own namesake. The man closes the book and backs away from your touch, like you'd burned him with the simple graze of your chin. Donghyuck notices immediately.

"Well, you've summoned us both, so you get two for the price of one. What is your name, baby?" Donghyuck leans down and helps the man to his feet, and the man swallows down some fear, and tries to even his breathing, to answer.

"Mark. Mark Lee." He finishes and you rub at his shoulders, softly and gently as you use your concubus abilities to alleviate some of his fear. You can't take it all away, you'd be taking him away from himself, but you can help him.

"Mark...Mark. I like that. It's straight to the point. Well, you may call me Y/N, and you can call my husband Donghyuck. Do not be so afraid, we are here to please you. It is why you summoned Sastronar, is it not?" You ask, slowly inching your hands from his shoulders to his waist, and he doesn't fight it off. You notice it quickly, how his skin itches for your hands to hold his hips, and you inhale the amount of want coming from him. Donghyuck licks his lips at the taste.

"Yes…I know that Incubi is derived from the Latin word inccubare…."to lie on". I wanted..." He trails off with a dusting of crimson against his cheeks, looking at you for help. He's almost ashamed to say it aloud.

"Oh, sweet baby, you can say it. There is nothing wrong with submitting yourself as a man. Do you want to submit yourself to us?" You already know that answer, and so does Donghyuck, and because you know this, you also know that Mark is aroused by being cared for. Of being reassured that he's in control, despite the obvious fact that he isn't.

"Yes I want that. I've never done it before, but everytime I watch porn, I find myself watching pegging videos and gay porn. Does that make me weird, or gay?" He asks in sudden confession and Donghyuck takes the lead in answering this.

"Well, what do you think it means? Are you attracted to her? Do you want to fuck her?" He asks and Mark looks you over. Your body has grown some curve since you'd formed as a Concubus, but you'd mostly retained your human body. Carapace armor clings to your shoulders and your tits in a way that frames them, and lets the light catch them. Your succubus mark is proudly displayed on your naval, where you wear nothing underneath. Yes, he's attracted to you. Very much so. And yes, he would like to fuck you.

"Yes, you are. And now, are you attracted to me? Do you want to fuck me?" Donghyuck continues, standing up and showing himself off to the human. He's shirtless, as are most Incubi, with a low hanging armor plate and sharp carapace pieces on his shoulders, just like you. His body is lean, with fit abs and strong legs, and a proud cock on display. Mark swallows, and you can feel his own cock harden as he does, looking Donghyuck up and down. He wants to fuck you both, but he wants to fuck Donghyuck most of all.

"Well, there's the answer to that question. Have you considered that you're bicurious? Perhaps my wife and I could settle that curiosity." Donghyuck sits Mark onto the bed with ease, and you slide onto his other side, placing your hands on his hip and the other on his shoulder. He blushes deeply, and nods, removing his shirt. Donghyuck makes the first move, pressing a light kiss to Mark's cheek, and then another, another, and another as it slowly trails to his neck, his shoulders. Small whines pant from his mouth as he leans back to give Donghyuck access.

"So beautiful." You praise him as you take the other side of his neck, soft and gentle, but it rages into something more as the time passes, and Donghyuck still travels down Mark's body, leaving red skin and bruised hickeys in his wake.

"How far do you want to go, sugar?" You pull back from him and he thinks, looking at Donghyuck, who has made his way to kneeling in front of Mark.

"All the way. You only live once, right?" Mark speaks after a moment of sensual silence, and you give Donghyuck a knowing look.

"Sure. Now, I've seen it in your eyes. The way you look at him. Donghyuck lay back, I think our pet wants to suck you off. You've practised, haven't you? You look at him with a strange confidence." You look at Marks eyes, now staring at Donghyuck's armour piece with a glint in his eye and Donghyuck smirks, laying back and gesturing to himself. Mark couldn't have gone to him faster, the lust over fueling his shyness. Well, mostly.

"Do I just…suck you off or what?" He asks and Donghyuck takes the lead, guiding Mark's head to his own, kissing the man's neck again while you watch, retracting your claws and rubbing slowly at your clit. Mark goes farther and farther down, finally reaching Donghyuck's cock and licking a stripe against it. The incubus sings his praise as Mark gets on all fours to fully put his body into sucking Donghyuck's cock. The room is full of wanton noises of Mark humming and slurping against your husband's dick, who in turn is groaning and biting his lip.

"Yes, you're so good at this baby. Doing so well. Donghyuck, I think I should prepare him for you." You fly to the space behind him, sliding his pants down to his knees, and then off his legs completely. And the sight you see is such a welcome one.

"He prepared for us love. Shaved, and cleaned. You're such a good boy." You press a kiss to his ass, and slide your forked tongue against the rim of his entrance, your hand clutching the fat of his ass cheeks. He whimpers and moans onto Donghyuck's dick, and you revel in the taste of his pleasure. He'd probably prepped himself, and you can't help but moan at the image of him laying on his bed, ass up stretching himself out for you. In his stress, he'd tensed, but you'd relaxed him. And now you stretch his hole with your tongue, and your hand pumps his cock agonisingly slowly.

"Fuck, mhmm." He groans in pleasure, backing into your face for more and sucking Donghyuck down so hungrily, like a lifeline. The incubus has a hand gripped into Mark's fluffy hair, clutching at it and guiding Mark into a rhythm that has his hip stuttering in their movements.

"I want…I want Donghyuck to fuck me. And I want to eat your pussy." Mark backs away to look back at you with a flushed face and half-lidded eyes. You massage your tits as Donghyuck speaks to him.

"You know just what you want. Come on darling, your turn. I'll go at your pace, Mark." Donghyuck speaks and you slide into the space under Mark, his arms surrounding your body. Seeing him look at you, while Donghyuck stands behind him, makes your insides burn.

"Thank you." Mark suddenly confesses praise, and you can't stop him as he gives you a small, soft peck. Your arms holding him at a large distance immediately, eyes blown wide. He looks at you with hurt, and Donghyuck looks at you in concern.

"He's kissed me….oh darling, he kissed me." You feel everything at once. Heartbreak, hope, confusion, lust, it all mixes in your head and you find yourself tearing up. Donghyuck pulls way from him and sits him down, and you feel the scene has become too familiar, holding your wings around your body.

"What?! What? What's happening? You're scaring me." Mark whines, crying out in shock as the mark of Asmodeus glows, etches itself into the skin above his cock and you look at Donghyuck from between your wings as he takes the initiative, calming Mark down, who stares a the mark in fearful awe.

"When you fuck sex demons such as ourselves, it's just sex. However, kissing our lips is seen as loving, romantic, as commitment, before God. You have damned yourself to a different eternity in hell. You'd become one of us when you die." You see it in Mark's eyes then, something so fearful he goes quiet with widened eyes. He would not react the same as you did all those years ago.

"What…? I-I just wanted to kiss you I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He's not crying, at least not yet, but he is running at the mouth, panting and biting his lip in worry. However, you and Donghyuck can taste in the air, in his words.

He's still turned on by it. He's afraid, shit, he's terrified, but he's turned on by it.

"Sweetheart, what scares you about it? You aren't going to die now, if that is what you think." You speak, wrapping a wing around his shoulder to comfort him.

"I don't want to fuck everyone. I barely got the courage to summon you, most of all to fuck you. I…I don't want to become a whore." Mark speaks after a moment and Donghyuck looks at you with a look. You question it, wondering where this might lead.

"You will not be a whore. When you become one of us, the instincts will come to you like a fly to honey. It's how to live as one of us. And don't worry, you will have Y/N and I. We'll be with you." Donghyuck rests his hand on Mark's thigh, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He takes several moments to think, and you prepare yourself to go back to Hell on a hungry stomach. You have enough to last, but it wouldn't be a meal.

"I think I've made my peace with it…I wasn't exactly going to Heaven anyways, y'know? And if I were to go to hell, I'd be tortured for all eternity. I don't think sex is torture, so it's better to have sex forever then to be in agony." He was surprisingly educated about how one dies, despite humans not truly knowing. You're proud of him for making peace with it. You went out a bit different than he did. He wouldn't spend his time in jail, rotting away until finally someone took him out. He was a peaceful sinner. The kind with his humanity intact.

"That's good. Do you still want us to have sex with you?" You ask, even though you know the answer.

"Yes, please? Can I still kiss you now? Would that be rude to you? I also want to kiss you." He asks you, before turning to Donghyuck too. Your husband licks his lips.

"You can kiss us all you want." Mark latches himself onto him when he gets the go ahead, kissing him feverishly. Their mouths clash together while you slide your hands around his hips, sliding upwards and down, admiring his body.

"Mm I still want to eat you out Y/N." Mark breaks away from Donghyuck with his lips swollen and you nod, bringing him to you in a flush kiss, tasting his tongue for yourself. He brings his mouth to your tits, sucking and bubbling onto the hardened nipples of your left breast, his other hand kneading the flesh of your hip.

"You're so pretty." He pants the words breathlessly and you burn, looking away and into Donghyuck's eyes as Mark mouths and teeth against your chest, across your ribs, lower.

"I'm going to fuck you now, baby, you ready for me?" Donghyuck asks, groping at Mark's hips and he breaks away from your navel to nod rapidly, arching his back and returning to your pussy with a starved tenacity. His tongue flicks and sucks at your folds, and you move against his ministrations. Donghyuck spits a generous amount of lubricant into his hand and into the space between Mark's ass. As the human eats your pussy, Donghyuck lines himself with his entrance and rests the tip of his cock against it.

"Are you ready for me? I need words this time, Mark." Donghyuck speaks again and Mark whimpers, upset to stop but happy to start.

"Yes, please fuck me. Use me. Both of you, use me." Mark groans and licks against your folds once again, making his way to your clit and sucking tenaciously. You grab ahold of his hair and grind against his face, biting your lip. You know when Donghyuck has entered him, because a low grain escapes him, and Mark moans loudly against your pussy, the reverberations feeling delicious. His entire body moves, slowly, back and forth as Donghyuck creates a pace, adjusting for the both of them and groaning in pleasure.

"Nngh, fuck!" Mark moans, shrill and breathy, biting his lip and panting as Donghyuck increases the pace. To see him like this is a blessing, watching his fucked out expression looking at yours, his lips swollen and his chin glossy with your juices. And his eyebrows twist with pleasure as he cries out, grabbing hold of your hips and continuing to eat your pussy again. He moans and groans, sucks and licks, moving his head up and down, he does it all and you feel an orgasm approaching like wildfire, coming towards you, fast and intense. You grip his hair, and clench, before letting go of it all.

"Oh Asmodeus!" You praise your patron and cum against Mark's tongue, feeling cum spray against his face and soak the fabric underneath your bodies. Recovering from your orgasm, you slide yourself under him, bringing him into a kiss as his body moves forward with every thrust. You taste yourself on his tongue, and feel yourself smear onto your own face. He's whimpering and whining into your mouth and you bring his ear to your lips, whispering.

"Fuck me while he fucks you. I know you can do it." You extend your legs to wrap around him, looking at Donghyuck from Mark's shoulder, and he nods, changing your angles slightly. Mark lines himself with you, and kisses you again, and with the first thrust, he fucks into you.

"Mmnf!" It's your turn to moan into his mouth as Donghyuck essentially fucks you both, every sharp thrust of his hips drives Mark's into yours, and you clung onto him as you close your eyes, arching back almost far enough for your horns to hit the bed above you.

"So good for us. So good for me." Donghyuck growls, fangs bared, and he does something so sexy you moan at the mere sight of it. He bites Mark, on his shoulder, and the human screams in ecstasy, as blood drips down his skin and drops hit your body. You feel your second orgasm sneak its way through, building, and when Mark cries out and cums into your pussy, you let it crash against you, the two of you groaning and writhing in orgasmic bliss.

"Did that feel good, pet? Cumming inside me?" You ask and Mark nods, resting on your chest and panting as Donghyuck continues. Whereas your stamina was long, and you could cum many times, Donghyuck's stamina was longer, but he can only cum once. Twice on occasion.

"I love you." You let Mark say it in his lust-filled state, but give a glance to Donghyuck. He doesn't look upset at the notion. Not at all.

"I'm gonna cum inside you. Fill you up, nice and pretty." Donghyuck falters in his thrusts and falls rigid, relaxing and groaning as Mark jumps, moaning and whining as the incubi pumps cum into him. And once it's done Donghyuck pulls out, slowly and gently, before falling beside you. Mark finds his place, cradled between the two of you, and you move the hair that sticks to his face. There's no point in cleaning yourselves up. Once you go back to hell, any trace of you will be gone, except for the memories in his mind and the brand on his underbelly.

"What do you do for fun? What makes you happy?" You start the conversation first, as your arm drapes over his side and your hand holds your husband's. He goes red as he thinks about it.

"I'm in an idol group. It's me and twenty one others. We're called NCT. I rap." He laughs awkwardly and you smile. Donghyuck presses a kiss to Mark's forehead, bringing his arm to rest under the other's head.

"That does sound fun. How can you make music with twenty other people, though? That sounds difficult. And rap? Our baby does rap? I'd love to hear this." You look at him in alarm. What was he doing? However, hearing the pet name for Mark doesn't upset you. It delights you.

"Oh, really? Well, I could play you my song Golden Hour. I made it without the others." He excitedly stands and grabs his phone, nestling into the space between you like a puzzle piece. The piece he plays is funky, fresh, it's artistic and it makes your ears happy. You tap against his hip with the rhythm and your tail flicks to the beat. Donghyuck bops his head and looks at Mark teasingly as the lyrics boast of his prowess.

"That's amazing. And absolutely a diss track to Gordon Ramsay, what's your beef with him?" You ask and Mark laughs, opening a tweet after a couple searches to show Gordon Ramsay commenting on his eggs.

"You did fuck them up pretty badly. What happened?" Donghyuck laughs and Mark scowls, swatting a hand at his thigh. You could feel the pull back to hell in the base of your wings, and the tip of your horns. You wanted to stay with Mark a little longer though, so youinched closer and rested against him.

"It was years ago, and I have mastered eggs. Hence the song? What do you guys do for fun?" Mark asks and you laugh, looking him in the eye.

"Oh, duh, but surely outside of sex, something matters to you?" He asks, and you bite your lip, thinking about it.

"I sing, and she reads and writes. There are several levels of hell, just where the demons reside. One level has this stage I perform on when I'm not feeding, and a library I almost lose her in. Listen, we do not have much time, but we will be there that day, okay? Whenever it happens, we'll be there." Donghyuck's legs are the first thing to start fading away, and you see your arm start to go too. Mark nods, smiling tearfully.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you again...for everything. I can't wait to see you again." Mark presses a final kiss upon each of your lips, and you both hold him, closing your eyes. When they open, you're greeted by Donghyuck in the fourth plane of hell, Asmodeus's plane, and a sad look crosses both your faces.

"Is it strange I…I miss him. Like, one fuck session with a stranger and I miss him?" You look at him with a yearning glance and Donghyuck nods solemnly.

"It is what happens when you damn a human. Once they've kissed you, you know they're dying for you. You can't help but feel you'd die for them too. I felt it with you." He speaks and you sit beside him. You think about Mark, who lays in his bed with a small smile on his face. His time of death is ten years from now. He'll be on stage with his members, singing and dancing to their newest single. And a sign above is going to fall on him, mangle his face, blood and gore will traumatize his members, and kill him. It's not a way that he deserves, but one he's going to go through anyways. His death will be instant though, and that's all you can hope for.

It's 2033, and you feel it in your heart first, that it's Mark's death day. You hold Donghyuck's hand and look at the gates, feeling a sense of anxiousness in you. Would Mark remember? And would he come through okay?

"Calm down, love, you came in fine and so will he." Donghyuck chides and you nod, looking back at the gate. Demons stream in succession, each getting taken by imps for review, but you'd already told them you'd handle getting Mark situated. You see him then, his fluffy mop of hair as he steps through being the first thing you see. He's a succubus, to lie under, with crimson red skin and smaller wings to match, and he looks for you in earnest. When he sees you, he runs, flying into both your arms and holding you so tightly his new claws dig into your skin.

"You waited." He sighs in relief and you scoff, gripping him tighter to your body and wrapping your tail with his. He marvels at his new body as you speak.

"Of course! We couldn't go back on a promise, especially one to you. Come, we'll show you the ropes." You pull him along and he holds your hands. This was all you needed. Donghyuck and Mark, your flames, your sun, and your moon.

Someone summons you again, but you don't care. You had eternity with them.

You couldn't be happier.

AHGHGH the ending feels rushed again and it was kind of rushed I mean I wrote this all in the span of two days, but that's the ADHD hyperfixation doing it's thing anyways it was going to be just a threesome but then my brain did this thing where it was romance or die so 😭

#kpop imagines #nct x reader #haechan x reader #mark x reader #mark lee #haechan #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #donghyuck au #mark au

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sageistrii · 1 month

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This is slightly controversial and honestly you can skip this completely if you think this might bring hate to Jimin in any form because that's not my intention at all. I trust your judgement.

I was just thinking about what your anon said about taking kpop shipping too far in the case of Karina who I don't know so I don't know if that's accurate for her. But I was thinking, though I blame the majority of the strange perception around Jimin and jikook on shippers, because they overblow certain things for no reason even though Jimin does the same thing with other members, sometimes I wonder if he isn't slightly to blame for the shipping mess he's gotten himself in? Not most things but just a few incidents like the whole biting JK on the neck thing, or the whole JK carrying Jimin out of the concert.

Both of them know they have shippers and I understand they grew up in a culture where it's normal for kpop group members to act like that but when I see pjms blame taekook for feeding their shippers which they definitely do, I feel Jimin is also very slightly guilty of the same and we sweep it away because we love Jimin and also he seems like a very touchy guy but I just find it a tiny bit hypocritical to blame everything on everyone but absolve Jimin. He's definitely the least problematic person in this situation but... I give Jimin the benefit of the doubt always because he's a touchy guy who's grown up in kpop but I also give the other two the same grace. Does that make sense?

He's not being absolved of anything. Jm has gotten hate all his career because he's touchy, he's been called an attention seeker, queerbaiter, homewrecker and a slut. He knows about the hate and the fact that he never limited his physical interaction with members because of it should tell you all you need to know.

Jimin's connection to jikook as a ship has done nothing for him, in fact it's done more harm than good so wouldn't it be counterproductive if he was like that because he wanted the stans to think he was gay and in a relationship with jk and in turn make them like him and his music?

Also Jimin is like that with all the members at all times, as opposed to certain members who initiate forced interactions when they need to promote their music. Jimin is touchiest with Hobi and Hobi is just as touchy and they barely have shippers, it's not his fault if jikookers think he's dating jk when he acts the exact same with other members. Like I'm sure Jimin isn't doing all that with Hobi because he wants armys to think they're dating.

Jimin already addressed this and he has explicitly stated that he doesn't do fan service or bromance, he's just being himself if you were a Jimin Stan you would know that.

No one thinks Jimin is gay or bi because he clings to his members, they think he is because of how he's perceived and because of things that have been insinuated.

Jk carried Jimin out, not the other way around so I'm confused and that's like the tamest thing BTS members have done with each other. And they said Jimin bit him because he wouldn't stop swirling him around they never insinuated anything romantic with it, jikookers did that all by themselves. BTS members have playfully kissed each other on camera, if Taekook did that no one would think they were doing it because they wanted to feed taekookers, like we literally have a picture of Jin hugging a shirtless jk, was that posted because Jin thought it would make armys think he was gay and was dating jk?

Don't act clueless like you don't remember the moments that made people say Taekook were feeding their shippers, like it wasn't because there are multiple instances of Taekook being touchy feely so what are you talking about?

Pjms said that when Tae was name dropping jk throughout his debut, the awkward lives and how they became besties around the time they were both debuting and were embroiled in dating rumors, it's not like we go around saying they are queer baiters, Jimin is the one who gets those accusations. And unlike whatever they had going on at that time, Jimin wasn't being touchy with jk on camera for fan service, prior to 2022 they were always spotted out together because they were close, we also have people who have said Jimin is like that with the members behind the scenes so... 🤷🏾‍♀️

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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I love the sanji and Usopp childhood best friends AU but let me one up this a bit. Robin being usopp's not so legal guardian.

She's in her early 20s she's still on the run and hiding from the government. She runs into the red hair pirates. They hide her on their ship for a while running away from the Marines as well. They really don't know what to do with her at this age she's really not up to being a pirate. Especially on a boat full of men she just met a week ago, they don't know what to do. They're planning on dropping her off at any random village but yasopp had a better idea.

Her name is not Robin. Her name is Ruth, She cut her hair. Maybe dyed it a different color She looks like a completely different person. (They also fake her death. They blew up a navy vessel. They could have executed the plan a little bit better) He takes her to his home and gives her the key.

This is a kind act. A little too kind.......What's the catch? Of course the catch is she has to look after his son. Yasopp has recently been bereaved losing his wife while he was at sea leaving his 7-year-old basically alone for the time being.

(Since yasopp knows that his wife has passed, I'm pretty sure he got Merry or someone in the village to check up on him while he tries to come up with something in the meantime.)

Yasopp: He needs someone to look after him.

Robin: and why isn't it you?

Yasopp: with my bounty? No, not a chance...... Folks recognize me you know my face and once they know It's off to jail for me but you... Ms "Ruth" they don't know you... Which means you can roam around without any worry.

Robin:........

Yasopp: I know this isn't your ideal situation but this is the best we could do. Okay? Look you got a nice house. You can have the master bedroom.... Some of my wife's clothes are still there food, water, Shelter You're set....... All you have to do is just keep Usopp safe..... Say hi buddy don't be scared she's here to watch you..... Come on let go of Daddy's leg..... Say hi to her usopp....

Usopp: no!... I don't wanna.

Robin:...........

Yasopp: *sigh* come here upsy daisy.....God either you're getting heavy or I'm getting old.....*sigh*.....he's a good kid really. Honestly he's very low maintenance just feed him and bathe him and put him to bed at 8.

Robin:........... (Staring)

Usopp:........ (Staring back)

Robin:... Alright...... I'll do it.... I'm truly grateful for this really.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN LOW MAINTENANCE THAT IS A CHILD YASOPP PLEASE SUKFKSDKKJSGNKBFKJD 😭😭😭😭

No, but I absolutely love this. Robin and Usopp bond after a while of Usopp being a bit shy and scared of her. She's like a big sister of some sort, too. He tells her all his stories and speaks about his mom! And Robin also tells him her mom was an incredible person too but also died :( She takes care of him in such a gentle, and loving way. And Usopp is protective of her. Like. A lot. He keeps saying that if anybody dares to come around her he'll just stop them with his powerful slingshot because Captain Usopp will be there to save his dear archeologist! (dude, is this Au just Usopp stealing crew members from Luffy because he found them first? Maybe yes). She tells him her real name and the real reason she's there once he grows up a little bit, and Usopp promises to keep the secret if she stays with him because he really can't lose somebody else. Robin tells him they'll be together for as long as he lets her. She's the most,,, Precious thing. She loves Kaya, too! They spend sooo much time together with Usopp.

And then the whole drama comes because Sanji appears. It's not like Robin is going to fight somebody now that she's safe, but the way the kid speaks when he starts staying over with them (while the crew fixes the ship yadda yadda what I say in the original post) is a bit worrisome,, Sanji grows so fond of her too. He loves her! She reminds him a lot of his mom and finds so much comfort in her. Now, there's this layer of angst because, despite loving each other and having so so much fun together, the three of them can't stay like this forever because Sanji has to go. And Usopp, of course, says no because he's both scared and not ready to do this. But,, But also, he doesn't want to do this to Robin. She's been taking care of him for a long time! And she can't come with them! It'll be dangerous! And Usopp can't leave without her because she promised his dad she'll protect him, and he doesn't want her to get into any trouble. Usopp doesn't tell Sanji, though, he doesn't want to blame Robin for this and make her feel guilty. So he keeps that to himself and watches Sanji go, hoping to reunite someday.

I am guessing that once they meet Luffy, Robin joins them at the same time. If Usopp is going, she's going too. It doesn't matter how dangerous it is, if Usopp wants to fulfill his dream, she doesn't mind a bit of danger. They'll be alright. Then they meet Sanji and everything is pretty much the same except that Robin is there from the start? Her low appreciation for her life is still there, don't worry, Water 7 happens anyway. It's just angstier because Usopp wants to leave and Sanji doesn't want to lose him again, and Enies Lobby is even more dramatic because it's Usopp the one to burn down the flag for his dear Robin! Not to mention that it adds more significance to the Robin/Sanji Wano scene!!

And also, just think about Robin knowing these two teenagers have the biggest crush on each other. It's just so cute.

#sobbing and crying and throwing up #this just makes their bond more personal #and i already like them #sanji and robin are precious to me but robin and usopp in water 7 are something else too #ughhh i luv this thank you #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #nico robin #sanuso #sanuso childhood bffs au

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whumpsday · 6 months

Text

Astarion and the Cleric #1: Lesser Restoration

Masterlist / AO3 Link (first time posting on ao3 since original fiction doesn't get traction there and this is my first fanfic :P)

content: baldur's gate 3 (fandom), astarion/tav (ship), vampire whumpee, starvation, comfort, caretaking, blood drinking

so i'm trying something new! never really been a fanfic person, only ever really written original fiction before, but astarion's been taking over my brain. so i wrote some incredibly self-indulgent fic for astarion and my tav. this is maybe the least whumpy thing i've ever written lol. prob cuz the game has so much whump already. there will be whump further in the series tho, and i have some VERY whumpy AUs planned too.

It was a no-brainer to decide which of his delectable new companions to snack on. Astarion had been thinking about it ever since he realized that Cazador’s control over him had slipped. A free man, he no longer had to obey his wretched master’s orders. He could feed on whoever and whatever he liked, whenever he liked.

And of his soundly sleeping campmates, the pick was obvious: Gentle. Even his name advertised him as the one least likely to put up a fight if he awoke in the process. He was small for a tiefling, not offering as much in the way of blood volume as someone like Karlach, but he would do nicely.

Would do nicely, if only he hadn’t been such a light sleeper. Astarion had scarcely hovered himself over his curled-up form when his eyes flew open.

“Shit.”

Gentle woke all at once, before Astarion could steal so much as a nibble. He squeaked in terror, not quite a scream, grasping half-asleep for his quarterstaff.

“What are you doing?” the cleric asked, voice pitched with fear, clutching the staff close like a treasured plush toy.

“No, no–It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” Losing his place in the group would be far worse than another hungry night, a severance of all means of protection. That was, if the little priestling and his friends didn’t stake him outright. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed– well, blood. It’s not what you think! I’m not–”

“Astarion, it’s okay!” Gentle interrupted, lowering his staff as the fear left his eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. You’ve been suffering this whole time.”

The complete sincerity was almost sickening, as relieved as Astarion was at the priestling’s ready acceptance. “Yes, well, I’ve certainly been peckish.”

“You can have my blood,” Gentle offered, pulling the neck of his shirt down a little.

Just like that. So utterly easy. He hadn’t even needed to ask nor justify.

Astarion couldn’t stifle a small laugh at the absurdity. “My, you certainly know what to say to a man.”

“I would never knowingly let you go hungry.” There it was again, that cloying sweetness. If the cleric hadn’t been actively helping him, Astarion might have been more inclined to roll his eyes at the display.

“And I appreciate it ever so much,” he replied smoothly. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

Gentle blushed a deep violet, a reminder of the blood that would soon be his. “Yes, I suppose we shall.”

Astarion directed him to lie down, positioning himself over the cleric before sinking his fangs into his neck. It was absolutely decadent. This must have been why Cazador saw fit to deny him the blood of thinking creatures, reserving such a luxury only for himself.

He was so lost in it, he didn’t notice Gentle’s little gasps until he felt a timid tap on his shoulder. “Astarion?” he piped up, “Could you stop for a moment?”

It wasn’t enough. He wanted to drain the cleric dry from head to toe, every last drop sating what he’d been wrongfully denied for so long.

But he had an image to maintain.

“Of course.” He wrested his fangs from Gentle’s neck, standing up and stepping back.

“Just a moment,” Gentle repeated as he sat up, motioning Astarion closer.

Curious, Astarion returned to sit beside Gentle’s bedroll. “Oh?”

The cleric clasped his hands together, his palms emitting a soft, blue light. “Te absolvo!”

For a moment, Gentle’s whole body glowed the same soft blue. It faded as quickly as it came, leaving him with a little sigh of relief.

“There we go,” he breathed, lying back. “You can continue. I apologize for interrupting you in your time of need, but I felt as though I’d faint otherwise.” He tilted his head to the side slightly, inviting him back to the bite wound. “I have plenty more blood now.”

Astarion stared in disbelief. “You’re quite the character, you know. Though I can’t say I’m not a fan of your little eccentricities at the moment.”

“He wept for the hungry,” the cleric recited dutifully, likely quoting some dogma. “I’m honored to be of service.”

Never had Astarion been so thankful for one of Faerûn’s useless gods.

After he’d truly gorged himself on hearty tiefling blood and Gentle had cast Lesser Restoration a second time, the two sat in the warm glow of the crackling fire, Astarion’s stomach full for what felt like the first time in forever.

“Do you feel better?” Gentle asked, rubbing the sore skin of his neck.

“I do.” It was an understatement. He’d scarcely felt this good since the night he became Cazador’s. “Good, strong, happy. I should be of far more use in fighting.”

Gentle hummed anxiously. “Don’t like fights,” he murmured. He smiled anyway. “I’m glad you feel better. May you suffer no more. Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t realize you were a vampire, I could have offered you aid sooner.”

“If I’d known you’d throw yourself at my feet, I wouldn’t have bothered hiding it,” Astarion said lightly. “Most wouldn’t be so…” Naive. Foolish. Suicidal. “Trusting.”

“Help all who hurt, no matter who they are. The truly holy take on the suffering of others. Suffer in His name…” Gentle trailed off, suddenly aware that Astarion wouldn’t care to hear it all. “I’m a devotee of Ilmater. It is my pledge.”

Lucky, lucky, lucky. Astarion doubted the Sharran would be so generous.

“Besides,” Gentle continued, “Regardless of my faith, I wanted to help.”

“Hm. Well, praise be to Ilmater.” Astarion tried his best to keep the cynicism out of his voice, not fully succeeding. He stood, preparing to go back to his tent. “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

“You can feed every night, if you’d like.” Gentle looked up at him with unabashed compassion. “It’s no trouble. Just get me when I’m awake next time, so I won’t be so startled.”

Astarion smiled, no longer taking care to hide his fangs. “That can be arranged.”

everything taglist (lmk if you only wanna be tagged in original fic):

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my writing #vampire whumpee #vampire whump #comfort #caretaking #hurt/comfort #starvation #fandom #fanfic #bg3

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caroldantops · 1 year

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i think there's been a glitch

ship: kate bishop x reader (brief allusion to bucky x reader)

summary: you find a new OnlyFans model to subscribe to.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut (18+),reader has a shitty cheating unnamed husband, brief mentions of watching male cam model (bucky), masturbation, vibrators (r receiving), strap-on in fleshlight play (kate giving), implied vers/service top kate, dirty talk, JOI kinda, voyeurism, allusions to anal (kate receiving), cumplay

please do not add community label - warnings are included and smut is under the cut

masterlist | ao3 link

The door slams, a sound that you’re used to hearing by now. It used to upset you, but now you just let out a sigh of relief that your husband has stormed out of the house yet again. His car rumbles to life, and you watch as he screeches out of the driveway. Probably to go to fuck his secretary that he insists you didn’t see him kiss after getting hammered at his office holiday party.

Fine with you. That just means you have a few hours - maybe even the rest of the night - to yourself.

You decide to light a couple of candles before you get your laptop out, hoping that the aroma will help calm the post-argument nerves still running through your body. Lavender and subtle vanilla fills the room, as you relax into your plush pillows.

Your laptop screen comes to life as you tap the touchpad, immediately going to open a private browser. Not that your husband would ever know or care about what you do when he’s not home - especially considering you’ve opened his phone before to see some awful porn blasting. No private browser, no hidden folders, no shame.

The bed that you’re in is not even one that you share with your husband anymore. He always makes the excuse of working too late and “not wanting to wake you” when he gets back past midnight, so he sleeps in the guest room. It stung in the beginning, but you’ve since decided that if the man you married out of convenience in his job providing for you and societal pressure to settle down is going to unabashedly fuck around, you shouldn’t feel guilty about doing the same.

Granted, using his credit card to subscribe to various cam models wasn’t the same level of fucking around that he was doing, but it still gave you some petty satisfaction.

You scroll through the feed of your OnlyFans, biting your lip as you try to decide what video you’re interested in. You hover over the thumbnail of a model named James, wearing a mask over the bottom of his face as he always does as he holds a fleshlight in one hand and his cock glistening with lube in the other.

Before you can hit play and grab the bullet vibe from your nightstand and hit play on the video, you notice the top comment on the post.

[ladyhawk]: funny u posted this right after i posted MY fleshlight video…stealing my ideas bucky? smh

[WhiteWolf]: Kate, stop.

You’ve been bouncing from creator to creator through James’ account often, but you’ve never realized that this recurring commenter is a model themselves. Your curiosity outweighs the temptation of his video, and you click through to her profile.

Unlike James, Kate has her face showing prominently on her page. Her avatar features a fairly innocent (considering what you’re sure the rest of her posts contain) picture of her - a mirror selfie taken at the gym, stradling one of the machines with her thighs spread wide. As if this positioning wasn’t enough to catch your attention, she’s drop dead gorgeous. She’s sticking her tongue out playfully in the photo, and you can’t help but wonder how that tongue would feel between your thighs, how her perfect jaw would look as she licked you.

You immediately subscribe to Kate. You don’t even bother looking at her prices before you fill in your husband's card number.

The video that Kate talked about on James’ page is the newest post on her profile, seemingly posted just a few hours before his video. Kate’s face isn’t showing on the thumbnail, but rather you’re greeted with the sight of those strong thighs kneeling on a plush bed, a thick strapon dangling between them.

Fuck.

You don’t wait any longer and hit play.

“Hey, baby.” Kate appears on camera, and her voice instantly has you enamored. She scoots back and kneels on the bed low enough so that you can still see her face. “I’ve got something really special for you today. Someone very generous requested that I play with this new little toy of mine.”

She holds up the toy that she was sitting in front of: a clear fleshlight.

“Never played with one of these before,” Kate muses, turning it over in her hands, letting her fingers feel the sensation of the silicone. “Never had a need to, y’know? Don’t really have the parts for it.”

She laughs to herself, setting the fleshlight down and panning the camera down to show the massive strap that you saw in the preview. Her long fingers wrap around it as she says, “But you know I love putting on a show for you. And what better way to show off how well I could fuck you?”

You groan, bucking your hips into your vibrator as you feel yourself already embarrassingly dripping wet.

Kate lubes up her strap, giving it long and slow strokes with her hand. “God, I wish I could feel your pussy around me. I bet you’d feel so fucking good, babe. Would you like that? Do you want me to fill you up?”

She readjusts on the bed again, positioned with her face out of sight (much to your disappointment). She stops stroking her cock and picks up the fleshlight again, angling it so that you get a full view of her lithe fingers, wet with lube, sliding into the hole. Kate moans as if she’s feeling the real thing clench around her fingers.

You almost cum right then and there.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Need to fuck you so bad. Let me make you feel good,” she punctuates her sentence by finally sliding her strap into the fleshlight, groaning as she hears the filthy wet noises as she starts to thrust into it. “Jesus, you’re so wet! Been waiting all day for me to make you cum, huh? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you cum as many times as you want, baby.”

Kate moves the toy along her strap, bed starting to creak as her thrusts speed up. Even though she’s not getting any pleasure besides the sensation of the harness on her clit, she’s moaning as if she can feel every wet fold.

“I’m gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum with me,” Kate groans, the hand that isn't occupied with the fleshlight moving to the base of her strap. “Want you to cum when I fill you up. Can you do that, please? Please, wanna see you cum so bad.”

Kate’s begging sends you over the edge, and you gush all over your hand and thighs, arousal dripping a pudding under you on your nice sheets. You shake as you keep the vibrator pressed against you, moving away from your overstimulated clit and down to press gently against your entrance as you watch the last of the video, not wanting to miss a single second.

Kate squeezes the base of her strap, releasing a flood of fake cum into the toy. She pulls away at the last second so it drips out. She quickly pans the camera up to her face again, and holds her tongue out to catch the spilled cum. Some of it misses her mouth, and it drips down her chin and down her chest.

You cum again at the sight, this time dropping your vibrator as your hand shakes and grasps the sheets to ground you.

“Tastes even better after it’s been inside you,” Kate hums, wiping a bit off of her chin with her finger and sucking it clean. “Hope you enjoyed, baby. I’ll see you next time.”

The screen fades to black.

Even though you just came twice, in your arousal fueled haze you scroll down through Kate’s page a little further. There are a wide variety of photos and videos. Some with Kate posing with other models, some that are just solo pictures of her in fancy lingerie. There’s even a few ASMR clips. The ones that intrigue you most are the ones that you have to give her a tip to get more than a few seconds of, clearly her more intense videos.

One makes you stop scrolling and reach for your vibrator again. The preview just shows a photo of Kate holding the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen next to her face. It’s easily longer than her head, ribbed and thick.

guess which hole this is going in ;) send $50 tip to get the full video

Surely your husband wouldn’t miss those fifty dollars. You send the tip and the automated message appears in your messages. Even though you know that it’s pre-programed, you can’t help the heat in your face as you read Kate’s message.

[ladyhawk]: thank u so much for the tip! hope u enjoy this monster cock as much as I did

Needless to say, you do. And you enjoy every other video that you end up watching through the afternoon into the evening.

You’ve lost count at how many times you’ve cum and how much you’ve given Kate in tips by the time you reach the end of her feed. The sheets are soaked with your cum and sweat. You’ve never gotten this caught up in a simple masturbation session before, but you just couldn’t stop watching Kate.

As you lay on the bed, trying to muster the energy to get up and shower, a notification appears in the corner of your screen. When you see it’s in the thread of Kate’s messages, you assume it’s another automated one. But this one is unmistakably directed to you.

[ladyhawk]: damn, that’s a lot of tips.

[ladyhawk]: like, the most tips i’ve ever gotten from a single person.

[ladyhawk]: I take it you enjoyed them?

Your mouth goes dry, unsure of how to respond to her. Embarrassment fills your body. What if she thought you were a total creep? No, probably not, from the sounds of it. But the post-nut clarity hits you like a truck.

Until her next message.

[ladyhawk]: with support like that, I’m more than happy to do a custom video for you, baby.

After five minutes of debating what to say, you finally muster the courage to type out your reply.

[you]: Well, since you’re offering…I might have a couple of ideas in mind.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut #c: kate bishop #silver writes #OF!kate #i had that tag right #OF au

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 years

Text

Battle Scars by Paradise Fears

Summary: You are an empath living in the Avenger Towers. It isn’t your job to help the Avengers when their feelings get out of control but you do it anyway. What happens when you go on a mission and now the empath needs help?

Warning: mentions of guilt, depression, anger, doubt, sadness (all of the emotions and past traumas of specific Avengers), human trafficking

Word Count: 7.5k

Please read the end note after this story! It would mean the world to me and my family

Growing up was hard. You were constantly tired as you feed into the emotions of those around you. It started with a tight feeling in your chest as if a ton of bricks were resting there. Then the feeling moved to the base of your head, almost like a headache. Soon you began to feel whatever that person was feeling. It could be anger, grief, sadness, depression and on the off chance; happiness, joy, or pleasure. As you got older you learned to control it. It only took real intense emotions that would call on your mutant powers. So living with the Avengers was a challenge. They were intense people with even bigger emotions. You drank calming tea, meditated, and journaled to keep your own emotions in check. You weren’t a full time member of the team - you spent a majority of the time in the lab with Bruce and Tony. It was rare that you saw action in the field but you were prepared when duty called. Like this past weekend. The world seemed to be on a different level and the Avengers were sent to all corners to deal with rising threats. You were in the compound when Maria approached you with a mission report. You took it without hesitation and now as you sat in your room, a blanket wrapped around you tightly -protecting you from the world, you wished you told Maria no.

The mission went south as soon as you stepped down in Uganda, you were working closely with the Wakandans. Numerous reports of children going mission and the rumors of a human trafficking ring, meant you and T’Challa had to work fast before they left the country. You weren’t fast enough. You closed your eyes, wishing for the images of inside the shipping containers would leave your mind. Sometimes you wished the others had your ability so they knew you were hurting and they could come to you like you’ve done so many times for them.

Steve Rogers; Captain America

FRIDAY announced the arrival of the team but you knew they were back as soon the quinjet landed. Guilt. It was a powerful emotion and it was confusing one of your teammates and in turn, consuming you. You closed your laptop and headed to the elevator. Before you pressed the button, the door opened and Tony was leaning on the metal wall. “Tons, are you okay?” He nodded, pushed himself off the wall, and walked out the elevator. He didn’t look injured, just exhausted.

“It’s not me you're feeling El,” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder walking into the lap. El wasn’t your real name, it was your given name by the Avengers as your birth name carried too much trauma. It was short for elephant as Vision let slip that elephants were some of the most empathic creatures. But you weren’t a big fan of being called an elephant so El was the next best thing. “What happened?” You asked, following the billionaire. He became a father figure to you since your parents disowned you when you told them you were going to join the Avengers. Tony fell into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. The mission was supposed to be a recon on an old HYDRA facility. There were rumors of a new super solider serum and Fury wanted the Avengers to get their hands on it before someone else did. Steve, Tony, Sam, Natasha, and Maria were sent on the mission - that was a week ago.

“Mission went sideways. It was a trap.” Your stomach dropped. “Wilson and Romonaff are in medbay.”

“How bad?” You asked.

“Wilson broke his arm. Romonaoff got it worse - she got a nasty hit to the head. She was unconscious the entire ride back home.” You nodded. “It’s Steve.” Tony whispered. “Steve is who you are feeling, tread lightly.” You gave him a smile and walked back to the elevator, asking FRIDAY where the super soldier was. The AI informed you that Captain Rogers was in the training room - he asked to be alone. You huffed as your rode the elevator to the training room. You wondered if you should have made a stop at medbay but you knew Dr. Cho would have her hands full and Yelena and Bucky would be down there. It was a quick walk to the training room when the elevator stopped. You were greeted with darkness, the windows were covered and a majority of the lights were off besides one. The soldier was illuminated by the light and was punching a sandbag. A pile was forming of ones he destroyed. Oh Steve, you thought, leaning on the door frame. With a hard swing from his right hand, the sandbag broke off the chain and flew towards the wall.

“You know,” You said, making your presence known. Steve’s shoulders tense up. “I don’t think Tony would appreciate how you are treating the building's equipment.” Steve sighed.

“I was wondering how long I had before you found me.” You hummed, pushing yourself off the walk and walked over to the soldier. Your footsteps echoed against the wall.

“I’d say 4 sandbags.” You joked. Steve smiled. “FRIDAY, open the window.” The AI listened to your request and the New York sun lit up the darkness. “Please advise the other Avengers that the training room is off limits.”

“Understood, El.”

“I gave FRIDAY that same order but it appears it didn’t work.” You shrugged, sitting on the floor, and patted the empty space next to you. Steve stared at the empty spot and you gave the stubborn captain a pointed look - he sat down next to you. With him being this close, you could feel his guilt. It was suffocating.

“What’s your favorite part of the day?” You asked, looking forward. He didn’t answer so you answered your question. “Mine is dawn. Dawn means to become day in old English so it’s the first sight of lightness in the morning.” You explained, looking at Steve. He was wondering about your answer. “Do you know why dawn is my favorite?” He shook his head.

“Why?” He questioned, his voice shaking.

“Because,” You said slowly. “No matter how dark it is there will be light towards the end. It may take some time but light will over power the darkness.” Steve let out a shaky breath and his blue eyes were glossy with tears.

“It’s so hard,” his voice cracked. “It is so hard to make the final call and it is possible that one of you or all of you don’t return home.” You laced your hand with his.

“Sam and Natasha are going to be okay.” You said. “You brought them home.” He shook his head.

“We got lucky this time. What if we aren’t so lucky next time?” He asked. It was a valid question, a question you didn’t have an answer to. This job was filled with uncertainties and a million ‘What if?’ questions.

“Then we deal with it together because you are not alone and keep marching on. We’ve all got battle scars and you’ve had enough just don’t give up.” You gave his hand a a tight squeeze. “This is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for.” You watched as a few tears slid down his face. His guilt was still there but it wasn’t as strong.

“Thank you.”

“Captain Rogers,” FRIDAY’s voice called out. “Dr. Cho wanted me to inform you that Miss. Romanoff is requesting to see you.” You saw the tension leave his shoulders. You gently patted him on the bag.

“Go get her tiger.” Steve got to his feet quickly, stumbling slightly. You giggle at the flush of embarrassment that graced his cheeks. He gave you a grateful smile and jogged to Medbay. You sighed, leaning back and closed your eyes. You liked the quote by Umar Iban Al-Khattab: ‘No amount of guilt can change the past and no amount of worrying can change the future.’

Yelena Belova; White Widow

It wasn’t a normal occurrence for you when sleep avoided you. You laid in bed; hands behind your head as you stared up at the ceiling. A sudden rush of anger passed through you. The strong emotion took your breath away. It was anger mixed with sadness. You slowly sat up. “FRIDAY, who is up right now?” You asked the AI.

“Miss. Belova is in the kitchen and The Boss is in the lab with Mr. Banner.” You nodded, grabbing a sweatshirt from (you were pretty sure the sweatshirt belonged to Steve) and a pair of fluffy socks. The compound was always freezing at night. You left your room and walked the empty and dark halls to the kitchen. You figured you were feeling Yelena’s range of emotions. She returned from a mission with her sister, they were going on a recon mission to a lab. They’re primary object was to sneak in and steal some intel. You reached the kitchen and saw Yelena sitting at the counter, two bottles of vodka out and a shot glass. She saw you immediately so you didn’t have a chance to watch her. Instead you gave her a friendly smile, grabbed two spoons from the drawer and opened the freezer. Chocolate ice cream. Perfect. You closed the freezer and leaned against the counter. Yelena’s green eyes never left you.

Yelena was a new addition to the team and you knew she was cactious of you, Natasha must have told her about your ability. You offered her the extra spoon. “Want soom?” You offered. She looked at the spoon then the ice cream.

“No.” She said, simply. You shrugged, putting the spoon down and opened the ice cream.

“If you change your mind, the offer still stands.” You took a spoonful and ate it. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the White Widow take a shot and fill it again.

“Isn’t that Sam’s ice cream?” She questioned. You looked at the container and saw in horrible penmanship Sam’s name and a drawing of a falcon. You smiled.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” You almost dropped your spoon as the smile graced the Russian’s face. A wave of silence passed you two as you ate ice cream and she drank her vodka. Soon you noticed Yelenba looking at the spoon. She took it slowly and you pushed the ice cream container closer to her. “What’s your favorite ice cream?” You asked. She thought for a moment, took a spoonful and ate the chocolate ice cream.

“Mint chocolate chip.” You scrunted your nose. She laughed, throwing you head back. “What? It’s not good?” You shook your head.

“Not for me.” You mumbled. Her laughter made you smile. Her earlier feelings of anger and sadness were disappearing but they were lingering.

“So what is your favorite ice cream?” She asked.

“Rocky road.” You said without hesitation. “I have good memories with my parents sitting at a pond, eating rocky road and watching the ducks.” You said, sighing. You couldn’t tell if this overwhelming sadness was your own emotion or Yelena’s.

“I like mint chocolate chip because it reminds me of a time before the Red Room.” She stopped, taking another shot of vodka. You didn’t prompt the blonde to continue, hoping she would on her own. “Alexi took Natasha and I to a small ice cream shop. We had to stay in the car and he didn’t know what ice cream flavor kids liked so he got us mint chocolate.” You smiled as you listened to her talk. “Natasha didn’t like it but I ate all of mine.” She sighed. Yup, you thought, the sadness was coming from her. Her jaw clenched as she threw back another shot. The anger was back. “I hate them so much.” She confessed.

“Who do you hate, Yelena?” You asked softly. She looked at you, blinking her green eyes at you. She shook her head.

“Nobody,” she said suddenly. “It’s not important. You have more important things to do.” She stood, gathered her bottles of liquor, and shot glasses. “Thank you for sharing ice cream.” You stared blankly as the White Widow headed back to her room. You broke out of your trance and ran after her.

“Yelena,” her name stopped her. “You’ve had enough, just don’t give up. You are worth fighting for. You know we’ve all got battle scars. Just keep marching on.” She didn’t respond or turn around to look at you. “You are not alone.” Her body began to shake.

“I’m angry at Natasha, Alexi, and Melina.” She answered, turning to face you with tears coming down her cheeks. “Why did they give me back to the Red Room? Why didn’t Natasha come back for me?” You weren’t sure if she wanted you to answer or she was just throwing these questions to the universe. “We got separated on our mission and I found my way out of the lap and I couldn’t find Natasha. I thought she left me again.” Her hands tightened around the neck of the bottle. “I don’t want to be alone again.” You took a few tentative steps towards the Russian, closing the distance.

“You aren’t alone.” You said, taking the glass out of her hands. “As long as I’m here you won’t be alone.” She looked into your eyes, looking for any lie in your words. She chuckled, whipping away her tears.

“Natasha was right. You are a weird one.” You laughed, throwing your head back.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Come on, let's go watch a movie.” You held out your freehand and the Russian took it.

Bucky Barnes, White Wolf

You watched the Quinjet touch down, wrapping the rain jacket tightly around you. It was down pouring in Upstate New York. This was the type of weather where you wished you were curled up in your room, under blankets and hot chocolate. But you were waiting for members of the team to come home from a mission. Bruce, Sam, Bucky, and Steve were returning home from clearing out an old HYDRA base, a simple mission. But Bucy stumbled upon mission reports of him as the Winter Soldier and it triggered a depressive episode. Sam sent you a text on their way home. Bruce was the first out of the Quinjet. He descended the ramp and jogged over the covering where you were standing to avoid the rain. You smiled at him. “How’s the team doing, doctor? Any injuries?” He shook his head, spraying water on you.

“Cap dislocated his shoulder but nothing major besides,” he waved his hand. You nodded, he was talking about Bucky.

“Headed to the lab?”

“Yeah after a shower.”

“I’ll see you down there.” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Take your time, kid.” He went into the compound. Next to descend the ramp was Captain America. He was stretching his shoulder as he didn’t seem to be bothered by the rain.

“How’s the shoulder, Captain?” He shrugged. “I’ve had worse,” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Natasha is waiting for you. FRIDAY alerted her that you were hurt.” Steve groaned and followed the same path as Bruce. You waited for the next member to come out but no one did. You groaned, ran through the rain, and up the ramp into the Quinjet. You loved the sound of rain hitting metal. On any other day you would enjoy the sound but as you walked through the Quinjet to find Bucky and Sam, a cloud covered your mind. It stopped you in your tracks. Darkness, regret, and sadness crept through you. You felt cold. You shook off the feeling and continued. You found Bucky, sitting on the ground, Sam kneeling in front of him with his hands on Bucky’s knees. The cute interaction made you smile. Sam looked away from his boyfriend and smiled.

“Hey, El.” You waved. “He’s barely said a word and hasn’t moved.” You nodded, walking over to them. You placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“I got him.” Sam nodded, standing up. He pulled you into a quick hug.

“Thank you.” His words vibrated through his chest. You scrunted your nose, pushing him away.

“You stink.” Sam laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah.” He bumped your shoulder against yours as he left you and the super soldier alone. His head was down, staring at his hands. You sighed and sat next to him.

“If you could be an animal, any animal in the world, what would you be?” You asked. He didn’t respond, he made no sign that he heard you. “I think I’d be a butterfly. Across different cultures, the butterfly has become a metaphor for transformation and hope. It starts with a colorless caterpillar and turns into an exquisite winged beautiful creature.” You explained. He leaned his head back and was looking forward. Progress. “White Wolf.” You whispered. “A wolf symbolizes loyalty, protection, and freedom.” He let out a shaky breath and his blue eyes were glossy with tears. “In many Native American cultures, wolves are scared creatures. They are strong and courageous.” You looked at the soldier. “I think the Wakandans picked a perfect name for you, Bucky. You are a wolf.” He shook his head. “Why not?” You asked.

“I hurt and killed so many people.” His voice was shaky as tears fell from his eyes. “I’m not a protector but a monster.” Your heart broke at the way he was talking about himself.

“The Winter Soldier did those things. The White Wolf didn’t.” He formed his vibranium hand into a fist, opening and closing it. “Better days are near. Hope is so much stronger than fear. You’ve had enough just don’t give up. You are worth fighting for. We all have battle scars.” You stood up, taking your rain jacket off, and held out your hand. “Do you trust me?” You asked. He looked up at you.

“Of course.” He said.

“Then trust me when I say I trust you with my life Bucky Barnes and I know everyone behind those walls,” You pointed in the direction of the compound. “Do as well.” He hesitantly put his flesh hand up to grab yours but you pulled your hand back. Confusion flashed across his face. “Other hand.” You told him. He sighed but grabbed your hand with his vibranium one. The temperature difference shocked you. You pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the Quinjet, down the ramp, and into the rain.

“What are we doing?” He asked.

“Teach me how to dance.” You said, grabbing his flesh hand. His eyes grew wide.

“What?” He questioned.

“You heard me, old man. Teach me how to dance.”

“In the rain?” You nodded. “Right now?” You nodded again, excitedly. “Why?” He asked.

“Because it’s fun.” You said simply. He gave you a pointed look. You shrugged, rolling your eyes. “Have you seen Shawkshank Redemption?” You asked. Bucky shook his head. “Remind me to have a long talk with Sam on what movies he’s showing you.” He smiled. “Towards the end of the movie, one of the characters stands in the pouring rain with his hands stretched out.” You demonstrated the iconic scene with your hands outstretched to the sky. You grabbed his hands again. “Rain is a symbol of rebirth, the flow of life, and cleansing.” You squeezed his hands. “Your memories of the Winter Soldier won’t go away overnight and that quilt, anger, and sadness you carry may never leave you.” You told him honestly. “But you will learn to cope with it. Some days will be better than others. Let today be a reminder for you that you are still alive and so many people care about you. You are not alone.” Your smile grew. “So cleanse away those thoughts and dance with me.” Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

“Alright, let’s see those moves.” The darkness was still looming over Bucky but just as a rainstorm, the clouds passed and the sun began to shine again.

Maria Hill; Deputy Director of SHIELD

You regretted saying yes to Wanda. She had a date with Vision and she asked you to finish her mission report and hand it in to Maria. Bucky and Sam invited you and Yelena to play Guitar Hero but you had to decline because it was impossible for you to say no to the Sokovian. You groaned, putting your hand up to knock on the Deputy Director’s door but stopped. Intense feelings of guilt, stress, and dread washed over you. You shook off the feeling and knocked on the door. It took a minute but you heard Maria call out, “Come in.” You opened the door and stepped into her off. Ah. It was Maris you were feeling. Her desk was covered with files. She had another desk with a 3 screen computer system and you could make out emails that needed to be answered. A bottle of whiskey was on her desk, unopened but you could bet she was itching to open it.

“What can I do for you?” She asked. Her question broke you out of your trance.

“Mine and Wanda’s mission report.” You said, holding up the folder. You watched Maria suppress a sigh. Over the years you’ve learned to never ask if someone was okay if you could feel their emotions - they would deny something was wrong. You walked over to her desk and handed it over to her. She reached out for it with a tired smile.

“Thank you.” She went to grab it but you pulled it away.

“Are you hungry? Because I haven’t eaten all day and I could eat.” It was a small lie but Maria didn’t need to know that. She shook her head.

“I’m not hungry.” Well that was a lie. “Besides, I have too much to do.” You handed her the folder but once again as soon as she was going to take it you pulled it away. Her glare would send any agent or Avenger running but you smiled. “I’m about to kick your ass.”

“I know.” You jumped on the empty space on her desk to sit down. “I’m thinking Chinese or maybe Italian. No Indian. Ugh Mexican.” You were swinging your feet, careful not to damage her desk. “What are you thinking?”

“If I give you an answer will you leave and give me your mission report?” You nodded. Maria sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine Indian.” You smiled, jumped off her desk, and handed her the file.

“I’ll be back.”

“Can’t wait.” Maria deadpanned. You rolled your eyes at her dry humor. An hour later you found yourself back at Maria’s door. This time you entered without knocking. Nothing in her office changed besides the bottle of whiskey was now open. “Food delivery.” You said, kicking the door closed. You sat on the empty space on the ground with your back resting on the wall. You began to lay out the food, glancing at Maria. “Are you going to join me?” You asked.

“Why do I have a feeling you won’t let me say no?” You smirked.

“Because you know me very well.” Maria rolled her eyes, standing from her desk and walking over to you. She made sure to grab the whiskey. She sat in front of you and chose her food. You ate in a comfortable silence until Maria broke it. She took a hefty swig of the whiskey.

“I know what you are doing.” You hummed, unable to say anything with a mouth full of food. “You can sense I’m feeling a certain type of way and you think it’s your job to help.” You whipped your mouth with a napkin. “I’m fine.” Debatable. But you kept that comment yourself.

“I’m not doing anything.” Which was true. “My mom told me that working on an empty stomach leads to mistakes and mistakes will make work take longer.” “It’s hard to take advice from a woman that disowned their own kid because they wanted to do good.” You were shocked at Maria’s bluntness regarding your family. She winced. “Sorry that came out wrong.”

“No, I mean you aren’t wrong.” You sighed. “My relationship with my biological family ended poorly but I found a new one because of it. You, Nick, and all the other crazy characters that live here are my family.” Maria nodded. She was looking down at her food, stirring it. She appeared to be lost in thought and her emotions were muddy, you couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling. You wondered if her feelings had to do with the idea of family. There were rumors that the Deputy Director had family issues of her own and her agent assumed that was why she’s so unpleasant. You bite the inside of your cheek. “Are you up for a little adventure with me?” You asked. She looked up at you.

“Oh what the hell. You’ve already made me behind.” You smiled, cleaning up the food. The first step was the fridge then you lead Maria out of the compound to a remote area of the property. You were close to the treeline but had a lot of empty space to move around in. It was twilight - the sun was beginning to set and the stars were coming out. The air seemed fresser here. “Why did you bring me out here?” She asked.

“To scream.”

“Excuse me?” She questioned. You nodded, jumping on the balls of your feet.

“One of the best things about nature is it’s the world’s best secret keeper. You can tell it anything and it will hold it forever.” You explained. You had good memories of yelling your secrets with your brother at your vacation home in Maine. “Even if you don’t say words and just scream or yell or laugh or cry. The trees, the stars, and the moon will listen.” Maria looked confused. “Allow me.” You looked up to the sky and screamed. You looked back at the SHIELD agent and she was shocked by the sound. But you felt freer, the weight that you felt on your chest was a little bit lighter. This time you yelled looking at the ground. “Try it.”

“You are insane.”

“Probably but have I ever steered any of you in the wrong direction before?” Maria sighed and shook her head. You waved your wan, telling her it was her turn. She closed her eyes, looked up at the sky, and screamed. You cheered and clapped your hands. She yelled again. On her third scream, you joined her. “How do you feel?” You asked. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling, a little faster than normal.

“Better. A lot better.” You smiled.

“Tell nature everything. Tell it all of your secrets.” With a deep breath in and out you yelled, “I wish I was good enough for my parents. I wish I didn’t miss them and I hate that I still love them.” Her face softened as if a part of her understood everything you confessed. “Your secrets are safe with me and nature. Scouts honor.” Maria chuckled, pending down to pick up a rock. She threw it in the air and caught it a few times before tossing it into the woods.

Placing her hands on her hips, she yelled, “Sometimes I wish I declined the promotion of Deputy Director.” You kept your face neutral at Maria’s confession. “I lose sleep at night when I send the Avengers and my agents on a mission because I worry they won’t come home.” Your heart broke. “I have to pick and choose who we help and it kills me that we can’t help everyone.” You smiled at her. “I want people to see me. Not an agent or Deputy Director, just Maria.” She yelled one more time and fell to her knees. “I wish I could be good enough for my dad.” She whispered. You sat on the grass in front of her. The only noise between you two was Maria’s labored breathing as she tried to get her heart rate under control.

“I’m proud of you.” You said. Her head snapped up to look at you. “I know I’m not the person you want to hear it from but it doesn't make it any less true. You have an incredibly difficult job and many agents and Avengers give you shit for doing your job. I also bet dealing with Fury isn’t a walk in the park either.” Maria let out a wet chuckle, whipping away a few tears that fell. “But never doubt we don’t have faith in you.” She let out a shaky breath. “We’ve all got battle scars. You’ve had enough, just don’t give up and stick to your guns. Keep marching on.” You took Maria’s hand in yours, squeezing it. Her emotions weren’t as cloudy.

“Thank you for this.” She said softly. She let go of one of your hands to cover her mouth as she yawned.

“Come on, Deputy Director, you need sleep.” You stood up, pulling her to her feet. “And before you argue with me if you go get some sleep I will help you tackle that mess of an office.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No I don’t,” you said. “But I want to help if you want me too.” You gave her the option to not feel as if you were pressuring her.

“I’d love your help.” You began your walk back to the compound. She put her arm around your shoulders. “They are missing out.” She said, “You are one hell of a superhero.” You smiled, looking at the ground. “I’m proud of you too.”

Natasha Romanoff; Black Widow

You hated being cold. It was winter in Upstate New York and you were not having a good time. Yes, it was pretty and snow meant Christmas but you had half the mind to march to Tony and ask him why he didn’t build the Avenger’s compound in Florida. You were bundled up in a fluffy blanket with hot chocolate in your hands near the fireplace. You were reading when you heard footsteps headed your direction. Grief and sadness as the Black Widow sat next to you. You put your book down and opened your arms. Natasha didn’t even hesitate to move to sit between your legs and you wrapped the blanket around her. The redhead slumped against you, allowing you to hold her weight. You and the Black Widow had a complicated relationship. She hated that you always knew her true feelings and it took years for her to realize you weren’t going to use it against her. It wasn’t until after your fight with Ultron, Natasha started to trust and open up to you. She was the only person in the compound to come to you when her feelings got out of control. It was comforting to know she trusted you on such an intimate level and you weren’t going to break it. You rested your head on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” You asked. She didn’t answer verbally but you felt her shake your head. “Okay, we can just sit here until you are ready.” The Black Widow just returned from a mission with Steve, Wanda, and Vision. They were in Russia for 3 days. You knew she was going to struggle being there. You sighed. She was warm and you were jealous.

“You are always so cold.” She mumbled. You rolled her eyes.

“Trust me I’m aware.” The redhead chuckled. “But at least I have a best friend as a heater.” You gave her a squeeze. You got the opposite reaction you thought you were going to get. Natasha tensed up in your arms instead of relaxing more. “Tash, talk to me.” You whispered.

“Can we go to your room?” She asked, her voice was shaking. You nodded.

“Of course.” The Black Widow was comfortable showing emotion in front of you, Steve, and Yelena but not the whole team. You lead the redhead to your room. You held open the door and as soon as Natasha walked in, she climbed into your bed. You closed the door, joining her, and she moved to lay her head on your chest. As routine, you began to run your fingers through her hair. You felt her tears on your shirt but you didn’t call attention to it. You let her cry. You weren’t sure how long you laid there but Natasha sat up and leaned against the wall.

“I hate Russian missions.” she said, rubbing her eyes. You sat up and handed her tissues that you kept on your nightstand. She took them with a smile.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shrugged, looking up at your ceiling.

“The mission went well. We got in and out without any problems.” She closed her eyes. “We were leaving and I saw these kids playing soccer in the street. Just kicking a ball with no care in the world and I was looking at these kids and I saw myself and Yelena.” She shook her head. “I don’t know we didn’t have that. I mean we did but it was for a mission it wasn’t real.”

“Natalia.” You said. She winched at the name. It was an argument that happened a lot when Natasha first told you about the Red Room mission in Ohio. You determined early on that Natasha told herself that her ‘family’ wasn’t real to help with her guilt and to make it hurt less that they gave her away. The Russian sighed.

“Yes, yes, I know the mission gave me a real family.” You smiled. “I got angry watching these kids because what they had was stripped away from me.” You nodded. A normal childhood. A childhood that wasn’t about training or ballet lessons.

“What else happened?” You asked, it wasn’t the whole story.

“One of the kids got hurt. She had to be 6 maybe 7 and an older kid ran over to her. It was nothing major, just a scraped knee.” She looked back at you and you watched tears start to leave her green eyes. You had a pretty good idea why seeing this was affecting her but you learned it was best for people to say it out loud if possible. “She was only 6 too.” Yelena. You were feeling guilt and grief pulsing through the Black Widow. “And I just left her. I didn’t go back for her.” You knew Yelena and Natasha had come to an understanding of what happened all those years ago but it didn’t make the pain and the guilt any easier. “I let her get controlled.” You shook her head.

“That wasn’t you Natasha. You had no idea what was going to happen to Yelena.”

“I should have gone back for her.” You shrugged. “Maybe you should have or maybe Dreykov would have gotten you under his control too.” You grabbed her hand, running your thumb over the back of her hand. “The world is filled with ‘What ifs’ and we’ll drive ourselves mad thinking about what could have been.” You knew from first hand experience. Many nights you lie awake wondering what your life would be like if you said no to Tony. What if you didn’t join the Avengers? “We can’t join the past but we can live for the future.”

“Would you change the past?” She asked. You thought for a moment, looking at your connected hands.

“No, I love the life I’m living.” You squeezed her hand. “Definitely how I thought my life would be but I can’t complain.” She nodded her head slowly. “You’re not alone anymore, Nat. Neither is Yelena. Some days that guilt will eat you up inside but better days are near. Just don’t give up.” Natasha squeezed your hand back.

“I’m glad life brought us together.” She confessed. “You have done a lot for me, for all of us.” You felt your cheeks burn at her honestly.

“Just doing my job.” Natasha rolled her eyes and pushed you gently on the shoulder.

“Your job isn’t to be our therapist but we approached it.” You shrugged.

“Miss. Romanoff, Miss. Belova is looking for you.” The AI said. You looked at Natasha.

“Movie marathon?” You suggested. “We said we’d try to watch all the Harry Potter movies in one sitting.”

“FRIDAY, tell Yelena where I am and bring snacks and drinks.” You laughed as Natasha got comfortable in your bed. You grabbed the remote and queued up the first movie. Life hasn’t been the kindest but you wouldn’t change it

El; Empath

“Has anyone seen El?” Maria asked, walking into the common area holding a folder in her hands. Natasha laid on the couch, her head in Steve’s lap and her feet in Yelena’s, who was playing Mario Kart against Bucky and Sam.

“FRIDAY said they were going to shower and be right out.” Sam said, without looking away from the screen. Natasha looked at Maria and saw the worry on her face. The Black Widow sat up, earning a curse from her sister.

“What’s wrong, Maria?” She handed Natasha the folder.

“That is T’Challa’s report on their mission.” Maria watched Natasha open the report and the color drained from her face.

“Nat,” Steve said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What happened?” Bucky paused the game. Natasha cleared her throat.

“We arrived at the abandoned warehouse at 0700. Upon searching the area we found no signs of anyone being there for some time. Our last area to search were two large shipping containers.” Natasha sighed. “As we got closer, we noticed the smell. El opened the first container. Inside were the bodies of 15 children, ranging from 5 to 16. There were no survivors.” Natasha closed the file. A heavy silence filled the common area.

“How do we help them?” Yelena asked, breaking the silence. “They are always there for us, how do we be there for them?”

“I have an idea,” Maria said. “But I’m going to need help.”

You didn’t expect a knock on your door and you were tempted to ignore it. But another round of knocking forced you to leave your cocoon of blankets and walked to the door. A wave of emotions rushed through you; anxiety, hopefulness, excitement, and joy. It was a weird mix and you had to compose yourself before opening the door. It was Maria. Today was full of surprises. “I haven’t finished my mission report.” Truth be told, you haven’t even started the report. The idea of having to relive the past 48 hours made your stomach turn. “I’ll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning.”

“I’m not looking for your report.” Oh. Before you could question why the Deputy Director was at your door she continued, “I read T’Challa’s.” Oh. You didn’t know the King of Wakanda needed to write mission reports.

“Oh.” You said, looking down at your feet. “I uh well you know how things went down then.” You felt tears in the corner of your eyes. A headache was forming and your chest hurt as you held back the tears. Maria held out her hand.

“Do you want to go on an adventure with me?” She asked. It was a strange deja vu moment. How many times have you stood in front of the team with your hand out hoping they took it? You wanted to crawl back into bed and ignore the world but you took her hand. You barely got the chance to close your door before Maria dragged you to the elevator. She pressed the button and waited for the metal door.

“Where are we going?” You asked. She gave you a smile.

“The roof.” She said as the doors opened. The roof of the compound was your favorite place. It allowed you a place to sit in silence; to feel the wind, listen to the trees, and look at the stars on a clearless night. The roof also allowed you to get away from everyone when you needed a break from their emotions. The elevator opened and you stepped onto the roof. The normal bare roof was transformed. A protector was set up, playing the intro to Hercules. It was one of your comfort movies. In front of the projector - were an assortment of pillows and blankets. Yelena was sitting on some of the pillows with a bowl of popcorn trying to throw pieces into Sam’s mouth while Bucky watched. Natasha and Steve were pouring chips into bowls.

“What is this?” You asked. Your voice caused your teammates to look at you.

“This,” Sam answered. “Is our version of the talk you give us.” You looked at him confused. Maria led you to the pillow fort and you sat down. Steve and Natasha joined you.

“You are always there for us no matter what we are feeling without us needing to ask.” Maria explained.

“This is us doing it for you.” Bucky shrugged. “Words aren’t our strength but Maria thought a movie might help.” The SHIELD agent blushed at being called out that this was her idea.

“We can watch it with you or if you prefer to watch it by yourself, that’s okay too.” Steve said. It was weird, you were feeling no overpowering emotions from them just you own. You were overwhelmed.

“Uh, stay please.” You cleared your throat. “Please stay.” Yelena smiled.

“We got you, dorogoy.” You found yourself resting your head on Maria’s lap with Yelena laying next to you as Natasha started the movie.

“Do you think Thor has met Hercules?” Natasha asked as the muses began to tell the story.

“He’s met Zeus, so probably.” You said, taking a handful of popcorn.

“Sh,” Sam said, throwing a piece of candy at you. You gasped, taking the candy and unwrapping it. You eat it. “Stop talking.”

“Can we sing?” Yelena asked, glancing at him. He thought about it.

“I will allow singing.” Yelena gave you a high five. You were feeling better surrounded by people that loved you.

As the credits began to roll, the reality of the situation you experienced crashed down on you. You turned your head into Maria’s lap and bit back a sob. Her hands immediately wento your back, soothing your cries. “We weren’t fast enough,” Your words were muffled but you knew you had their attention as the movie was muted. “Everytime I close my eyes I see that shipping container. Gods, I wish we were faster.” You cried. How many families had to be notified? Families were broken. Sons and daughters were lost. Siblings were never coming home. “They were right.” You said. The words of your parents echoed in your mind. Failure. Worthless.

“Who are you talking about, malen’kiy slon (little elephant)?” Natasha asked.

“My parents.” You felt Maria tense up. “They didn’t just not want me to become an Avenger but they said I wasn’t good enough to become one. They said I’d fail.”

“No,” Natasha said. You heard movement and soon you felt warm hands on your arms and pulled you into a seated position. “I won’t sit here and let you think bad about yourself. They were wrong.”

“Nat.” You said, slowly.

“She’s right.” You looked at Bucky. “What happened in Uganda wasn’t your fault.” You looked down, feeling shame creep around you. Maybe if one of them took the mission the outcome would have been different. You weren’t an Avenger. You weren’t a hero.

“Why do you like the stars so much?” Sam asked. The question caused your spiraling thoughts to stop. You didn’t look up.

“I like them because of the stories they tell.” Steve answered. “History is persevered in the night sky.” You smiled, looking up.

“I think they are pretty to look at.” Yelena added. “It’s amazing to think we live underneath such a work of art.” Your smile crew. It was an interesting feeling being on the other side of your silly little question game.

“I like them.” You began. “Because they are a reminder that we aren’t alone. While you are looking at the stars someone else could be looking at them too.” You let out a shaky breath. “And..hundreds of years ago someone was standing in your exact spot, looking at the same stars.”

“Exactly,” Maria said softly. “We’ll carry you home. You’re not alone. Keep marching on.”

“This is worth fighting for.” Sam said. Natasha gave your arms a gentle squeeze. You looked at the red head.

“You know we’ve all got battle scars.”

“You’ve had enough. Just don’t give up.” Steve said.

“You are worth fighting for.” Yelena smiled. “Just keep marching on.” You nodded, whipping away your tears. You laughed.

“I thought you said you guys were bad with words.” You joked.

“We learned from the best.” Maria smiled.

“Thank you,” You said. “Thank you for this. Can we watch another movie?” You asked.

“Anything you need.”

“Ooo I get to pick.” Yelena jumped up and picked The Incredibles. She laid back next to you, grabbing your hand.

“Great choice.” Bucky said. You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. You didn’t care as you leaned back in Maria’s arms. The Avengers were fighters, soldiers, and righteous. They were once lost, broken, and defeated. But they all had battle scars. As the movie began you were grateful to call them family and home.

I’m not the type of person to ask for help but I feel a little helpless. Hurricane Ian devested my home town (I don’t live in Florida anymore) but I lived where the path of the hurricane directly hit for 13 years. That being said my grandfather lives down there and his house was damaged. My grandfather hasn’t had the easiest few years. His wife (my grandmother) passed away 2 years ago during COVID, he’s recently been put on oxygen, and he’s a lone done there. My parents are working on getting down there but the city is a mess and he’s without power and electricity.

I’ve added my kofi donation page to this story. All donations no matter how big or small will go directly to helping my grandfather get back on his feet and help get my parents down there. They will be missing work by going down there so it will help with bills.

I appreciate all the support and love you all have given me. If you happen to donate I’d love to write you a personal story for a fandom of your choice. Any amount will help.

Much love. -Arlana

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