#a bloody murderous bond | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iwaasfairy · 7 months ago

Text

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #tw.pseudocest #tw.grooming #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.dark content #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu yuuta

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queenpiranhadon · 3 months ago

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parts 1 , 2, 3

You and Katsuki have been close. You always have been. You've always have a close bond with him ever since you, Kirishima and himself were trapped together during the USJ incident, and consequently, you saved his life from a villain.

The sheer determination in your eyes... he knew that you would be an amazing hero.

But unlike Deku, he didn't feel threatened by your presence, no.

You were just...different.

You were special to him, as he was to you. Everyone knew that.

Katsuki just didn't know why.

Why did he feel like he couldn't breathe when he wakes up from a nightmare without you by his side?

Why does he feel like the sun shines just a little bit brighter to make you glow like the angel you were.

And why did you always seem to make him want to smile, a big smile that stretched across his face, big and goofy as if he was 9 years old again.

Why?

Because he loved you.

But he realized it too late.

He never stopped loving you, no, and neither you him.

It was just the wrong time and the wrong place.

Because, this time, the League knew what his breaking point was, what it would take to force Bakugou Katsuki to join their ranks.

This time, they had you.

Bakugou Katsuki, only in his first year of UA, kidnapped by the League of Villains during the disastrous battle at the attempted summer camp UA hosted, was chained to his seat, unable to move, both because of his physical restraints, but his emotional ones too.

"You join us, and we won't hurt her."

There, on the low quality TV was camera footage of a room with while walls and tiling. That room was your hospital room.

You were asleep, your precious body littered in bandages. Katsuki wanted to scream bloody murder, sob his eyes out or even tear the eyes out of the League who was grinning victoriously at the sight of the murderous defeat in his eyes.

He couldn't fight back.

Not when you weren't safe.

How could he have been so stupid?!

Why wasn't he strong enough to protect you?!

This time, Bakugou Katsuki didn't run away with his fellow students.

Instead, he stood there numbly, feeling his heart break apart piece by piece until it was completely shattered unable to do anything as he watched you scream at him with tears in your eyes until your throat went raw, red lines appearing on Todoroki's forearms as he holds you back, preventing you from running to your best friend.

Your Katsuki.

But it was too late.

He thinks he left his heart behind when he left you that day. stepping back into the inky darkness that got him into this situation in the first place.

The last thing he saw of you was the gut wrenching love in your eyes as you watching him slip away.

The pain, the agony, the desperation, the relief of knowing he was alive - it all came from the love you felt for him.

But love was dangerous.

And he knew that better than anyone.

A/N: Lowk sobbing at this rn should I make a part two?? This girlie is a sucker for happy endings

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ellievickstar · 7 months ago

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Sinner's Sacrifice

A/N: Here's part 2 of Bloodied Bonds , i'm going for alliteration in the title hahah. it's a lot shorter than the first part i wish i made it longer but i feel like i was stretching it out i know i know it sucks to wait for parts i really wanted it to only be two parts long but i really had a "my story has it's own ideas" moment T^T. I'm so so sorry towards anyone who thought this would be the last part I can assure you I thought that too. I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: As Azriel struggles to navigate a situation where he could lose you no matter what he chooses, take a look into his own heart.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying, self-sacrificing thoughts

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel had lost count of how many hours it had been since he had threatened to eventually murder Elain.

And he was losing damned mind.

Every single day he had sat in the chair beside your sleeping form….you were breathing, which was an improvement from the heaving and choking in your sleep that alarmed Madja enough to order the inner circle to start taking turns watching over you. Madja believed that your condition improved because he was finally turning away from Elain, but that was what the bond sensed. Without your mind, your own belief to ensure your heart, your condition was bound to deteriorate again.

And yet you could not wake up so he could explain.

So he could apologise.

So he could beg for your forgiveness.

Everyday without making the decision to let Madja just remove the roots of the flowers seemed like a gamble, but after what had been discovered, what Cassian had caught Elain doing, the entire inner circle was not sure if it would be better to let your relationship go, or let you go.

Both scenarios, Azriel would lose.

In both situations, Azriel would lose you forever and a part of him felt like maybe he deserved it. If you ever woke up, ever wanted revenge to make him feel guilty for what had been done, regardless the fact that it had been out of his control, you would have gotten it in spades when he realised that his ignorance, his belief that he could help just one more person, his blindness to the Elain’s darkness, had caused him a situation that would cost him no matter what he did.

And in that, all he could do daily was hold your hand, and weep.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Go shower Azriel. It’s been three days,” Cassian said softly. The shadowsinger merely moved his head to gaze at his friend who leaned against the door frame. Not out of habit but because he genuinely needed the support. Azriel saw the eyebags under Cassian’s eyes, his tired exhausted expression not far from the one Azriel wore.

When Azriel simply shook his head, bringing his gaze back to his mate, not wanting to move another muscle, Cassian groaned.

“Azriel she won’t die within the time it takes you to take a quick bath, please, you need it,” However, Azriel once again did not move, this time not even deigning Cassian a response. The latter simply sighed before making his way towards Rhys’s office, pushing the door open to see Rhysand surrounded by various books, piles of them in the corner, some of them discarded with pages torn out.

“Rhys…?” Cassian knocked on the slightly ajar door.

Violet eyes met Cassian’s hazel ones and Rhys simply let out a breath before standing, checking the time by glancing at the window behind him, “Ah…it’s dark….I did not notice,” He simply stated awkwardly, moving to gather up some of the books from his desk, no doubt to bring it with him to his and Feyre’s room to further study until the waking hours of the next morning.

It broke Cassian’s heart to see his brothers in such a state.

Broke his own heart to see you lying there completely unconscious, every few days needing Madja to extract flowers from your throat.

The women of the house had isolated themselves to their own rooms. Mor came to your room every few hours to check on you however she stayed in her room surrounded by a similar book pile as Rhys, trying to consult her own oracles of truth to see if they had any answers. Amren had gone over to the summer court with Varian to see if they had any records that the Night Court did not, Nesta looked through the libraries with the priestesses, passing anything she found that may be useful to Feyre who scanned through them.

All this and nothing.

They had come up short.

Contacting Thesan, Helion, even Tamlin to see if there was any connections of the disease to the spring court, had come to nothing. No answers. No solutions.

Finally, as Cassian rounded the corner of the house he entered the room they had been keeping Elain in. There she was chained to the ground staring at the wall. For a moment Cassian would have felt bad for how hollow she looked, however his guilt was quickly swallowed by the anger he felt for what she had done to cause your current state.

“I see how you can help her…” Elain suddenly said, her eyes flitting to Cassian, “When minds connect, when you travel through souls,” She hummed before continuing to fiddle with the hem of her dress. Her cheeks were sunken in and hollow, her eyes now held a sharp and piercing stare instead of the soft glint. For once, Elain Archeron’s true colours were on full display.

At her words however, Cassian froze, his tone dropping to a dangerous timbre, “Do you know how to save Y/N,” Elain hummed, “I’ll tell you….for a price.”

“Do you really think that you are in a position to bargain?”

“She’s running out of time isn’t she?”

Cassian bit down on his tongue, hard. Storming out of the room he slammed the door shut, letting out a pained and frustrated roar.

Elain knew. Or at least there was a possibility that she knew. However, her calm demeanour and unflinching attitude showed Cassian no signs of lies. She knew how to save you but she wanted something out of it.

With a silent prayer, Cassian swore to himself he’d find the way to save you even if he had to pry it out of the memories in Elain’s dead body.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“So she knows how to save my sister,” Rhys confirmed, Cassian nodded, “That’s what she claims. If she’s lying then she’s damned good at it, however she’s suggesting a bargain, I didn’t pry into the details she was thinking of.”

Not without Rhysand himself present.

Not without Azriel.

The three brothers looked at each other, Azriel’s hand was holding yours, had been holding yours since Rhysand and Cassian had come into the room saying that they had something to discuss.

“We should ask her what she wants,” Azriel muttered softly, his voice hoarse and raspy from not using it for a while.

“And if she asks for your hand?” Cassian challenged, “Then we’ll find a way to break the bargain like how Feyre and Rhysand did, but for now our focus is to save her.”

It was then Rhysand recognised his brother for once after all this time, the shadow singer who would do anything to keep you safe, the self-sacrificing spy master who would sacrifice himself, his choices just to save you.

“Let’s go then,” Rhysand concluded, standing from his stool, Cassian pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and Azriel graced the back of your hand with a soft kiss before standing, casting you one last glance before following his brothers out. Nesta replaced Azriel’s position on the stool, promising the shadow singer to keep watch of you until he returned.

Following his brothers down the hallway, Azriel’s mind flooded with memories of sneaking down these halls to get away with you, memories of coming home and seeing you in the hallway, collapsing into your loving arms. Thoughts of your love and you consumed him and he shuddered under the weight of his own grief.

He could not lose you.

He would not lose you.

And so as Azriel stepped into the room of Elain’s captivity, levelling her with a glare, inside Azriel knew that he would sacrifice anything just to hold you.

Part 3 is here!!

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: please reply if you want to be tagged in part 3 people tagged in part 2 will not be tagged again in part 3 unless they ask in replies. Thank you <3

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl @helloworlditsmesblo (please ask if you want to be added to AZRIEL'S taglist - this is NOT the same as part 3 taglist)

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel x reader #azriel angst #rhysand #azriel spymaster

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sttoru · 8 months ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER II: you smuggle the wounded man into your dorm room and nurse him back to health in secret. a fragile bond forms between you and the stranger - whose name you learn is toji - as you spend your first night together.

word count. 6.6k-ish

tags. assassin!toji fushiguro x college student!female reader. sfw. bits of angst. mentions of blood, knives, murder. reader gets called 'woman'. general warnings: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's). chapter one here

Three. Two. One.

You accept your miserable fate with a gulp. You prepare yourself for the unbearable pain that awaits your body until the last breath leaves your lungs. You hope the anguish lasts for a second or two before your vision turns pitch black. Before your soul meets its maker. Or before it gets lost somewhere more peaceful than this life you've led.

Closing your eyes, waiting for the impact, and uttering your final words in your head felt like eternity. Maybe the man is playing with your emotions before he decides to make an end to your life. Perhaps he is such a nasty psycho. And you can’t believe that out of all people who could’ve met him tonight on the street, you did.

You sniff. Life is unfair. Even at your final moments, you couldn’t help but feel you got the short end of the stick. You wait and wait, but your death doesn’t arrive. You sigh and ask whoever can hear your thoughts to make it quick.

“Shit,” Your ‘murderer’ coughs. It sounds like a painful cough, one that came out the back of his throat. You hear metal clattering on wet concrete not a second later. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise, your vision instantly filling with a frightening sight. You watch as the injured man starts to cough up blood. He’s unable to lift a finger in that state of his.

This is your chance to make a run for it. The voice in your head is screaming at you to move and get yourself to safety. It’s a perfect opportunity to get help. But something inside of you is urging you to stay.

Any normal person would have escaped by now.

‘I must be out of my mind,’ you silently think. You don’t loosen the grip you have on your scarf, the one pressed against the man’s open wound. Your body is yelling at you��begging you to move away—yet your heart is pleading to stay put. There is no way your body wins over the strong will of your heart. Your soul, that’s strangely connected to his, a man that threatened to kill you without hesitation.

You surely have lost your mind.

“Sir, oh my god,” you panic. You chose to stay, however have no clue what to do. You’re trying your best to think of a solution to all of this. Your eyes catch a glimpse of your now wet phone laying in a puddle of rain. You hope it still works. Well, even if it does, you surely can’t call an ambulance for the man. He had stated that he didn’t want any help.

If you consider the possibility of him being a murderer, you’d understand that he wouldn’t want an ambulance to be involved. You shake your head as your body desperately tries to continue fighting against your heart’s desires. ‘Sympathizing with a possible murderer. God I really must have gone insane,’ you curse yourself out in your head.

The sound of heavy breathing brings you back into the current moment. You catch the way the bloodied man is trying to regain his strength. You try to coax him into staying still, “sir, please don’t move. It could worsen your injury.”

You voicing your worries only causes the man to try and push you away. Despite his weakened state, the little push he gives you is enough to make you lose the grip on your crimson stained scarf. You watch in pure horror as more blood pours down his black shirt, onto his white pants.

“No, please. Please listen to me,” you don’t know why you’re begging a grown man, a killer, to listen to you for his own sake. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in your dorm room, in your cozy bed, watching a series while it pours outside. You shouldn’t be playing the hero to a stranger.

You think quickly. The only option you have aside from an ambulance, is to try and help him out to your best ability. You don’t have anything with you that could help, but you do have some rubbing alcohol in your dorm. That could work as a disinfectant. Stitching his wound up is the real challenge.

“Okay, uhm,” you try to think of a way to do this as smoothly as possible. You quickly grab the knife from the ground and shiver at the sight of the blood on the handle. Time is ticking and it won’t be long until the man in front of you loses his consciousness and possibly… dies.

You take off your coat, making haste to do so. Your hands are trembling, and your heart is stammering. You hiss as you tear apart the material of your coat using the sharp knife. The leather should help slow down the bleeding. Even if it’s only for a little bit. That’s all you really need.

“Here,” you quickly replace the scarf with the cut piece of your coat. You wrap it around his waist and fasten it, making sure it doesn’t slip off. The man does not say a word nor does he fight you off. All the resistance is gone from his weary body. That should tell you enough; he’s barely holding on. His heavy yet faint breathing is the only sign that reassures you that he’s not fallen unconscious.

You collect your bag and all the other things scattered on the dirty ground of the alleyway. You don’t want to leave any evidence of you being here, helping an alleged killer with getting away. Your heart tells you it’s fine, but your body is telling you that you’ll regret all of it. Time will tell which is the truth.

You stand up. Barely. Your knees are nearly giving out on you because of the stress and anxiety, though the adrenaline pumping through your blood is helping you stay composed. Your eyes follow the flow of the man’s blood as it mixes with the rainwater on the concrete. You can’t clean that up. The only thing you can do about it is pray—pray that the rain will wash all of it away. Down the drains.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, checking in on the stranger. He doesn’t answer. You crouch down in front of him, a worried expression on your face as you carefully move the hair from his eyes. They’re closed. You freak out and your initial reaction is to gently tap his cheek for any sign of life, “sir? Sir? Don’t tell me he’s—"

“Shut up,” his gruff voice echoes in your ears. It seems like he still wants you gone, though is not trying to actively shoo you away anymore. Not like he can in the awful state he is in.

The stranger coughs again, his eyelids opening just halfway before closing again. You sigh in relief and move next to him. You lift his arm so that it loosely sits on your shoulders. You grunt softly—the muscles in them makes it a tough job. You try asking him for his compliance, “I’ll help you stand up, okay?”

As expected, you’re met with silence. You take it as an agreement and use all the strength left in your limbs to get up on your feet. It’s a struggle, with you nearly toppling over thrice, but you eventually get the co-operation you’re looking for. The bloodied stranger slowly but surely manages to stand up straight with your aid.

You’re shocked by his large stature. He was intimidating enough when seated, but now that he’s towering over you, his aura is reaching high levels of unsettling. You hope he’s got enough drive left to move his feet. You can’t expect your frail arms to half carry a six-foot-something man.

“Hang in there,” you mutter, trying to cover the anxiety you’re internally facing. You look ahead and move forward in small strides, the steps you’re making are wobbly, as are his. You look up and try to gauge the man’s reactions, though his eyes are once again covered by his wet bangs. All you can make out is the slight twitch of his scarred lips. He’s in pain.

You manage to escape that damned back alley. Your bag is soaked, as are your clothes. You take one quick glance back before you turn the corner and once again pray that the rain washes the blood away. You take the quietest and fastest route back to your dorm.

A couple people pass you by. They don’t look at you funny nor do they bat an eye to the man you’re helping keep balance. They have their own lives that they need to take care of first. The pouring rain makes it harder for them to concentrate on anything else as well. Besides, the material of your coat wrapped around the man’s waist covers up most of the blood. It’s not visible to others.

If someone were to describe the image of the stranger and you from an outsider’s perspective, they’d think you’re just helping your drunk partner back home. It’s not an uncommon sight in the busy streets of Tokyo, especially in the evening.

“Where...” The stranger speaks up, his deep voice hoarser than before. He unexpectedly grips your shoulder. His meaty fingers digging into your flesh makes you wince. He’s only using a small bit of his actual strength and you’re already in pain. You push through and continue helping him forward. “Fuck,” He cusses. He’s starting to become deluded due to the blood loss and pain, “where ‘re—”

The tall man coughs, interrupting himself. You cringe at the sound of that excruciating sound. You could see the lights in the distance. The ones you’re used to seeing when coming back to campus after a night out with your friend. Now, you’re coming back with an unknown man. An alleged killer that you’re bringing into the building. You don’t even want to think about all the lives you could potentially put in danger.

You try to avert your attention. Now is not the time for that. Your gut feeling says so. You need to figure out a way to sneak this man inside your room without anyone finding out. Not the security guards, hall monitors or students: No one can know. You answer his question with clear doubt in your voice, not knowing if you’ll both even make it, “safety. To safety.”

All the thoughts about your poor life decisions get pushed to the side. You grunt and try to increase your speed, having difficulty dragging the man with you. You’re sweating. The amount of strength you need to put in to take only one step is severely draining. You remember that there is one path that doesn’t have much surveillance cameras hanging around. It’s the one you and a couple others use to sneak back into your dorms very late at night.

“Almost,” you try to encourage the stranger, whose silence is quite eerie. You hope he’s holding on. The way he’s dragging his feet over the bricks tells you that he’s trying to keep conscious. You hurry up and get to the hidden exit at the back.

It’s locked on some days, so you let out a breath of relief when you manage to push it open. That spares you the trouble of having to go through the main entrance and risk getting caught. Plus, you don’t have to use and show your student card now that you’ve infiltrated the building. You hope that there aren’t many people around this side, praying that they’re all eating dinner somewhere.

The creaking of the door is ten times louder than it is usually. Or it could be the fear in your body restructuring your thoughts. Luckily, your dorm room is only one flight of stairs up. You can’t take the elevator because of the cameras in it. You look over at the man leaning against your shoulder, his head tilting to the side in exhaustion.

“Christ,” The stranger grunts. His head sways a little closer to yours unintentionally and your breath hitches. For a split second, he rests the side of his head against yours, too tired to move away. It makes your heart stammer for a moment. To have this coldhearted man lean on you, depend on you, and lay his life in your hands.

You’re filled with another rush of adrenaline. “Are you still holding up okay?” your quiet voice snaps the man out of his disoriented state. He only then realizes that he’s leaning his heavy weight on your small stature. He grumbles and tilts his head the other way again, away from yours. He clearly hates to be vulnerable. Especially around a random girl he does not have any business with.

Without getting an answer back, you carefully make haste to your dorm room. Your room is the first one in the entire row, located the surveillance camera's dead zone, which works out in your favor again.

You hold in your breath and try to fish the keys out of your pocket. Your fingers move the old and now wet receipts and garbage to the sides, pulling the desired object out from between them. You fumble with the keys, your fingers trembling as you try to grab the right one.

The intimidating stranger looks down at your hand through a blurry vision. You’re in a hurry to open the door and avoid being caught. Someone could turn the corner right now and you’d be busted. He huffs in annoyance, though voices no audible complaints. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows you’re helping him and that you have zero ill intent.

“Sorry,” you whimper before finally unlocking your door. You hurriedly get in an shut it behind you. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Figuratively in this case, since you still have a whole man leaning on you. You help him over to your bed and carefully assist him down.

You’re ignoring your own boundaries for the nth time. The ones you are so adamant to follow in any other situation. You would never let someone sit on your bed with their outside clothes still on, especially not if they’re dirtied and wet. You’re tolerating it for now. All for this man that you have a sudden, unfathomable attraction to.

You don’t have time to think. You rush to your wardrobe and pull the drawer open. You search for a first aid kit. You had it laying somewhere—though never used. Your parents had given you it in case of an emergency. Which is right now.

You find a whole bunch of gauze rolls and a bottle of antiseptic liquid along with bandages, scissors, and pain killers. You have zero clue on how to treat a wound. You only saw such stuff in action movies and cartoons. You grab a needle and thread that you had laying around. A towel and a tissue box as well. Just anything that’s redeemed relevant for the situation.

You drop everything on your bed and fiddle around on what to use first. You’re tempted to grab your phone and look up some instructions on the internet, but you quickly get interrupted by a bloody hand reaching out for the disinfectant. You watch with worry as the man gets to work—not expecting any help from an oblivious girl like you. He’s gone through this before.

“Get some water.” The man huffs, undoing the coat around his waist slowly. You only have a few seconds to act. You look around frantically and find an old water bottle on your nightstand. You hand it to him, and he nearly yanks it from your hand, still showing that stubborn reluctance around you. There’s not a thank you in sight as he gets to work.

You can tell that the stranger has stitched up his own wounds many times before. It makes you think back to your initial thoughts. The thoughts about his occupation. His skills would be self-explanatory if he were to be an actual murderer. Having to deal with these types of wounds would be an everyday experience.

Yet, instead of being alarmed at the possibility, you manage to feel bad for his situation. You helplessly watch as he pours nearly the entire bottle on his wound, getting rid of any debris that’s got on it. He clearly does not care about the wet stains it’s created on your sheets. They’re messy anyway. “Give me that,” the injured man comments and nods at the needle and thread with his head.

You do as told, staying silent as you let the professional do what he knows is best. He cleans the needle with the antiseptic fluid and prepares the wound some more. You want to advise him to at least use some pain killers before he goes to work on it, however they’d take too long to take effect. There is no time to do all of that.

“Ah,” you hiss, like you’re the one experiencing the pain, as you notice how he’s starting the suture near the edge of his wound. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to the side, not wanting to witness the gruesome scene. A few occasional grunts and groans sounding from the man leave you nauseous. You can’t imagine what he’s going through at the moment, cleaning and stitching up his own injury. He seemed to know what he was doing, so you don’t comment on it any further.

After a couple seconds pass, you hear another pained hiss. You can’t stand it. You’re just sitting at the edge of your bed, hoping for the best. Hoping that he could make use of all that you provided him with. “Can I help somehow?” You breathlessly ask, your voice a quiet whisper.

“Yeah, by shutting up,” The older man answers bluntly. He’s fixated on healing his wound the best he could, and your voice is disrupting that focus. He’s made some progress with the suture. It isn’t done under perfect circumstances, but he’s used to it. His body has been through enough since childhood to have built up a resilience to most things. The pain and discomfort are nothing he isn’t familiar with.

You bite your lip and apologize for asking him something, “sorry.” His deep voice makes you shiver. It only reminds you of the fact that you have a grown man in your room. A possible killer on the loose. You don’t push your luck and just remain silent. You don’t want to end up as another victim.

Though you have a feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. Where that feeling came from, you have no idea. It could be your delusions, however you’re sure he wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. Maybe it’s due to that little moment of vulnerability he showed in the halls moments ago. Your body warms up at the memory of how his head laid against yours for a split second.

The man finishes off the suture with a firm surgeon knot. He cleans the remaining blood with the tissues he’s drowned in disinfectant. You look his way again when you hear him shifting in his place. Your baffled as you notice how he’s trying to stand up. You don’t know much about wounds, but you know for certain that someone cannot stand up after getting an injury stitched. It could reopen the wound.

Your hand moves on its own. You firmly grab the man’s wrist and tug him back down on your bed. The stranger lets out a surprised grunt and instinctively slaps your hand away. He wants to leave.

To him, it’s nothing serious. This is just another day in his life. He’s used to ignoring his body’s pleas for rest. Vulnerability does not look good on him. He hates it.

The older man parts his lips to defend himself, yet quickly decides on the opposite. He shuts his mouth once his eyes met your pretty ones. They’re glimmering with tears. He does not realize why you’re suddenly so upset. Nor does he actually care... He thinks.

He just wants to leave before you ask too many questions. It’s best to act like you two have never met. For his sake and yours.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. The silence creates an undeniable tension between you both. You don’t exchange words, though you think he knows what you mean with that look you’re giving him. You’re indirectly begging him to stay still and rest. You know he needs it. He secretly knows he needs it as well, though does not want to acknowledge that weakness.

The stranger sighs in frustration. He looks down at the wound he’s worked hard to patch up. His head hurts. His eyelids are heavy. His limbs are unresponsive. He has no other choice but to lay back. He promises himself that he’d leave after an hour or two. He wants to have nothing to do with you.

A college girl helping him. Who would’ve thought that day would come. Did he become that weak? He has always refused the help of others, so what would make this any different? He can leave and deal with the consequences of that poor decision on his own. However, his body doesn’t move an inch.

The man frowns as he realizes that his cold and distant attitude would get him nowhere this time. His body is actively resisting the urges to leave.

You cautiously ascertain his reactions. You notice the way he slumps back against your pillows with a curse word leaving his lips. You can’t help but feel relieved. You don’t know why, but you’re happy that he’s staying with you. Even if it’s just for a little longer. You want to make sure he’s going to be fine.

You nod silently and don’t say a word for a good while. You don’t want to annoy the man more than you already have. You get up, knees buckling as the adrenaline wears you down. You’re glad you haven’t been caught and that the man you saved didn’t die. You’re tired from everything that went down in the last hour or so.

Though, you cannot rest.

You clean up the mess around your bed. The used, bloody tissues. The rain that’s dripped down your clothes and onto the floor, making small puddles on the surface. The piece of leather you had used as a temporary solution for the stranger’s bleeding. After you’ve gotten rid of all that, you finally take off your coat and shoes. You want to take a bath as soon as possible. And dry your hair.

You don’t take your eyes off the man on your bed. He’s starting to stir again, which could mean one of two things. He’s either trying to escape or trying to change his position. To your surprise, you catch him pull his shirt over his head. The older man’s ripped physique comes into view. Faint veins run down his beefy arms, his abs are perfectly defined, and his waist compliments his bulky stature.

You’re staring. You only realize it when your eyes catch the way he’s attempting to wrap some gauze around his lower abdomen. You can tell that he’s struggling, but he does not ask for help. Nor does he even look your way—acting like it’s just him in the room. It’s easy to conclude that he’s never depended on anyone in his life. It saddens you.

You walk over to your bed and sit down at the edge. You wordlessly reach out to grab the roll of gauze from his hand. Your fingers brush against his palm while you do so, and you can feel the rough calluses on his skin. You don’t comment on it but make a mental note of your discovery.

You carefully wrap the gauze around his waist once. You’re as cautious as you could be, not wanting to inflict any more discomfort on the stranger. He doesn’t resist. He’s too tired to do so. Alhough, that doesn’t stop him from showing his complaints about the situation through his distant body language. His eyes are staring at the nearby wall, his expression as stoic as ever.

You go around with the roll of gauze once more. You lean a bit closer to his torso to properly do your job. You can’t help but feel a tiny bit embarrassed by your proximity. Neither of you says anything about it. He doesn’t move away, and you take that as a sign to continue tending to him.

The older man can’t help but feel that urging desire to push you away and leave. He doesn’t want to be involved in any of this. You weren’t supposed to find him. You weren’t supposed to help him. You weren’t supposed to bring him back here. He hates the idea of letting someone – you - get close to him. He hates letting others in his personal space.

“What’s your name, sir?” Your soothing voice breaks the silence. You’re still visibly nervous, but also a lot less panicky. He finally looks down at you, seeing you put the gauze in place before grabbing a roll of bandages. He hates your touch.

The stranger clenches his jaw. He had to have scared you away in that back alley. He couldn’t and that’s what got him in such a predicament. One that triggers his many internal issues and struggles. He hates having to talk about himself to others. That’s how most bonds form.

“None of your damn business, girl,” The older man growls. His tone is harsh and cold, but you don’t back away nor even flinch. That only serves to irk him more. You’re meant to cower in fear, leave him alone and never turn back, but you do the complete opposite. You don’t know him and yet still choose to take care of him.

You nod, not pushing the matter any further. The injured stranger narrows his eyes for a second. Nothing seems to work on you. His intention is to scare you off, though the more he tries, the more you seem to get closer. It’s got the total opposite effect and he despises it.

He hates it all. Your closeness, your need to help him, your eyes that stare up at him with such worry, your hands bandaging him up. He promised himself, the day his wife died a couple years ago, that he’ll never involve himself with people if it isn’t for business related matters.

He’s managed to live all by himself for all those years and reached a level of independence that others could only dream of. Now it’s shattered. It feels like he’s back to square one because of your choice today. The choice to help a total random stranger.

The older man closes his eyes for a second and sighs deeply. It’s foolish of him to think of such unimportant matters. He’ll just use this to his advantage. He’ll use you, your kindness and everything you have to offer for his own sake. He’ll exploit you like he’s done to many other women before. That’s the way he’s used to treating others.

He’ll indulge your need to help him and try to act nice to satisfy those innocent wishes of yours. Just for his sake and his sake only, he promises himself.

The older man eventually speaks up again after you managed to bandage him up properly, “…Toji.”

You raise your eyebrows. You guess that that’s his name. Your lips curl up into a faint smile, feeling thankful that Toji decided to reveal that little detail about him. You grab his bloodied shirt and put it with the rest of your clothes that you need to wash. Your eyes wander over his exposed upper body for a split second, looking for any other possible injuries, only to find none. You nod in satisfaction as you grab a washcloth and wet it with some water, “that’s a nice name.”

That’s a first. Toji didn’t see the significance of complimenting someone’s name. Everyone has one, it’s not special, so why would you tell him it’s nice? Maybe he just doesn’t understand sentimental stuff like that. He’s not made out for such things. “Hm,” he lets out a small hum in acknowledgement and that’s all you get.

You walk towards him again and brush his bangs to the side. Toji holds himself back from moving away from your touch, but then remembers the decision he made mentally just moments ago. He’ll use that kindness of yours to his advantage until he’s all healed up. Then he’ll leave for good.

You place the cold cloth on his forehead. You know he’ll have a fever throughout the night because of the wound he’s suffered. You’re simply preparing him for that. You grab the painkillers that are scattered around the bed and place them on your nightstand, along with the water bottle. If he needs it, he’ll grab it, you think.

“Ah, sorry,” You snap out of it and realise that you haven’t introduced yourself properly. You might as well, considering you’ll be having Toji as your roommate for a couple days. Or at least you hope he stays that long until he’s all healed up. You continue, “my name is..”

“I already know.” Toji cuts you off before you’re able to reveal your name. You’re dumbfounded for a second. What does he mean by ‘he knows’? You tilt your head in confusion. You try to figure out how he could’ve possibly learnt your name but are unable to make any assumptions.

Toji easily notices your bewilderment. He admits that that could’ve come over as extremely creepy. He looks at the nearby wall and points at the decorations with his chin. You follow his gaze and instantly recognize what he’s staring at. It’s a picture with your friends that you have framed. They gifted it to you some time back and had engraved your name in the frame.

Toji must have cautiously examined his new surroundings whilst you were busy finalizing the treatment for his injury. You understand the need for that. Anyone would be wary in a new environment. “Hehe. Right,” he’s quite observant, you think to yourself.

You look outside of your window and close the tiny gap between your curtains. Even if you’re on the second floor, you don’t want to risk anyone finding out about what you did tonight. It still hasn’t properly processed in your brain; the fact that you have smuggled an alleged killer into your dorm. Maybe it will hit once you sleep and wake up tomorrow.

You look down at Toji with great concern. Even if the wound has been taken care of, you’re unsure if it’s even enough. A doctor would’ve been the safest option. But seeing how great Toji is handling the pain, you guess that it’ll be just fine. You glance at your hands. They have some dried blood on them. You also reek of the rain since you’re still uncomfortably soaked from before.

You decide to go take a shower. Before that, you make sure Toji has everything he needs. You give him a towel to dry himself off and make sure he can reach the first aid kit if needed. You stare at the pile of bloodied and wet clothes in the corner of your room. Both his and yours. You’ll take them to the laundry mat tomorrow.

You avert your attention back to Toji. He’s lying on his back, head turned away to the wall so he wouldn’t have to see you or look you in the eyes. It’s like he’s in his own world. You speak up again, this time a little louder, “are you gonna be alright now?”

Silence again. Toji doesn’t face you and keeps his eyes closed for some peace of mind. He sounds indifferent and distant as he answers you, “who knows.”

The ambiguous answer certainly doesn’t help ease your anxiety. You don’t want the older man to regress back to a state of near unconsciousness again. Despite your wishes, you can’t do much about it. Calling an ambulance or asking for help from others is a big no-no. For you as well, since you’ll be dragged into a big mess if anyone were to find out you gave shelter to a murderer.

“Uhm, all right. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You announce quietly, not expecting a response. You would’ve preferred it if Toji did respond so you could leave your room for a couple minutes in peace. Without worrying about his condition. You know that you’re annoying him with the constant questions and comments, but you can’t help it. You’re worried. Even if he hates the attention and would love to have as less interaction with you as possible.

“D-Don’t move, ‘kay? I’ll be back.” You add quickly. You take a few steps towards the exit and place your hand on the door handle. Your limbs won’t take another step forward. You’re worried sick that Toji’s going to grab his chance and leave the moment you’re gone. You don’t want him to go. On one hand, it’s selfish of you, but on the other hand, it’s out of consideration for his situation.

You turn your head and glance at his still figure on your bed. His bulky stature nearly took up the entirety of it. You can’t help but ramble about your worries to him, hoping it’d convince him to stay, “If they find you, I’ll get in trouble and god knows what will happen to yo—”

“Just go, woman.” Toji’s deep voice rings through your ears. It’s the second time he’s cut you off. You’re pissing him off, clearly. You immediately zip it and do as told. You decide to put your trust in him and believe that he won’t take the opportunity to leave behind your back.

Without another word, you sneak out of your dorm room, making sure to close your door behind you. You act normal in case anyone walks by and finds your behaviour suspicious. You make a beeline towards the communal showers with your toiletry bag and pyjamas in hand.

Meanwhile, Toji is finally experiencing some real peace. He empties his mind, though cannot seem to get rid of your voice. He still can’t comprehend why somebody would be this worried for him. A college student who’d be at risk of being expelled if found out. You’re taking such great risks for a man like him? He doesn’t understand.

Toji rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands and groans in aggravation, “unbelievable.” Why he’s thinking it through is also something he cannot grasp. The man decides to enjoy the quiet atmosphere for now. He’s still somewhat disheveled from the entire ordeal and if he were to keep his brain running, he’d lose his mind completely. He drapes an arm over his eyes and lies there silently on the soft mattress.

A couple minutes pass. You feel like you’ve taken the quickest shower ever. You avoid as many students as possible while you make your way back to your dorm. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in. You open the door and peek through the crack. It’s pitch dark in the room. The sun had fully set a while back and your curtains cover any light from outside.

You lock your door and step forward carefully. You squint and wait for your vision to accommodate to the darkness. You approach your bed and finally let out that breath you’ve been holding in. He’s still there. Toji’s still where you left him. His chest is slowly moving up and down, his breathing steady as he rests.

You quietly turn on the nightlamp in your room. It casts a faint shadow over Toji’s face. He seems to be asleep. You can’t quite tell for sure since his bicep is nearly covering the entirety of his face, but you judge based on his breathing patterns. You sit on the edge of your bed and feel tired yourself after that eventful evening. You’re sleepy. The adrenaline has worn off and exhausted you to no end.

You glance down at the bandage around his torso. You’d have to change that for him tomorrow. For now, you’re content with the outcome of it all. You shift in your seat, which causes your hand to brush against Toji’s on the bed. You feel the warmth creep up to your head. His veiny hands still had stains of blood on the skin.

Now that Toji’s asleep, he won’t refuse your help. You grab a spare washcloth from your wardrobe and wet it with some water. You carefully lift Toji’s left hand. His palm touches yours and you find yourself enjoying the physical contact. His hand is heavy—bigger and rougher than yours. There are faint scars on his fingers which reminds you of his unknown identity.

All you’ve discovered until now is his name. His background is a mystery, and you have the feeling that it’s going to stay a mystery. You’ve realized by now that Toji does not open up to just anyone. You diligently clean the crimson stains from his left hand and move to do the same for the right one. You’re as careful as you can be, not wanting to wake the injured man from his well-deserved rest.

Once done, you put the washcloth away. You yawn and look at the clock. It’s nearly midnight already. You can’t sleep on your bed since it’s occupied, and it doesn’t fit two people. You look down at the soft carpet below your feet. That’ll have to do.

You grab an available pillow and a spare blanket, setting up your own little sleeping bag on the carpet right next to the bed. You lay down and stare at the ceiling. The ticking of your clock and the occasional sound of traffic outside of the building are the only loud sounds that distract your mind from any turbulent thoughts.

All you want is to sleep. What’ll happen tomorrow or the day after that is a problem for later. You’re safe for now. For today, you can relax. Your door is locked and the man you saved hadn’t left just yet. You feel a strange form of comfort having him with you. Even if he may be a bad person, his presence somehow soothes your tired body and mind. You feel like you’re safe with him. No harm shall come your way tonight.

And with that decisive thought, you close your eyes and give in to the slumber. You turn to lay on your side, facing the frame of your bed. Facing Toji.

You smile and utter your final words for the day, “good night, Toji. Sleep well.”

You drift into the land of dreams and discard your eventful reality. Little did you know that the man on your bed had been wide awake the entire time and is now left unable to sleep. . .

to be continued !

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk angst #toji angst #please give it lots of love :)

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theirnamesarekiklo · 2 years ago

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Cold

Tired and damp, the sweet sweet girl could only hold herself

pairing: !Twin Sister! Reader x Sully Family

a/n: this is kinda like at the end of the movies where the whole battle takes place also this was not corrected at all I literally js pulled this out of my ass 😭 (LITERALLY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LIKES I CANT BELIEVE THIS)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: a lil talk abt suicide, very faint injury desc

⋆★⋆★⋆

Deep pants all around, the only thing on their mind was that they were safe and together. But something deep and churning kept place in Lo’ak’s stomach.

The most common thing between twins in Na’vi culture was that they were more connected than most. They had this special bond that most siblings didn’t obtain. Ever since Lo’ak and his twin sister had been born under the same light, they could feel one-another. They felt each other’s losses, wins, and they especially felt eachother’s heart. So imagine how his heart dropped as soon as he felt alone.

So utterly alone and cold, he felt.

“Dad, where’s y/n?” and everyone’s breath hitched.

— ⋆⋆ —

Gasping for air, she had managed to drag herself on the rough rock, but she couldn’t care less now that she had bigger wounds to tend to. Wheezing out raspy breaths, her shaking hand rested softly on the edge of the blade, the same blade that had pierced her heart. The wound was the biggest one there, despite the bullet hole lodged into her skin.

She wasn’t sure how she felt exactly. Her legs were numb, one of them clearly in no condition to walk with, her face had been covered in dried gore that not even the water could wash off, and her arms were covered in several deep gashes, bruises, and burns. Swallowing the rising blood, she took one more deep breath before her hand gripped the knife, obviously not being enough as the removal was simply worse than the actual wound.

The gruesome scene was surely something, and she was sure that the other guy (who she hadn’t bothered to even learn the name of) had looked worse when she was done with him, but that didn’t stop her from meeting the same fate as he did.

Letting out a scream that truly screamed bloody murder, the girl could only sob and heave and clutch her torn skin that she was sure would get infected if she had even managed to get out of here. What would take her first? Dying of blood loss or dying of infection? Taking a peek at the sky, Her vision was already clouding over. Wincing as she tried getting just a tad bit comfortable on the rock, blood started pooling at the edges of her lips.

Was her older brother okay? She was sure the bullet only grazed him, she took the bullet for him before getting dragged back by the same guy she killed. Most importantly, was her twin brother okay? Was he breathing better than her? Did he carry the same feeling she did at this moment? At this moment, she could recall all the sweet memories she and him shared. They were born together, and she sure was hell glad they didn’t leave the same way, although she wished more than anything that they were right there with her.

Choking out a sob, the girl felt a chill of acceptance run through her. She wouldn’t make it out of this. Even though she was still young and hadn’t completed her Rite of Passage, she knew she was going to die. Curling up into a ball, she felt cold and as if all the thoughts in her head were simply vanishing, the only thing repeating itself were comforting nothings. Clutching at her chest, her slightly parted lips were releasing slow, tiny gasps. Taking one more look at the looming eclipse, she choked back a cry and whispered one last promise to ewya, leaving the world the same way she came into it.

— ⋆⋆ —

“No No No Y/N!”

As the wailing begun, Jake couldn’t help but want to simply shoot himself in the head right now.

Taking one look at her daughter once more, he turned around and crouched down. Taking some shaky gulps of air, he felt as if his world was suddenly closing in on himself. He’s been through this before, only he wasn’t experiencing it directly. Turning his head to take a look at Lo’ak, his heart broke into a million pieces right then and there.

Bringing her hand to his heart, his hands were already covered in her drying blood, trying to gain that silly warmth that everyone felt cover them if they had ever been around her. Whimpering tiny delusions to himself, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sick joke or some type of revenge for all the wrong doings he’s caused in his life. Meeting the eyes of his father, he could tell this was taking somewhat of the same toll on him too.

Trying to let out a few words, only a squeak could be heard before he ran his hand over his face and his his face away from the rest of the grieving children. He had let her die cold and alone.

He had let the sweetest person he had possibly ever met, the one who could do no bad, die stuck in her head and fighting. He wasn’t there to comfort her, caress her face as a distraction from the pain, nothing. If only he had been there sooner, if only he hadn’t betrayed Miles, if only he decided to follow the rules. His babygirl was gone, and the only thing he could do was cower and cry into his hand.

Kiri, who was simply sobbing to herself, truly not even there at the moment, held spider’s hand so tight that he was sure she would break it, but he wasn’t paying attention to that as he shed a wave of tears himself. She was one of the first people to truly accept him into their family and made him feel as if he belonged. Tuk, that poor child, tried laying her head on her older sister’s chest, trying to find a heartbeat, something, to prove that she wasnt really gone forever.

Neytiri, at this point blubbering thing to herself, only calmed down as she took in the peaceful expression on her daughter’s features. She had always been calm, but sometimes the way shadows hit her face showed nothing but a mask. Her eyebrows were always a little tense, but now they rested easily. Her baby, My baby, she thought, was gone. Bringing her face closer to hers, she laid her other hand right onto her cheek. They’ve held each-other like this many times, and to believe that this would be the last was a punch to the gut.

Tsireya, who was weeping right next to Lo’ak, couldn’t help but remember how sweet she was. She had a heart for many, even her brother, who had gone to extreme measures to simply make sure that they hadn’t felt welcome. She recalled the funny and heartwarming, sometimes sad memories that her twin had shared with her, and that only brought more tears to her eyes.

— ⋆⋆ —

The clan was silent.

Both y/n’s ilu and ikran had gone wild, suddenly scurrying off but not without a tiny fight with a few of the men, trying to keep them stable.

Ao’nung, who had seen the whole thing go down, was sure of his reason as to why these things were happening, but he didn’t want to believe himself. He was cruel, desperate to relive himself of these feelings he felt around the doe-eyed girl. Now, as he stood there, rigid and hardly breathing, let out a gasp as he could see a group in the distance.

As people started whispering, they were cut short as his mother let out a tiny noise at the sight of them. Peeking around a shoulder, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach. She was there, only not in the condition he hoped and prayed for. She was limp, pale, and completely rid of life as her father carried her in his arms, obviously not ready to accept the fact that she was dead.

Huffing out a “no”, he ran off, shoving people out of his way as his parents focused more on the sobbing daughter that was shown possibly the first heartbreak she had ever experienced. Her oldest brother didn’t know. How would he possibly react to the news that the girl he promised to protect since the moment she was born, was gone?

—…

#jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #loak x sister!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #Kiri x sister!reader #avatar #avatar twow #sully family x reader

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 months ago

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Hiya! Do you know any Sterek fics where Derek rejects the mate bond with Stiles and just ignores it all, leading to Stiles feeling the strain or pain of an ignored/incomplete bond? I've read one before where Derek just moved away cuz he didn't think it was a big deal and Stiles really took the brunt of it. But any fics that are similar would be perfect. P.S. Thank you for everything that you do and I hope that you're having a great day!

Oh yes. I love this kind of angst.

soulmates tbh by bleep0bleep

(1/1 I 1,423 I Teen)

"It’s been five months," Derek says darkly. "Why am I still getting these proposals? You know these are probably all fake marks."

Five months since the paparazzi had snapped that photo of him with the overzealous fan tugging at his shirt, five months since millions of people on the Internet realized that the birthmark revealed was in fact, the mark, five months Derek was inundated by claims from people who desperately wanted him to believe that they were his soul-mate.

Second Chances by rootbeer

(1/1 I 2,624 I General)

"A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. 'Excuse me'; 'thank you'; 'hello'. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you' or 'Wow you’re really pretty'. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world' tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret."

Three Marks by sanam

(8/8 I 113,736 I Mature)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

I Hunt For You With Bloody Feet by CharWright5

(26/26 I 200,462 I Explicit)

“Mates don't always mean happy ever after.”

When twenty-year-old born omega werewolf Stiles Stilinski received that cryptic email from his twin brother—who'd been missing for two years exactly—in a language the two of them had made up, his drive to find Stuart is doubled. The search leads him to Oak Creek, the most secured and heavily fortified city in all of California, where he finds that not only is his brother dead, but also the literal alpha of his Dreams in Derek Hale—who just happens to be his twin's Mate and the main suspect in Stiles' eyes. Despite an agreement to fight mutual feelings, the two are still drawn to each other as they try to solve the case themselves, uncovering a plot that goes deeper than the murder of just one wolf.

Blue Monday by ExpectNothingGainEverything

(19/? I 535,709 I Explicit)

Stiles would have never guessed that the star player of the lacrosse team and presumably the hottest guy in school who everyone wanted a piece of and one of his most hated bullies would turn out to be his soulmate.

Derek would never have dreamed that fate would be so cruel to pair him up with a freak like Stilinski.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #mates #angst

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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 month ago

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All the Time in the World-Sub!Aemond x Vampire

Warning:Vampires in this story-which means a heavy description of blood and death before turning into one. If you are uncomfortable with depictions of a bloody murder scene or someone choking on blood this story is not for you. This is also a Sub!Aemond in case that wasn’t clear, how could he have grown up with such a strong, sweet vampire women and not fallen in love with her?

There will also be mentions of SA and Aemond’s first experience in the brothel and how his mate deals with that once she finds out.

DD:DNE

Fic Moodboard

Y/n had been protecting the Red Keep and the Royal Family inside of it since Viserys was a baby and before Daemon was even born. Both boys were very close to the vampire since their own mother died when they were 3 and 7, Daemon clinging to her skirts until his father deemed it “inappropriate” which she found funny. To this day the man still had a sad little crush on her despite his 2 past wives and obvious lust for his niece.

Viserys kept her around when he became King, being fond of the women and knowing that she would never do anything but protect his family. She never could have foreseen one of the Kings children being her mate, though she hid it very well knowing that she could never leave now even if she actually wanted to. No need to let them know that, can’t let humans have the upper hand. Historically that hasn’t gone well for supernatural species.

Aemond, as a human, couldn’t feel the bond (though he would-should he become a vampire) but he was desperately in love with her anyway. Y/n suspected it had something to do with Alicent being a terrible mother to her children and Aemond’s “Mommy Issues” but also the fact that she was the one who comforted him every time his elder brother and nephews ridiculed him once again for his lack of dragon. Y/n didn’t want to make the young boy attached to her but she hated seeing her small mate in pain and every time she was forced to hear his cries her undead heart cracked once again.

The older he got the more distance she attempted to maintain, especially after the Queen made it clear that she did not appreciate her son growing attached to a “monster”. However the night that Aemond lost his eye, she may as well have broadcast how protective of the Targaryen Prince she really was…she practically did.

Y/n was awoken in her bed to the sound of knights running up the corridor and even worse than that, the heavy, delicious scent of her mates blood, quite a lot of it. When she sped down the halls and into the room she was stunned to find a Maester stitching up Aemond’s face. Luke had what appeared to be a broken nose and all of the children besides Aegon and Helaena were disheveled, though the only one bleeding copious amounts of blood was for some reason her mate.

“What happened?!” She demanded, storming in towards the scene, noting that the Maester was stitching up a missing eye (while said eye sat in a bloody dish).

“Y/n!” Aemond exclaimed, reaching his hand out for her comfort, comfort that he had not received in months since his mother insisted she avoid her son at all costs several months before. This time however, Y/n couldn’t have done it if she had wanted to and Aemond felt at least some form of relief from his favorite persons touch again.

“Oh sweet boy! What’s happened to you?!” She cooed, knowing the needy boy just craved affection and that now more than any other day, he needed it. His mother was in no place to comfort her son as she was snapping at anyone in the vicinity, angry at everyone it seemed.

“I claimed a dragon…” he mumbled into her ear as she hugged him, careful not to touch the injured side of his face. “I rode Vhagar…they said I stole her and attacked me. I admit I didn’t say the nicest things but they all attacked me and Luke…there was sand in my eyes and then he…” He was trying not to cry desperately, not wanting to seem weak in front of this women that was the epitome of strength, and that he was desperately in love with but she held him tighter and he allowed himself to cry for several moments until the doors opened and everyone else began arriving-Corlys and Rhaenys, the King himself who was looking rougher and smelling more and more of death every day in Y/n’s eyes (the scent of his blood was completely revolting), and finally Rhaenyra and…Daemon? Together? Y/n found that interesting…but not shocking.

“It’s alright sweet boy, breathe. It is alright to cry if that is what you need, if our bodies weren’t meant to cry then they wouldn’t be able to, now would they?” This made the boy smile slightly, though he winced in pain as soon as he did as his face moved.

Aemond held tightly to her hand as Alicent shouted at everyone and Rhaenyra tried to justify her sons actions. The King demanded Aemond tell him where he had heard Jace and Luke being called ‘bastards’ and he quickly blamed Aegon who made it clear that everyone in the room knew. “Could any word, any insult of any kind justify having your eye carved from your head? He was called a foul word and so he sliced his Uncles face with a blade he brought to an ambush, 4 on 1 which was clearly the intention. How is being called a bastard-which shouldn’t matter if it is not true- worth this?” Y/n questioned, everyone instantly shocked as most had never heard her say more than 5 words at once.

“It is treason!” Rhaenyra snapped.

“Oh, come off it! A word is not fucking treason, trying to murder a Prince however, now that is treason, a crime which Lucerys has clearly committed. If anyone should be sharply questioned it should be him.” Once again, everyone was stunned including Aemond who was looking up at Y/n as if she hung the stars in the sky herself just for him.

“Enough! The matter is finished! I will have No More of this infighting!” The King snapped, Aemond once again holding tight to Y/n who stroked his hair softly, everyone shuffling off to bed once Alicent had ‘calmed down’.

“Can you heal him?” The mother asked Y/n as they stood at Aemond’s bedside, the boy looking up at her hopefully.

“I can heal the injury, yes but I cannot grow body parts back, the scar will remain no matter what I do…I’m sorry sweet boy.” Aemond held her hand firmly as his mother huffed angrily, storming off to find the Maester once her son had gulped down the milk of the poppy.

“It is not your fault…it is Luke’s. And he will pay for making me a monster, I swear to the Gods he will!” Y/n’s eyes widened and she forced Aemond to look at her.

“You are not a monster! You are scarred, that is all. Plenty of men have scars and many women find them attractive. One day you will meet a wonderful noble lady and she will love you for everything that you are, sweet boy.”

“Do you?” Aemond asked and she looked at him curiously. “Do you like men with scars?”

“Oh…yes. It shows women how strong he is, that he will be good at protecting them and their family…sadly I will never have that. However, just like you will meet a wonderful lady, I will find myself a vampire to be with one day…I’m sure...” She said it even though she didn’t believe a word she was saying.

“I want to be a vampire some day. You could turn me and I could stay with you forever!” He smiled, pulling her to lay down beside him in the large bed, his mind clearly becoming foggy thanks to the milk of the poppy. She hesitated but it felt nice to be close to her mate, to know after he had been injured so grievously that he was completely safe in her arms as he rested his head on her shoulder. “We can go anywhere we want now that I have Vhagar, nothing would be able to stop us.”

“Never sweet boy…you sleep now. Have sweet dreams.” She encouraged but he was already asleep, his face nestled into her neck in a vulnerable position she would only ever trust her mate to be in.

About a year after that Y/n was sent to Dragonstone by the King. There had been an attempt on Rhaenyra’s life and he wanted the Vampire to protect his daughter and her family.

Aemond protested loudly but it did nothing and she was still “made” to go. Y/n didn’t do anything she didn’t want to but she wanted to make sure that Aemond had time and space to grow into the perfect man she knew he would, one who was attracted to more women than just her and would be happy in his marriage. She couldn’t force him into this mating bond-she wouldn’t! Y/n also did not appreciate the idea of a man telling her what to do, male vampire mates are dominant and aggressive in a way humans cannot even fathom, which is why she avoids males and mated pairs like the plague.

They had fallen out of contact after Aemond had turned 13 and she knew he had found…other interests. A 13 year old boy does not want to write letters to a grown women while he can be pursuing girls his own age. It still hurt however and she knew, as they traveled back to Kings Landing because Corlys could not keep himself from nearly getting killed, that she needed to stay away from Aemond.

It was much easier said than done.

Jace and Luke had dragged Y/n with them to the training yard, a place they never spent much time at on Dragonstone as they believed they had not only their dragons but a vampire to protect them.

She stood back as they reminisced over their good times in the yard, though she would not call being really bad at everything “good times”. Her attention was only drawn when she smelled him, his scent having evolved over the years. It was stronger now, more manly and…heavy. Y/n was instantly obsessed with it and quickly needed to control herself, clamping down on her instincts as strongly as she could-her instinct right now being to shove a bloody wrist into his mouth and change him, leaving him with no choice but her-she refused to do that no matter how tempting it was. She had always felt drawn to Aemond as her mate, however she severely underestimated how intense being physically attracted to him would be for the first time now that he was grown.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ He asked the boys who stiffened, moving back towards her to ensure their safety. ‘Hello darling…you haven’t changed a bit!’ He grinned, stepping closer before she stepped back.

‘You have my Prince…you are grown. You should get back to your training session, I would not want to cause a distraction.’

Okay, so maybe she was a bit upset that he stopped writing her, but honestly it had hurt her feelings. Just because she’s a vampire does not mean that she has no feelings, she had feelings and they’re so much stronger than any normal human could possibly imagine. She walked back into the castle being followed by Rhaenyra’s idiot sons that she dubbed such as they did not like to work for things that they knew would be theirs. Does anyone think that Luke will be fighting for his own inheritance? Of course not, his mother will do it for him like every other day.

Y/n was given her own room and she quickly found it, grabbing herself some peasant clothes and making her way back out of the Keep and into the streets.

She found herself a meal in the form of 2 would be rapists and sent the woman (unharmed but for some torn clothes) on her way while she ate her meal. Their blood was laced with horrible ale, making Y/n resent getting accustomed to fine wine and delicious human food.

‘Are you enjoying yourself, my love?’ She spun around to see her mate under a cloak, hiding his hair and eye patch.

‘Have you lost your mind?!’ She snapped. ‘What are you doing here?!’

‘I wanted to see you. You would not speak to me and I-‘

‘If you remember correctly my Prince, you would not speak to me! You stopped writing, I have just continued the level of communication that you wanted and now it is time to get the Prince of the Realm back home! Start walking!’ She growled, pushing him forward before storming back towards the Red Keep, having her elbow grabbed and being shoved against a wall while thinking about how lucky he should consider himself, he would be the only person she ever allowed to do such a thing.

‘Please stop this, I am sorry Y/n! Truly sorry, you cannot possibly-‘

‘Understand?’ She cut him off. ‘I have been alive for a very long time Aemond-longer than you ever will-do-‘

‘I Was Ashamed!’ He raged, eyes hard as he looked down at her from where he stood, nearly a foot taller than her now. ‘My brother took me to a brothel and I…I was ashamed of what happened to me!’

In that moment Y/n felt her heart crack in 2, her mate had been hurt, had been assaulted and it had been his own brothers fault. ‘Aemond…why would you not just tell me? I would never judge you for that sweet boy, that is not your fault! Just because most men think with their cocks, it doesn’t mean you need to enjoy everything and someone forcing you is not okay!’ She pulled him down to her and hugged him firmly, allowing him to cling to her as she knew he had missed. ‘Take me to this brothel Aemond. Now.’ She demanded, taking his hand in hers and pulling him towards the silk street.

‘No! I don’t want you anywhere near there, those men-‘

‘Will have their heads popped like zits if they touch either one of us. Now point it out! Or do you want me to get upset with you-‘

‘No! No, no. It’s over there.’ He mumbled, pointing at a building that definitely looked like a brothel.

‘Now, you point these ladies out to me. How many of them touched you?’ His face turned a deep shade of red that disappeared under his cloak and she was curious to see how far it went.

‘Y/n, I don’t…2 of them.’ He realized that she was going to get her answers one way or another and it would just be easier to give them to her. ‘Her.’ He spoke silently as a women opened the door, her eyes lighting up as she saw him.

‘It’s been a long time…my my, how you’ve grown.’ She flirted and Y/n felt her fangs growing from her gums.

‘Hello. This is a tad embarrassing to admit but my man and I are having some…troubles…in the bed chamber and I had hoped the women that were so good to him before would be willing to…teach me how to please him? I can pay you both handsomely.’ She promised and the woman’s eyes lit up, taking her hand and pulling her inside.

‘What are you doing?’ Aemond whispered, leaning down to her and keeping his hands on her waist protectively which the beastial part of her vampire brain loved.

‘No one hurts my sweet boy and lives. I would have killed them a long time ago if you had just told me the truth, no more secrets.’ They were escorted into a separate area with a large bed in the middle, curtains being drawn shut behind and Aemond’s hands clamped down on Y/n’s waist tighter than she believes he meant to. ‘You’re safe with me Aemond, I will never let anyone hurt you again.’ She promised, taking his face into her hands and making sure he saw how serious she was before he suddenly connected their lips together roughly.

He was awkward and didn’t quite know what he was doing so instead of pushing him away and make him feel rejected, she grabbed the back of his neck and took control of the kiss which had him whimpering, clinging to her waist before a throat cleared. ‘Oh wow, you were right Sylvie…not such a little thing anymore, are you?’ The new women in the room giggled and it took everything to keep her vampire visage from showing.

‘Why don’t you go ahead and get undressed and we’ll get started.’ Sylvie told the vampire and she nodded, pushing Aemond to sit.

‘You just relax sweet boy, I’m going to take care of the ones that hurt you. I promise.’ She ignored the clear tent in his pants before unlacing her dress, pulling it down her body and dropping her small clothes as well to leave her completely bare. There is something to be said about the feeling of feeding (especially messily) when you can get it all over your skin. It makes a vampire feel…free.

‘Leona can get him ready for you, you come here for me.’ Sylvie instructed but Y/n grabbed Leona’s hand tightly before she touched Aemond.

‘No. This is about teaching me, only I touch him, he is mine.’ She tried to keep the growl from her voice but she knew that she had failed as they looked quite startled.

‘Of course! It is your coin, whatever you desire.’ With that Sylvie turned to undress and Y/n grabbed Leona by the throat.

The ship ride had been long and annoying, full of nothing to eat considering the royal family would never offer up their own blood for their protector-why would they?

‘You will not scream, not make a sound. You will not flee…I’m going to save you for last. You seem like you’ll taste better…cleaner.’ She compelled and Leona looked terrified but had no choice but to stay in the bed as Y/n turned back to Sylvie. When she looked back the vampire grabbed ahold of her throat and cut off her scream at seeing her true face. ‘It’s terrifying to look at, isn’t it? Even the whole of the royal family hasn’t seen what I truly look like. It’s meant to make preys final moments terrifying you see…fear makes the blood…exquisite.’ She laughed, watching the women gasp for air as she tried to claw at her face resulting in fangs sinking into her hand and taking off 2 fingers which dropped onto the bed, her screams unable to come out as she held Sylvie’s airway so firmly. ‘You hurt my boy.’ Y/n growled, pinning her down to the bed, blood now covering her bare torso as she continued trying to push her away with her 3 fingered hand. ‘His elder brother told you to and so you didn’t care how he felt…did you ask if he wanted you to fuck him?’ She was gapping like a fish out of water, clawing at porcelain skin. ‘Answer Me!’ She roared and Sylvie flinched, shaking her head as best she could. ‘No, of course not. Why would you? You had gotten your money and every boy wants to fuck any women any time, don’t they? Yeah? Horseshit! Men can be assaulted just like girls and you assaulted him…admittedly no one would have cared if it wasn’t for me. But I do, I care very much. And I’m going to kill you both for it.’

Tears leaked from her eyes as claws dug into her shoulder, ripping down her chest and gashing her open, more dark blood spraying all over the bed. ‘Y/n? You don’t have to-‘

‘Maybe you should wait outside sweet boy, this could be too much for you.’ She told him before releasing the woman’s throat and burying sharp fangs into her neck, downing the rest of her blood-though she was much too weak to make a sound now.

As Y/n was distracted she did not notice the other girl having pulled a dagger from behind the pillows, but Aemond did. He grabbed her before she could touch the vampire woman and fought with her for a second before the blade was thrust up and buried into his throat. It was only when she smelled his distinct scent that she turned to find him bleeding from a gaping hole in his neck prompting her to punch the girl in the side of the head, her collapsing unconscious instantly before she caught Aemond who tried to stumble back, holding his throat tightly.

He opened his mouth, blood spewing from his neck as he tried to make a sound. ‘Scared…’ he choked, coughing blood all over his mouth and chin.

‘Shh, don’t talk sweet boy, it’s okay. Just drink, I need you to swallow for me quickly before you die! Just drink, it’s alright, I’m right here’’ She insisted, ripping open the veins in her wrist roughly and shoving it into his mouth. He painfully swallowed as she instructed, his bloody hand reaching up to touch her face as he was seeing her vampire visage for the first time. He didn’t look afraid as he touched her, fingers trailing the dark veins under her eyes before his hand fell and she realized his eyes had gone glassy and his heart had stopped.

Fuck!

She removed his cloak and weapons from him but left his clothes on, mate or not she did not want to make him uncomfortable in anyway, before settling him on the clean pillows off to the side of the large bed. The younger girl woke up before Aemond and Y/n compelled her quickly, wiping off the bits of blood that had landed on her before having her leave the bed and fetch them the things they would need.

It was about an hour before he opened his eyes, just as she started getting worried that he hadn’t actually injested any of her blood. He groaned as he sat up, stretching before his body froze, nostrils flaring and eyes shooting open to lock onto her with a truly wild look in them. ‘Calm down Aemond, you’re going to behave! You need to feed before anything else or you will die again and this one will be permanent.’ He gave no indication that he understood her as he watched her take hold of the girl and drag her over to him, slicing into her neck with a claw. ‘Drink sweet boy, now!’ His eyes widened a bit, stunned by her demands and she could understand why as he did what she said, draining the whore quickly.

Male vampires are dominant creatures-Aemond is not. Not really anyway. Now his natural instincts and feelings are battling with his new ones, though Y/n knew that she could fix that just fine. ‘Y/n, you-‘

‘I know. I tried to keep you from this, I shouldn’t have brought you here and I’m sorry-‘ he lunged forward, shoving her back onto the bed and growling, nuzzling his face into her throat.

‘I was meant to be with you, I always knew it…but you tried to keep me away? You didn’t want me to-‘

‘I wanted you to live a normal life, Aemond! A happy life where you could have a wife and children of your own, I can never give that to you!’ She snarled, flipping them both over and pinning him this time. ‘I didn’t get to choose this life! This was done to me, no one gets a choice! I just…I didn’t want to force this Hell on you just because I was greedy. I love you sweet boy, I always have. Admittedly you made it a bit more challenging to stay away from you by growing up.’ She teased making him smile. ‘I can still teach you how to act, you can be a Prince as you’re supposed to be. Children won’t be possible any longer but a marriage-‘

‘A marriage to anyone but you is out of the question and I would be happy to be the one to tell my Grandsire…mine!’ He snarled, pressing his lips to hers again much harder this time.

‘Stop! Stop-Not here! Not in this place so full of horrid memories for you sweet boy-‘ he snarled instantly making her growl and cut him off. ‘You are and always will be my sweet boy, being a vampire does not change that. It’s what you want and it’s what I want. Might as well just get used to it now…then again, you don’t have much time. We need to get back to the Keep.’ She knew that they needed to hurry to make the succession hearing on time, she’ll just have to keep Aemond extra close to ensure he doesn’t get too…excited.

Though training a baby vampire hadn’t been on her to do list anytime soon…historically, they’re not very well behaved children.

Y/n stood beside Aemond in the hall to ensure he did not lose himself if someone started bleeding. Rhaenyra and Daemon gave her odd looks but she tried to ignore it, instead listening to Vaemond argue for why he should take over Driftmark instead of Luke.

Rhaenyra had only just started arguing for her son when the doors opened and a guard introduced the King prompting her to pull Aemond behind her now, nearly shoving Aegon off his feet in her rush. ‘Hold your breath!’ She demanded and he looked at her confused. ‘You will not handle the smell of your father well at all, hold your-‘ at that moment Y/n was overwhelmed with the stench of foul death and Aemond gagged.

‘What is that?!’ He whisper shouted down at her, Aegon now locked onto their conversation and trying to catch up through his near constant drunken haze.

‘That is the scent of death, his blood is practically toxic and it is so much worse than last time, he’s literally decaying-oh God!’ She shoved down the bile that rose in her throat and held her breath as Aemond did.

‘Wait-are you…?’ Aegon questioned prompting Aemond to glare and pull her closer possessively. ‘Holy Shit! I knew it would happen, I knew it! Hey, I want to be a vampire as well-‘

‘You by my side for eternity? I can think of nothing worse.’ Aemond responded before they all quieted down, the King panting heavily as he questioned why people were discussing a settled succession. ‘Oh dear, he’s going to get himself killed.’ Her mate chuckled while Vaemond was calling Rhaenyra’s boys bastards.

‘Yes, maybe we should-Dammit Daemon!’ Y/n hissed, the top half of a Vaemond’s head splattering against the floor in a bloody mess, his tongue hanging out of what used to be his face, blood spraying out of the now flat surface that was previously his skull. She grabbed ahold of Aemond before he lunged and Aegon moved to grab his other arm as well (which while it was appreciated and a nice sentiment of wanting to protect his little brother, would only end up with his bones being snapped if Aemond grabbed or pulled him too hard).

‘Y/n…my old friend…what…is the problem?’ Viserys questioned, his voice laced with pain.

‘No problem at all my King, the Prince is just feeling a bit under the weather. I shall escort him back to his chambers-‘

‘It seems to be a tad more than that.’ Daemon teased though his tone held anger as well prompting Aemond to growl, not liking any man anywhere to speak to his mate like that.

‘You seem to know the answer already Daemon, yet you tease like an idiot. Maybe you could handle him yourself, yes?’ She wondered, releasing her iron grip and watching her mate rocket into the warrior Prince who instantly fought as hard as he could but could not even move a muscle as his nephew pinned him to the floor.

Just as he was about to dig his fangs in she grabbed ahold of the back of his neck and pulled him back. ‘Mate! You heard him, he-‘

‘I know, and yet you’re going to release him anyway…Now!’ She demanded and he detached himself from his Uncle.

‘You’ve turned my son into a-‘ as if Aemond was prepared for exactly what his mother was going to say he cut her off quickly.

‘She saved me mother! I had a dagger shoved into my throat and my mate saved my life! You will not speak to her like that, no one will, or I will ensure you never speak again!’ He threatened.

‘Apologies my Queen, he is as of yet unable to control his rage, controlling any emotion takes time. We will work on it.’ She swore, pulling him back to the other side of the room. ‘Though I do recommend controlling your sons, Princess. If they antagonize him like they normally do I cannot ensure their safety, therefore you must ensure that they behave themselves.’ Rhaenyra looked at Y/n completely stunned before she turned back to the King, Aemond now turning his attention to the blood pooling all over the floor. ‘I will take him to the Black Cells and allow him to gorge himself before dinner tonight, he will be in complete control by then…probably…’

The King looked curious but clearly unable to do much anymore, the pain being too much. ‘Go.’ He waved them off and Y/n grabbed ahold of her mate and pulled him from the hall.

‘I do not like the way he looks at you.’ Aemond speaks as they descend into the dungeons.

‘Your father? He is nothing more than a dear friend, though watching his life has been a disappointment, I had always expected him to be a much better father-‘

‘No! Daemon! He leers at you and I do not appreciate-‘

‘Enough Aemond. You need to take control of your emotions instead of letting them control you! You will not make it as a vampire if you cannot control your anger. I will help you, and I do not expect you to thrive the first night, but you need to try. Now, 3 should be plenty. Eat.’

Aemond paused a moment, looking over the now confused men in the cell, only moving to grab one of them when he lunged for Y/n. He was determined to be strong enough to protect her, no matter how hard he had to work. Hard work had never been a problem for Aemond, he was no stranger to it.

‘Slow down.’ Y/n instructed and he fought hard with himself to unlock his jaw and pull away from his meal, eyes looking back up at her and seeing perfectly in the dark Black Cells for the first time in his life. He can also see why you would want it so dark, it is absolutely disgusting down here, and the rats are huge. ‘Take a breath and savor it, notice how it makes your body feel. When you get used to how it makes you feel you’ll know when you’re full, there will always be a part of you that is thirsty for more so you need to know when enough is enough.’ She ran her fingers through his hair as she spoke and he began drinking slower, noticing how he could feel the strength returning to his body as if turning had physically drained all muscle from his body. As he continued swallowing the burning in his throat lessened more and more until it was just an ache.

Aemond drained all 3 men slowly, adoring the affection that his mate was bestowing upon him.

‘You did so good baby, listening so well…I think you deserve a treat, don’t you?’ The one eyed Prince nodded immediately, not willing to turn down a reward from his mate. ‘Good Boy…’ she coo’ed, kneeling beside him and pulling him to lay back against her body. He watched as she buried her teeth into her wrist before bringing it to his mouth. ‘Drink sweet boy, let your mate make you feel so good…’

He paused for a second, confused about what the difference could possibly be between the blood he’d had and his mates blood but he trusted her none the less and bit down into her wrist. The rush of pleasure up his spine was unlike anything Aemond had ever felt in his life. She tasted like bliss and his head filled with a pleasurable buzzing that had him moaning into her flesh.

‘That’s it baby. It’s all yours.’

‘Mmnngh!’ His…she was his…finally after all this time, Y/n belonged to Aemond and no one would ever steal her away. He pulled back, turning around to see her kneeling behind him with a smile on her face.

‘I didn’t expect you to finish that quickly, was-Oh!’ She grunted as he jumped onto her, laying her back over the dead bodies before burying his face into her neck and biting into her again. ‘Such a needy little thing!’ She growled, biting into his neck next, tearing off his shirt as she did. Aemond wasted no time in returning the favor, ripping at her dress and tearing it from her body, finally feeling her skin against his which was warmer than he ever dreamed now that he is just as cold as she is. ‘Are you sure you want to do this now? I want you to be ready, you never have to-‘ he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers hard and tearing his pants open to press himself against her warmth. He could not suppress the moan that built in his throat and while any other time he would feel embarrassed about how needy it sounded, he could not find it in himself to give a fuck at that moment.

‘I’ve always felt safe with you. You could never hurt me.’ He said it with such surety that Y/n didn’t question him anymore, just wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed his way inside of her, growling into her neck at the warm, tight feeling around his cock. ‘So fucking perfect…fuck!’ Aemond cursed, moving quickly, his hips thrusting up into her at a speed that no normal human could even hope to achieve.

‘Fuck! That’s it sweet boy, take what you need.’ Her soft moans encouraged him to keep going and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her to his chest and holding her against him as he thrust up into her body. He couldn’t hide the purr that came from his chest as he felt her clinging to him tightly, her claws digging into his back deliciously.

‘Feel so good…so tight! Oh fuck!’ He grunted, knowing he was going to cum way too quickly but unable to stop himself.

‘It’s okay sweet boy, cum for me, fill me up.’ As if her permission was everything he needed he felt as if his body exploded in euphoria as he came. He dug his fangs into her neck and her sweet blood made his head fuzzy as he filled his mate as much as he was able.

When he was finally able to think clearly again he could feel her brushing her fingers through his hair gently which produced a soft purr from his chest that he couldn’t decide if he liked or not. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘No baby, there’s no need to be sorry. You did everything just right, everyone finishes early their first time and you’re a new vampire, everything feels a million times better. That’s not your fault-‘

‘But you didn’t…I want to make you feel good too.’ He admitted and immediately loved the smile it produced on her face.

‘There’s plenty of time for that. You’re a vampire now sweet boy, your stamina is 10x stronger. I will show you what to do, no man just knows how to make a girl cum without being taught, don’t ever think you’ve done something wrong. Okay? You and I have eternity now…though I would appreciate a bed before we do anything else? I can get behind fucking on top of a fresh kill but this dungeon is gross.’ Aemond couldn’t help his chuckle at that, lifting his mate back up and using his torn shirt to cover her nudity before moving to take her to his bed chamber. The rush he got through his body as he ran there felt like he had left his internal organs behind as he caught himself on the door making Y/n giggle. ‘You’ll get used to that, I promise.’

‘I don’t believe you on that one.’ He teased, shutting his door and locking it to ensure no one could get in. ‘I really hope you weren’t looking forward to that dinner tonight, because I’m not letting you out of this bed before dawn.’

‘Is that so?’ She teased before he tossed her onto the soft mattress, pinning her back down playfully.

‘It is my love. You are all mine for the rest of the night.’

‘I’m all yours for the rest of forever sweet boy, we have all the time in the world.’

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

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scholomancefan · 3 months ago

Note

Horrifying prompt/idea:

Omegaverse where Shen Yuan is Shen Jiu and Qiu Jianluo’s son.

For Context: I’ve been reading Sha Po Lang, and Chang Geng’s relationship with his (supposed) mother in his memories had me thinking of Shen Jiu (after escaping the Qiu household) raising Shen Yuan similarly, with alternating murder attempts, machinations, and pity.

Fun fact, in the first draft of Marrying the Scum Villainess's Daughter, Shen Yuan was going to be Qiu Jianluo's and Shen Jiu's! But that was too dark for what I wanted to be a lighthearted comedy, so I cut it 😅 Anyway, here's my first try writing omegaverse! Please be gentle ❤️

“All this time this man has deceived you!” Qiu Haitang cried out. “He’s no beta. He’s an omega, the wife of my brother, and the bearer of my nephew Qiu Yuan!”

Everyone turned to stare aghast at Shen Qingqiu, including Shen Yuan himself.

It couldn’t be true. Shen Qingqiu was a beta just like Shen Yuan. He’d gotten Shen Yuan on some brothel worker somewhere, something Shen Yuan’s bullies on Qing Jing had rubbed in Shen Yuan’s face over and over.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were like black marbles, and there was no life in them. Only purest loathing for the alpha Qiu Haitang as she made her accusations.

The Huan Hua Palace Master stroked his beard. “These are serious accusations,” he murmured in a carrying voice.

Because omegas were little better than property to be bought or sold through dowries–treasured in families, to be sure, but one could never hold a position of power. Whether they were even allowed to cultivate was generally the decision of their alpha after they had been mated; how could omegas be expected to control their base lusts without a firm and guiding hand?

“He murdered my brother, Qiu Jianluo, and stole their child,” Qiu Haitang wept. “Qiu Yuan, a precious omega of our house!”

And now it felt like all the air around him had vanished. Shen Yuan couldn’t breathe.

“Baba…” Shen Yuan whispered.

The teas. The damn teas that Shen Qingqiu insisted they drink together every day. Shen Qingqiu had never liked Shen Yuan; had encouraged the other disciples to bully him, had turned away from Shen Yuan’s tears. But he insisted every day at the same time that they take tea together. It was a far cry from family bonding. It was as much warmth as Shen Yuan ever had from him.

“The omega Qiu Yuan of course cannot remain in omega Shen Jiu’s care,” the Huan Hua Palace Master insisted.

This!!! Fucking!!! Setup!!! Everyone was just taking Qiu Haitang’s word for everything, even though Shen Yuan was certain he and Shen Qingqiu were still to all appearances betas. This could only mean one thing… or rather, that one person was behind this.

“We will arrange a marriage for him straight away to a trustworthy cultivator of great promise,” the Huan Hua Palace Master continued.

There it was.

Shen Yuan peered through the crowd and sure enough there was Luo Binghe, watching the proceedings with the smug look of someone for whom everything was going according to plan. For the protagonist everything always went according to plan.

And in this case apparently the plan was to collect Shen Yuan into Luo Binghe’s harem like a special edition Pokemon card!

Gongyi Xiao stepped forward and reached out to Shen Yuan. “It’s going to be all right,” he said softly, the trappings of kindness trying to hide the poison of the lie.

The snap of a paper fan unfurling. Blood spattered the cobbles at their feet. Gongyi Xiao clutched his bleeding wrist and cried out in pain.

And then it was Shen Qingqiu standing there, shielding Shen Yuan from the view of the crowd.

“If you try to take Shen Yuan, I will slaughter you all and dance in your bloody remains,” Shen Qingqiu snarled, and raised his fan, stained crimson at its qi-honed edge.

#svsss #svsss fanfiction #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #danmei fanfic nightclub #omegaverse

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yanderes-galore · 9 months ago

Note

could I request platonic yandere stu macher headcanons with a younger sibling? -🎂

I can do some small HCs, sure!

Yandere! Platonic! Stu Macher with Little Sibling! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Sadism, Manipulation, Violence, Blood, Murder mentioned, Stalking, Jealousy, Forced companionship.

This is actually a scary idea.

Think about it, you always saw Stu as your playful and joking brother.

You never expected him or his friend, Billy, to be sadistic killers.

To think your brother committed such crimes behind your back is a disturbing thoughts...

Which is why Stu doesn't plan on letting you know the truth.

I imagine Stu would have some overly obsessive and protective qualities towards his sibling.

To the point he may even get overly jealous with you around other people besides him.

Maybe someone gets on your nerves at school or work?

Stu somehow manages to know about it, even if you didn't tell him.

Next thing you know, they're dead in quite the gruesome way.

That or maybe you have your first boyfriend/girlfriend?

Stu shows distaste towards them, soon even doing away with them when he's had enough.

He takes his time to taunt them about you, claiming how no one can take his sibling away from him.

It's nothing romantic, don't read it wrong, Stu just feels you two have an unbreakable bond together.

He's overly obsessive about you as your older brother.

He definitely comforts you when people close to you start dying.

You hug him, rambling about how you're afraid you'll lose him too.

Stu responds by hugging back... whispering that he won't let that happen...

All with a grin on his face that you can't see.

He's possessive of his little sibling.

A lot of the blood he spills is for you.

Stu never plans on telling you that he and Billy are the Ghostface killers.

He does it in secret, all as a way to keep you to himself.

The only way you'd know is if you caught him.

Perhaps you walk in on something you aren't supposed to... Stu hunched over someone who "wronged" you in some way with a bloody knife in their gut.

He's covered in blood... crazed eyes flicking to you and your horrified expression from behind his mask.

He grins under the mask as you run off and he gives chase.

He won't hurt you... he's your beloved brother, isn't he?

So when he corners you, his touch is gentle.

Blood smears on your skin and fear eats at you as you stare at the killer in front of you.

Your heart nearly stops when he removed the mask... revealing your brother.

His smile never leaves his face as he pulls you in for a hug.

He claims he's been doing this all for you.

He also warns that good siblings will stay quiet about what they saw.

As blood seeps into your clothes... you nod aggressively.

You'll stay quiet about this... all for your brother...

This makes Stu smile softly.

Everything he does is to keep you safe and happy beside him, after all.

#yandere slasher #yandere slashers #yandere scream #yandere ghostface #yandere stu macher #platonic yandere

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selfloverrrrrr · 2 months ago

Text

Bloody Bond

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, vampire Gojo, prince Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Halloween Masterlist

Y/n's POV

I was a girl from a farmer's family. I was their only girl. I had many friends in the village. I love to read books. Our family was poor. My father was working so hard for money. We needed it after all. One thing I always hated about my family.

And The thing I never liked about my family is they always try to convince me to marry. But I don't want to! I'm just 20 years old. I don't need to marry someone right now! I ignored them whenever they tried to talk about convincing me for marriage.

Me and my friends were in a field. Talking with each other. Suddenly Shoko my friend pulled the rubber band from my hair and untied my hair then started running. "Hey Shoko... stop!!" I screamed with a laugh. "Catch me!" She said. We both started running.

Shoko didn't notice that Mei Mei was in front of her. "Nevermind I got her" Mei Mei said grabbing the rubber band from Shoko's hand. "You always help her" Shoko sighed. We both laughed. I was tying my hair back when we heard a loud noise from beside us.

We looked in the direction. There was a bush. "What was that sound?" Mei Mei asked. "I don't know either" Shoko replied. "Let's see what it was" I said. We all went towards there. Then we slowly went behind the bush. Nothing was there.

"what was it?" I said. "We're thinking the same thing!" Shoko said. "Wait...is that blood?" I asked. I saw red liquid on the ground. "Shit...it is blood!" Mei Mei said. Suddenly we felt as if something ran at an inhuman speed behind us.

We all gasped and turned around. Nothing was there. It was almost 5pm. "What is this happening?" Shoko said. "I don't know either" I replied. "Y/n?... where's your rubber band?" Mei Mei asked. I realised my hair wasn't tied. "Shoko did you do that?" I asked.

"no... I promise...I didn't do that" Shoko replied. "Hey ... let's go home before it gets dark.... something creepy is happening" I said. "Yes I know... it's getting dark too!"Shoko replied. We all were scared. So we all went to our home.

We all went back to our home. At night me and my mother were having dinner. My father came in and said that a farmer of our village is dead. "What! How?" I asked. "Nobody knows...we just know that he was murdered" my father replied. "Oh and he's body was found behind some bushes of the field" he said.

My eyes widened. Didn't we see blood there today. I got scared. What was it? I didn't tell them anything... but I knew whatever it was...that ain't any human. But what is it? The question kept in my mind.

After the dinner I went to my room and locked the door. I was still thinking about those things. What the hell was that? People were saying that the farmer is killed by a monster. Was it really a monster? Cause I also felt something there. I sighed. 'let's forget about it for now and read the book I was reading ' I thought.

I went to my desk and sat there on the chair. There was a window in front of the desk. So the window was right in front of me. I kept it open for some wind. I opened the book and started reading from where I stopped last night. Time passed... I was still reading the book.

"y/n..." I heard as if someone whispered my name from in front of me. I immediately looked up. No one was there. But I heard that clearly! I started looking outside from the window. "I want you... don't say no" I heard a whisper in my ear. As if someone was standing just behind me and whispered in my ear.

I immediately looked back. No one was there. My heart beat started running fast. Now I am scared...who was it? I clearly heard someone's voice. I was almost crying. I quickly closed the window and went to bed. 'god please save me please!' I said.... then I fell asleep.

Next morning... everything was going normal... But we friends didn't go to the field today... cause who will go after hearing those things yesterday... Every day we friends went somewhere and talk with each other. We were at Shoko's house and when it was almost everything we came back to our home.

After reaching home I saw my parents talking. "Hey... I'm back" I said. "Come here I have a great news!" My mother said. "What I asked sitting next to her. "You know... someone send us a marriage proposal for you... and do you know who is it??? It's our king Gojo Satoru!" She said with a smile.

"what?" I asked with shock. "Yes it's true....he came here today...but you weren't at home" she replied. Our king Gojo Satoru Gave marriage proposal to me?! Why would he want to marry a normal girl especially he doesn't even know me... strange! But I brush off that thought.

"I don't care if it's the king or someone else... you know I don't wanna get married right now" I told them. They gave me a glare. "Look y/n... don't be like a fool...he said he'll help us with money and you'll leave a luxury life too...he said he wants the marriage next week... and you'll marry him, that's it!" She said.

"what do you mean next week?! I don't even know him!" I protested. "Y/n... I said you WILL marry him or else it's gonna be so bad!" She said and both my parents left the room. Why is this happening with me? Why don't they listen to me?! I know they're not gonna listen to me now....so,In one week I'm gonna be married with a complete stranger?!

A week later

The day came. I haven't talked with anyone for days because of the marriage. And the day finally came. I still wasn't happy about the marriage. The marriage was at night time they said it's some kind of rule of the royal family.

They sent me the wedding dress. I just unwrapped it. And oh my God! That dress is something else! I can feel it's so expensive just by seeing it... I wore it. My mother helped me to wear it. "You look pretty... you'll be so happy" she said after she decorated me for the wedding.

It was time for the marriage. They opened the door to the marriage hall. People were clapped. My father took my hand and we started walking towards the priest. I looked up then I saw the prince. Gojo Satoru. This is the first time I saw him.

He looks so handsome as if God himself made him. He looks as if he's the god himself. He was staring at me. I looked away and walked. Then I stand in front of him. He took my hand. He was still staring at me and I was staring at the ground. Because I still wasn't in the support of the marriage.

The priest started doing his job. A few minutes passed away. "Y/n, say you accept him as your husband" the priest said. I looked at the priest then at Gojo.

"Me y/n l/n accept prince Gojo as my husband" I said looking at my hand. "Now prince you should say your line" the priest said. "Me, Prince Gojo Satoru, accept y/n as my wife" Gojo said. "Now you two may kiss" the priest said.

Gojo leaned over me and pressed his lips on mine and kissed me. I didn't kiss him back. He realised I didn't kiss him back when he pulled away he smirked at me. I looked away. All people started clapping and giving us congratulations.

The day passed. The next morning came. I woke up from my sleep. Last night Gojo said he won't be at home because he has some royal work to do. That's why he wasn't there. The castle was so gorgeous... I got fresh and took a bath. Then did my breakfast the maids gave.

I was walking in the hallway. A maid was walking with me. "Woww! Is that the castle's garden?" I asked pointing to the garden through the window. "Yes,my lady" she replied. "I loved it... I love roses" I said.

"you like roses?" A voice asked behind us. We turned around and saw it was Gojo. He walked towards me and took my hand to kiss the back of my hand. He was about to kiss when I snatched away my hand. "Uh... yeah... I loved the garden" I replied looking at the garden.

Gojo didn't say anything and smirked. "Why don't you go visit it... Yuta? Go show her the garden" Gojo said to his assistant Yuta. "Yes,my lord.... come with me, my lady " Yuta said. Then I went to the garden. Gojo watched me with a smirk on his face.

Two or three days passed. But at night Gojo didn't come for some important work. But every morning there would be a huge Rose bouquet. Of course, he knew I love roses. Those made me happy. But after one day in the morning, I woke up.

My eyes opened slowly. I looked at the window the sunlight was coming from. But when I turned around I screamed seeing someone sleep beside me. Then I realised it was Gojo. He woke up from my scream.

"what happened?!" He asked. "N-No nothing.... I'm sorry... I didn't realise it's you... You don't come at night, so..." I explained. "Oh... yes, I didn't have much work to do yesterday... that's why I came... but you were sleeping, so I didn't wake you up" Gojo replied.

"it's okay... I'm sorry I disturbed your sleep" I said. "No... it's okay" he replied. I went up from the bed. "My best friend Geto is coming today to visit us" He said. "Ok" I replied and went to take a bath.

Time passed. "Y/n... come here" Gojo called me. I went there. "Meet him... he's my best friend Geto Suguru" Gojo said. I looked at the guy in front of me. Long black hair, sharp eyes, he's such a handsome guy. "Nice to meet you Geto-saan" I greeted him. He took my hand and kissed the back of my hand. "Nice to meet you too, y/n" he said. I blushed at his kiss. That wasn't unnoticed by Gojo whose smile dropped immediately.

Gojo's POV

After greeting me and Suguru went to a private room to talk. "Satoru, you haven't feed on her yet?" Geto asked. "No I haven't" I replied. "But why... she's pure... I can smell it" Geto said. I chuckled. "Yeah I know... don't worry gonna have it soon" I replied. "I have to say... You have control of yourself.... I could never...my fangs were almost coming out!" Geto said. We both laughed.

Y/n's POV

Two days passed. Some days ago The maid told me Gojo said to show me the library because I like books. There were too many books. I went there whenever I felt bored. Today I was in the library. Searching for a new book to read.

There was a side of the library. The maids always told me not to go that side. They said nobody is allowed to go to that side of the library. Today I was alone in the library. Not a single maid was with me. I thought why not go and see what is on that side.

I locked the door of the library and went to that side. I couldn't understand why nobody is allowed there. There's nothing suspicious or anything. It's the same as the rest of the library. But the books on this side were old. I was reading the titles of those books.

Then I found a book named "The History Of The Gojo Clan". Interesting... that surely is an interesting book. I was also interested to know their history. I picked that book and opened it. It was a fancy book.

I turned the page. On the first page the big heading says 'MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES '. Well that's an interesting topic but why is it written in the book of the Gojo clan's history? I started reading the book. The book says...

You have probably heard about the vampires... What if I say they are real... Not only vampires, many more mythological creatures. The Gojo Clan. They are one of the vampire families. But something about the Gojo clan's vampires is special. They can read minds. As you know vampires are immortal. A few years ago a New vampire was born in the Gojo Clan. His name is Gojo Satoru. And he was born as the strongest vampire ever....

I didn't dare to read more. My hands are getting cold, my eyes wide open, heart skipped some beats, blood is getting chill. What in the fucking hell did I just read?! No no no.... fuck! Now I can process everything from that day. That farmer's death, a voice in my room that night... everything makes sense now! I can't let Gojo know that I know it... I've to act normal.

Time passed

Everything goes well. I acted normal. Nothing bad happened. After dinner I went to the bedroom. Now the things I read today were coming to my mind again. I changed myself from the royal gown to in a night dress. It was storming outside tonight. Suddenly I heard a knock on the door.

I gasped hearing the knocking sound. But nobody comes in this hour. Maybe any maid came to tell me something. I thought. I went to the door and opened it. My eyes slightly widened but then made them normal as I saw who it was. It was Gojo.

"you look shocked seeing me in my own bedroom" he said in a sarcastic tone and went in. "No... it's just...you don't come at night" I said and closed the door. I was scared of him but can't let him know. He was taking off his coat. "Yes... I don't have any work to do... it's not like I don't come to sleep...I just didn't come those nights because I had some royal work... it's done now I'll be free at night" he said with a smile.

I smiled back. My hand was slightly shaking. Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it! Or else he'll know. I keep telling myself. He looked at me and slightly tilted his head. "Don't think about what?" He asked. My eyes widened. "W-what?" I said. "Don't think about what?" He asked seriously.

Fuck I forgot that he can read my mind that I'm telling myself not to think. He started walking towards me. I walked backwards. My back touched the table. He was standing in front of me. He tilted my chin up to look at him. "Don't think about what, y/n?" He repeated. I just stared at him. Then he smirked. Chill run through my spine.

"so you know, huh?" He asked with a smirk. My breath almost stopped. Fuck! It wasn't supposed to be like this! I thought. "Yeah...but it is like this" he whispered. Tears forming in my eyes. "P-Please.... please" the only thing that came out of my mouth.

He wrapped his hand around my waist and picked me up with one hand. Then took me towards the bed. "Please what, darling?" He asked. He laid me on my back and now he was on top of me. "I don't wanna.... I don't wanna die... please" I replied. Now the tears started falling from my eyes.

His face was too close to mine. He took my hand. Kissed the palm of my hand. Then licked the pulse. "Didn't you snatch away your hand from me when I was about to kiss your hand.... But give your hand to Suguru...let him kiss your hand?" He said with a smirk.

"I didn't on purpose... P-Please" I sobbed. "You know I can read mind right?... What were you thinking? He's handsome? You loved his eyes?" He asked. I couldn't reply I just sobbed. "But I read your mind on our wedding night too... when you first saw me" he said with a smirk.

"but that doesn't change the fact that you acted like a brat with me but gave attention to my best friend" he said. He brought his face to my neck and inhaled. "Now tell me what I should do?" He said. I couldn't reply. He laughed and looked at me.

His fangs slowly came out. Fear grabbed me. I started crying again. "Please.. P-Please please" I sobbingly begged. He licked my neck and his fangs rubbed against my skin. That gave me chills. "Where's your bratty attitude now, huh?" He asked.

"please... I won't do it again please... I'm sorry" I said. "So you're saying you'll behave?... let's see " he said. Then he grabbed the top of my night dress and tore it in one snatch. I screamed and tried to cover myself under him. "Now you just said you will behave!" He said and pinned me to the bed.

He pressed his lips on mine. Forcing his tongue inside my mouth. Kissing me roughly. I pushed his chest with full of my force. But he didn't even move an inch. Of course vampires are strong. And I read in that journal that he's the strongest vampire. He pulled away. I was taking a deep breath.

He kissed on my chest. "You're so gorgeous" he said and took a nipple in his mouth. Sucking on it harshly. I moaned loudly. He pressed his body down to mine. His dick was pressed against my thigh. I could feel it was fucking hard.

He pulled away from my breast. "Mmhh... you're driving me crazy" he said rubbing his crotch on my thigh. "Ughh...god I can't.... I can't anymore!" He said then stopped rubbing his crotch. He sat up and took off his clothes.

He positioned himself. "P-Please don't" I said. He rubbed the tip on my clit. "Shhhh" He said with a smirk and slammed his length inside me. I screamed. He let out a groan. "F-fuck... you feel like heaven!" He moaned.

He started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. "You don't know...you don't know how much I wanted this....fuckkkk....it feels so good" he moaned loudly. His thrust became harder and harder. "That day .... you were with your friends....in the field.... I was...fuckkk.... I was there feeding on someone and I saw you.... You're the first girl I have ever seen this gorgeous..... I promised myself to marry you.....and yes... I was the one who came to your house that night when you were reading some books" he said between moans.

"can Suguru make you feel like this?... Can he?... You were being a bad wife that day, y/n" he said. He kissed my neck. "Do you know how hard it is for a vampire not to feed on a virgin" he said between breaths. He thrust more roughly. "It's hurting.... I-It's hurting too much " I sobbed.

The thing I thought came out true. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. "I want blood....let me feed on you" he said.... before I could respond he pulled out his frangs and dug them on my neck. I screamed in the pain. But he was being gentle while feeding on me. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision blurred out.

"your blood tastes so good...oh, fainted already?" He said with a chuckle. "Darling, don't be afraid... I won't hurt you... I love you... why would I give you a marriage proposal, If I had to kill you" he whispered and kissed the forehead of my unconscious body.

Give me your requests guys...

I love when you give me your requests 💕

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vixstarria · 3 months ago

Text

Sweat

Astarion, Halsin and Tav become a triad after the fall of the Netherbrain. This is a story of how it begins, progresses, and eventually ends.

Astarion x named F!Tav x Halsin

porn with (!) plot / character study, but through smut

18+, smut, threesome, double penetration, lots of dirty talk, what else... you know what, just refer to the AO3 tags, link below

In my headcanon, Halsin approaches both Asmodea and Astarion together, rather than just Asmodea alone.

This fic picks up their story where I left it in A Night at the Inn, and is a companion for Chapter 10 of Bloodbang Chronicles (in which Astarion is the one receiving - you can read that chapter as a standalone if you want). All three pieces are threesome smut.

Or, if you want more of Astarion's dynamic with Asmodea, check out Bloodbang Chronicles generally.

Anyway, enjoy!

Approx. 7.9k words

AO3

Each section break signifies a jump forward in time.

Of course the bloody druid was after her too - just about everyone else in this blasted group had been at one point or another. Astarion sighed inwardly as he observed the druid conversing with his lover.

Halsin hadn’t been with them long. He hadn’t mingled much with the rest of the group during the journey from the Emerald Grove, and then, on reaching the Shadowcursed Lands, he had stayed back at Last Light, having only rejoined them recently.

But ever since, the druid had been giving Asmodea increasing amounts of attention. Even now, having just finished talking with her, Halsin's eyes trailed her as he drew on his pipe.

Why should he be any different - just about everyone else had made some advances on their de facto ‘leader’ by then. Only Karlach had always stayed on friendly terms with her – Astarion had worried that might change after that blacksmith Dammon sorted her little tactile problem, but it appeared their bond had remained sister-like.

As for his own claim on the woman – it seemed he was widely disregarded as a rake. Taken for a temporary thing she and anyone else would discard without a moment’s hesitation, if anything more tangible came along. Never mind that his feelings had been growing each day, despite his efforts to the contrary. As had her own, towards him, unless he was blind.

Was she even aware of any of this..? She had to be.

As Astarion pondered this, Asmodea sat down next to him, pressing her thigh against his and leaning against him; as though just a small fragile thing seeking protection or warmth from him – despite the fact she barely needed the former anymore, and he couldn’t provide the latter. Still, it made for an excellent and obvious display for everyone around them. Without thinking, he pulled her against him by her waist, pressing his lips against her temple.

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling in lighthearted glee.

“I know,” she whispered, inclining her head slightly towards the druid.

“I know you know,” Astarion murmured back. Well, now he did, anyway.

“Good,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips and turning her attention to the food in front of her.

Astarion glanced at Halsin, who sat across the fire. The druid met his gaze. Not in challenge, but rather with... open curiosity. The druid’s lips curled in a genuine smile, his eyes lingering on Astarion’s longer than generally acceptable.

…Oh. …Hah!

Astarion looked away, amused, smirking into his wine goblet. It seemed he had misread the druid, somewhat. Yes, he knew that look very well.

Godsdamned wood elves…

“Could you go ask Lae’zel for one of her training swords?”

“Why?”

“I’ll show you. ...But also I think she will be less inclined to murder me for wasting everyone’s time, if she’s curious about me needing a sword with my morning bath.”

“She’ll have to murder me and Halsin first.” Astarion grumbled, but left the inn’s bathing room to retrieve the sword.

Him and Halsin… A debaucherous night spent with both of them, lasting well into the morning. Astarion had mostly watched or directed her and Halsin, still not wanting to be touched himself, but it was, undoubtedly, the most they had done since before the night they had their heart to heart in the Shadowcursed Lands.

Halsin hesitated at the door.

“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of them, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” She knew the druid would have accepted whichever answer he was given, but she could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.

She exchanged a look with Astarion. It was he who finally spoke.

“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realise,” he said, with a grin. “But let’s talk about that later.”

“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving.

What in the hells had they just started..?

Astarion returned with the blunted practice weapon.

“Most of the others have gone out into the city. And you were right, the moment I asked Lae’zel for a sword, she swapped all murderous intent to curiosity.”

Asmodea took the sword and submerged most if it in the lukewarm water in the tub, channelling a Heat Metal spell through it.

“Old bard trick,” she explained to Astarion, waiting for the water to heat up. “So,” she added, looking up at Astarion. “Halsin.”

“Yes,” he said, thoughtfully. “Halsin.”

They exchanged and held equally incredulous looks, before breaking out into laughter.

“I told you he wanted both of us!” Asmodea exclaimed amid the tittering. “So… What do you think? Truly?” she asked once the laughter had died down a bit.

“It… It was certainly entertaining, sharing you with him,” Astarion snickered.

“And you..? Do you think you would be comfortable..? Being ‘shared’?”

“I’m not averse to the idea... But, for now, he might be more than I can handle.”

“...Well, with enough patience, determination and grease...”

“Why do I even like you...” Astarion muttered, heaving a massive, exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. “That is not how I meant that!” he exclaimed. “...Although that too, most likely.”

They broke into another fit of laughter.

“But I… I don’t see any harm in it. I think it could be good, even,” Astarion said, softly this time, once they had both calmed down. “What about you..?”

Astarion sat on the roof of the Elfsong, watching the streets below. He was most certainly not on the lookout for two figures - a slender one with a disarray of locs on her head, and a robust-looking one that would tower over the first. How long had they been gone now, anyway?

He sipped his wine, straight from the bottle. It was pleasant, but lacked the kick he had grown used to from adding blood to it. Wyll would have agreed to donate some, if he’d only asked, but he couldn’t bear to go downstairs and be seen by anyone. He knew what they were all thinking.

Asmodea and Halsin had been eager to explore whatever it was they had set in motion. As for Astarion, after the initial elation had subsided, he just wanted time to himself to think, and so he had all but shoved them out the door together. Halsin had made it abundantly clear he wanted to include Astarion. Astarion, in turn, assured them both that he was happy for them to spend some time alone that night. And Asmodea… Asmodea had been visibly conflicted, but listened to him in the end.

And now he was hiding out on the roof, not being in the mood to explain to anyone why his lover had suddenly taken off with another. They had tried to be discreet, but you couldn’t sneeze without everyone in camp knowing about it and making it their business, much less have a little… arrangement.

Was that all it was?

He probed at his own feelings as he swirled the wine in his mouth, and found them to be a nonsensical potpourri of jealousy, relief, doubt, giddiness, inadequacy, excitement, fear and hope. The emotions mixed and swirled, constantly replacing one another at the forefront of his mind.

Astarion found himself, once again, contemplating how he himself felt about the druid.

There was a physical attraction, certainly. But also an admiration. A certain peace and serenity was to be found in his company - something Astarion hadn’t felt in centuries. Astarion often found himself discarding all his usual masks with Halsin, disarmed by the druid’s own earnestness.

Above all, he felt safe.

What would it be like..? Having this… gentle giant, to share with Asmodea.

Sweet pondering thoughts switched abruptly to more mundane and grounded ones.

What were they doing now? Talking about him, perhaps? Resolving that he wasn’t necessary after all? Or maybe just happily fucking each other’s brains out, not giving him a single thought to begin with?

Was all this just a massive, stupid mistake?

Thoughts spiralling and racing, Astarion gulped down more of the wine. He could go for more of that herb, whatever it was, that Halsin had given him the other night, Astarion thought - he refused to believe it was really catnip. He surveyed the street below, again. How long could it possibly take?!

Karlach appeared on the roof, holding a bottle of her own by the neck.

Ah, here comes the envoy of the pity committee…

“Hey Fangs. You alright..? Do I need to knock some sense into anyone?”

“I’ll have you know, I had their invitation, and they had my blessing,” he all but snarled, choosing to cut straight to the point.

“Right, whatever,” she said, sitting down next to him. “You elves are fucking weird, you know.”

“Yes, well, after a few centuries you change your perspective on some trivialities,” he snapped.

Karlach only emitted a brief, bitter laugh.

…Shit.

Astarion belatedly realised she was the last person to whom he should have said anything about longevity or life expectancy. He turned to look at her. Her forehead, he now noticed, bore a sheen of perspiration despite the pleasantly cool weather, her breathing was more laboured than usual.

“How’s your engine?” he asked, softly.

“Shit,” she said, taking a swig from her bottle, and drawing her knees up against her chest.

Another nail for his proverbial coffin.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against himself. He didn’t know what to say, but this - this was close enough to what he had done countless times for drunk and newly single women seeking a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride on, before whisking them to their demise - though he truly meant the gesture this time.

“Saw an old friend of mine today,” Karlach said, quietly. “She’s having a baby. I told her I’d go see her once all this was over.” She sniffed, masking it as a chuckle. “Never going to happen, is it?”

Cazador’s presence still looming over him, tadpole still in his brain, his lover in another’s arms (at his own insistence, no less), AND he could lose his friend any day.

Astarion said nothing and rubbed her shoulder.

He lay in bed when Asmodea finally returned. She seemed hesitant, only giving him a worried look when she realised he was still awake. He wordlessly lifted the edge of the blanket in invitation. With some relief writ on her face, she joined him under the covers. She fidgeted, as though unsure just how to settle down, until he pulled her tightly against himself.

“Do you want to know..?” she asked.

He thought she would smell of the druid. Instead, she smelled like she just bathed.

“Not really,” he answered.

She snuggled against him as she would ordinarily, to go to sleep, but the silence between them was pregnant, and before long, she sighed and leaned away from him, reclining on her elbow.

“Star…”

Astarion opened his eyes and met her gaze.

Gods, but he didn’t want to talk about anything just then.

He pressed a finger to her lips, then stroked her face, gently, looking into her eyes. What was it he read in them..? Concern, maybe. Worry. Pleading? Was that… fear..?

Something twisted in his chest. He couldn’t bear to have her look at him like that.

He pulled her back against himself, pressing his lips against hers, as she melted into him, her tension beginning to dissipate. She wanted to say something, but he kissed her again and again, hands beginning to roam her. If only he could show her all his love... He caressed reassurance into her body, as he knew words would fail him now. Pulled her clothes off so he could feel her, all of her, and be felt. She did the same for him, also having given up on saying anything, turning instead to conveying her affection and longing through touch alone, just as they had done all that time ago, when their blossoming love for one another was still an open but unspoken secret.

But what had happened to this same body earlier..?

Even through the tenderness that had just overtaken him, he found that the thought intrigued him. His mind wandered to images of her writhing with the druid, coming undone in ecstasy, the way he had already witnessed them do earlier. The images caused a warm coil to tighten at the bottom of his stomach. How close were they to reality, he wondered.

As her clothes came off and her body wrapped around his, his fingers probed and sought evidence of her evening. Was she too tender? Too swollen? Did she seem sore? Was she bruised anywhere? The druid had been mindful of his proportions and movements in the night that they all shared together, but who knew, maybe Halsin lost his restraint and had simply healed any damage he had done after.

Perhaps he did want to know.

Lewd thoughts turned to outrage at the very idea that anyone might have possibly hurt what was his. Even if he willingly shared some part of her. She was his.

Astarion’s arms tightened around her, and he deepened his kiss, moaning into her mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and whimpered, softly.

“Ugh, gross…” Astarion heard Karlach saying a few beds over. “Hey Gale… Gale!”

The wizard produced something between a snore and a disgruntled salutation, and cast a habitual sphere of silence around the pair’s bed, before presumably immediately falling back asleep somewhere beyond the privacy screens.

Astarion’s fingers slipped between Asmodea’s legs, earning him a moan as she spread wider for him. Wet, so wet. For him. As she should be.

He wanted to fuck her hard into the bed, lay his claim on her, but he didn’t want to be compared with the druid so soon after whatever had happened between him and her. Instead, he slipped his fingers inside her, twisting and curling them, digging into the sweet spot within her - where she told him no one before him had ever pleasured her properly. This was his and his only. He pressed his fingers into it rougher than usual, until she panted and whined. Had she made these same sounds for Halsin earlier this night?

“Gods… Please don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Oh I’m not stopping anytime soon, darling,” he whispered in her ear.

Perhaps sensing something different in his voice, she opened her eyes and looked up at him as he leaned over her, his fingers still working inside her.

“How many times did you come for him?”

“Ast-” she began.

“How many?” he asked again, punctuating his words by rolling her clit with his thumb.

She swallowed hard, her cunt already starting to pulse in little pre-orgasm contractions around his fingers.

“Twice,” she said, wetting her lips.

“Then you owe me three.”

He moved his hand faster, mercilessly building more and more pressure.

Mine… Before anyone else’s, mine. Not the druid’s. Not her bloody patron’s. Not the godsdamned Emperor’s. Not that devil’s. No one’s. Only mine.

Her moans were mounting, almost turning into screams. She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, stilling, looking into his eyes and accepting what he was giving her. Just as she threw her head back and released a desperate groan, he sank his fangs into her neck.

Mine, mine, mine, mine…

She came all over his hand, completely losing all control, legs shaking as he stroked her more gently through her orgasm, even as he drank from her.

He broke away from her neck, humming soothingly as she gasped and sobbed quietly in the aftershocks of her orgasm. He kissed up her neck until his lips were at her ear again.

“One.”

Astarion watched Asmodea and Karlach toppling over one another, laughing, as they swapped stories of living in Avernus and living on the road travelling inn to inn (which at times sounded to have been rougher than Avernus). Halsin shared their table. He had been nursing the same tankard of mead for the past few hours, Astarion noticed, probably having gotten the drink solely to avoid anyone else inevitably forcing one on him.

A semi-decent bardic troupe had taken stage, playing something raucous but catchy.

“Come on, Halsin, come dance with me!” Karlach offered.

“I’m afraid I have two left legs, and a bear’s grace besides,” he declined with a smile and firm shake of his head.

“Aww,” Karlach pouted. “What about you, Fangs? Dance with me?”

“Darling, you have to wine and dine me before you get to dance me, and I’ve been carrying your tab ever since we got to the city.”

“Please??”

“No.”

“Ever seen a cat on a leash?” Asmodea butted in. “When it just plops down on the ground and refuses to move, even as you drag it? That’s Astarion when he doesn’t want to do something,” she laughed. “Let’s go, I’ll dance with you.”

And just like that, Astarion found himself left alone at the table with Halsin.

“Perhaps something needs to be said,” Halsin remarked with a coy grin, once the silence stretched too long for comfort. If Astarion hadn’t known any better, he might even have thought that the druid was teasing him.

Oh for hells’ sake…

Without a word, Astarion turned towards the druid, grasped his face with both hands, and pulled him down to kiss him.

Somewhere in the back of Astarion’s mind, he thought that if he had been a poet, he would have said that the kiss tasted something like honey and the warmth of a hearth on a rainy night. But no, the kiss mostly tasted like Halsin’s tobacco mixture, with a subtle hint of the cheap mead he had been pretending to drink. By no means repugnant, but not earth-shattering either.

But then he was pulled against a broad chest by strong but gentle hands, his kiss returned with tender passion and reverence, and something inside him fluttered.

They had taken to sleeping together, tiring of the game of musical chairs when it came to the large bed at their disposal, and the necessity to continuously move their things around.

They hadn’t had another night as debauched as their very first one - a kind of subdued modesty had replaced open lust once feelings were laid bare, their lovemaking treated with delicacy.

It hadn’t yet been long since Astarion had begun allowing himself to fully indulge in sex again, and thus far it had only been with Asmodea, and only privately.

That night, they both happened to find themselves awake next to the sleeping druid. Unassuming embraces led to tender kisses, led to sensual touches, led to unabashed groping and stroking, until they became a tangle of limbs, giggling and shushing at each other, a sheet pulled over their heads as though it would hide or muffle anything they had been doing.

Astarion had been leaving a trail of kisses down Asmodea’s neck when she realised that the sheet was slowly but steadily slipping off to one side. She turned her now uncovered head to see Halsin tugging on the covers, until she and Astarion were laid completely bare before the druid.

Astarion glanced at the other elf but only went right back to kissing and caressing her, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to do so before an audience.

Asmodea’s breath hitched as Astarion’s fingers, which had been playing with a nipple, slid lower, to stroke her slit, gliding with no resistance, spreading her slick.

“Hmm, already..?” he purred in her ear. “You like being watched, don’t you?” He grinned and continued to caress between her legs, dipping his fingers inside her.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she said, innocently.

Astarion simply brought his fingers up to her mouth in response, letting her lick and suck her own juices off them, groaning softly. He continued to move his fingers in and out of her mouth, letting her suck and nibble on them.

“Should we show him more, my love?” he murmured, loud enough that he was sure that Halsin heard as well. “Should we show him how I make you come?”

An assenting hum had barely left Asmodea, when Astarion sat up between her legs, reaching to rub and slide his erection between her legs, coating it in her slick.

“My wanton minx… Always so eager,” he purred, before burying his cock inside her.

He plunged deep inside, but only gave her a few cursory thrusts, before leaning over her and beginning to roll his hips against her in hard, rhythmical, circular motions. He kept her stretched and full with his cock, but didn’t give her much inner friction, instead focusing the pressure on her clit. Persistent, knowing, unrelenting. But also gentle and loving. He could keep going like this as long as she needed - not that this ever took long.

Asmodea moaned and sighed in pleasure, the sensation gently but steadily bringing her closer and closer to her peak. She relaxed into it, beginning to pulse and squeeze around Astarion’s length before long, her moans building.

“That’s it, show him…” he purred. “Show him how you come on my cock.”

The sound of his voice brought her over the edge, melting helplessly under him in soft, keening moans. Only then did he really begin thrusting, perhaps being unable to withstand any more of this tease himself.

She doubted it had been much of a display, but the druid stirred next to them with a throaty groan,

“Beautiful…” he whispered.

Asmodea drew Astarion in a kiss, before rolling on top of him, dismounting, and kissing down his neck and torso towards his cock, rock-hard with his own unreleased need.

He breathed hard as she kissed and licked around it, perhaps not entirely unaffected by the presence of another in their bed either.

“Do you want me to do this,” she purred, regarding him from beneath her lashes, as she kissed the tender skin of his inner thighs, “or Halsin?”

Astarion hesitated, cock twitching in desperation to be pleasured by anyone.

“You,” he breathed, finally. She eagerly licked up his shaft and swirled her tongue around the head, and Astarion fell back against the pillows, shutting his eyes and tangling his fingers in her hair. “…This time,” he added.

It was Halsin’s decision to return to Reithwin after the fall of the Netherbrain. He sought to rebuild the city, gathering orphans, misfits and others who were displaced by the Absolute’s army. Astarion and Asmodea chose to go with him, not wanting to be separated, and not having any better ideas or plans besides.

It was a strange time in their lives. Elation at newfound freedom, mixed with the grief for the loss of Astarion’s ability to walk in the sun, and the overall uncertainty of their future. Neither were accustomed to what they had found themselves in.

Asmodea had returned to what she knew best, providing entertainment for the residents of the settlement. The children adored her, to her bemusement, bringing her small gifts: drawings, wreaths made of flowers that now grew throughout what used to be cursed and barren lands, beads they insisted she braid and tie into her hair.

Astarion in turn had been talked by Halsin into giving literacy and history lessons to the orphans. In part because there weren’t many others willing or able to do it, and in part, Asmodea suspected, simply to give him something to occupy himself with - he tried to hide it, but he had been miserable ever since the tadpole was removed from his brain along with all its benefits.

She walked in at the end of one such lesson, the makeshift classroom illuminated by candles and magelights, curtains and shutters drawn securely against the daylight.

“You’re very patient with them,” Asmodea noted with a smile, once the classroom cleared.

“I have an entire eternity to wait while they figure out the difference between ‘d’ and ‘b’,” Astarion sighed.

“Another group arrived today. Lots of kids. They’ll be joining these before long.”

“If they must,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But can you do me a favour?” he asked. “No more teenage girls - someone else can deal with them. In fact, you take them.”

Asmodea lifted an eyebrow in question.

“They come in here, painted with rouge and charcoal, and try to make eyes at me instead of listening,” Astarion explained. “It’s disconcerting.”

The three lounged on a sofa in the house they had claimed for themselves. At one end, Halsin was busy with some ledgers that had been dumped on him - gods only knew why, he didn’t have a head for this kind of work. At the other, Astarion was likewise quietly busy with some novel, biding his time until the last rays of the sun hid. He would be out the door for a hunt the moment it was safe for him. Asmodea sprawled between them, her head on Astarion’s lap, her legs thrown over one of Halsin’s thighs.

Gods, but she was bored.

She regarded Halsin and the open misery written on his face as he tried to reconcile… What was it? Purchase orders of masonry and tools, against what had actually been recorded as delivered, against what had been charged.

Her bare foot slid between Halsin’s legs and pressed into his crotch, through his breeches.

“Could it be one of the missing hammers is here..?”

“Not now, my heart,” was his response.

She continued to lightly rub her foot against the bulge.

“Or is this one of the pillars..?”

“I must finish this before tomorrow,” he said, though he did not shift away from her, and had indeed begun to harden beneath her prodding.

“My, it’s erecting all by itself, why have we bothered to order any supplies at all when we have such marvels at hand?”

“You are truly testing my patience today,” he said in a low growl.

The ledger went flying across the room as she kicked it out of Halsin’s hands. The druid’s nostrils flared and he gave her a smouldering look.

“I warned you.”

She squealed as she found herself suddenly yanked by her leg down the sofa, off Astarion’s lap.

“Astarion!!” she laughed, reaching for him.

“No, no darling, you poked the bear and brought this upon yourself,” he said, unaffected, turning a page. “Now you must face the consequences.”

Halsin pulled her onto his own lap, flipping her onto her stomach, holding her down firmly with one hand, and pulling her pants down with the other.

“You brute! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” she cried out, trying not to laugh.

Halsin, though a generous, attentive and passionate lover, was not ordinarily one for such games, and getting him into a state of mind for one was a rare treat.

A loud sound resonated through the room, as a smack landed on one of her ass cheeks.

“I am teaching you a lesson.”

It could have been much harder, the druid was holding back, as per usual.

“How dare you?! Release me at once, you savage,” she cried, her voice faltering on the last word, as Halsin delivered another smack.

Astarion shifted where he lounged, now watching them through lidded eyes.

“It’s no use, you know - you’re just throwing more oil on the flames.”

Asmodea gasped as Halsin’s hand slid between her legs, stroking her.

“You’re right. Should I cease?”

She struggled and kicked but remained securely restrained by the druid, his digits now slipping inside her rapidly moistening hole.

“Absolutely not. You must remain steadfast and determined. Perhaps double down on your efforts until you see a result.”

The hand between her legs left and delivered a series of blows on her rear, the slaps now having a sting to them. Asmodea moaned between each one.

She looked at Astarion with her best round-eyed pleading face. His own book had been discarded as well.

“Star? My love? My sweet? Are you just - ah! - going to let him do this to me?!”

“There there, my love… I’ll kiss it better once he’s done with you.”

They lay beneath the stars, bathed in moonlight, the night warm and serene. Asmodea’s head rested on Astarion’s shoulder, their fingers entwined.

“What is the difference between me and him, for you?” Astarion asked, softly. “In the way you feel about us?”

She paused to consider her words before responding.

“With you, I feel like I can take on the entire world. Like we could set it ablaze and stand atop a pile of rubble, holding hands and watching it all burn,” she answered, before growing quiet again for some moments.

“And with him, I feel like maybe the world doesn’t need to burn. ...Or if it does, no matter what, he would be an undisturbed, peaceful grove. A place where one would be protected and nourished. Where they could forget about everything outside. ...Only they couldn’t stay in that grove forever.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Astarion chuckled quietly. “I think I feel more or less the same way. It’s that, and…” he began to say something, but cut himself short, and shook his head, not finishing the sentence.

“And what?” Asmodea encouraged him, smiling. “Tell me!”

“It’s going to sound completely idiotic after what you just said,” he explained, before sighing and continuing, at her insistence. “…And sometimes, it… feels nice, for me, to be the small and delicate one,” he explained, coyly.

Halsin’s cock filled her, thrusting into her in short, rhythmic strokes - he was always so conscious of not hurting anyone, even when they wanted him to simply let go.

She arched her back, legs spread wide, ass raised to meet his hips, and bucked back into him wantonly, sliding on his length. Her back would hurt later, but for now she didn’t have a care in the world.

Astarion’s cock filled her mouth. She worked it with the rhythm of Halsin’s thrusts from behind her, keeping a hand firmly on the base of his shaft, in case any sudden surprises came from Halsin.

“Good girl…” groaned Astarion. “My good, dirty girl…”

“She’s like a wildcat in heat,” followed from Halsin, his voice heavy with lust.

She moaned at the praise and curved her back further, trying to open herself up even more, urging Halsin further, deeper.

He gripped her hips harder with one of his hands, continuing to thrust into her, and dragged the fingertips of the other along and up her ass cheek, until they brushed over her puckered hole.

She groaned around Astarion’s cock as Halsin’s thumb teased around the edge of her asshole, hoping he would do more, trying to buck and grind her hips against his cock and hand harder.

“Careful, it’s me she’ll bite if you make her too desperate,” warned Astarion.

Halsin applied more pressure, rubbing her hole, as she mewled and whined around Astarion’s cock, trying to continue sucking it, but losing any finesse or rhythm. It only made him gasp and bury his fingers in her hair, tugging on it and holding her in place, as he started to fuck her mouth himself.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” said Halsin. Fucking hilarious, she thought, considering the things that were happening to her mouth at that moment. Well, they did have other ways of communicating set in place, for just this type of situation.

“She doesn’t want you to stop one bit,” purred Astarion. “Do you, pet?” He tugged on her hair and tilted her head, keeping his cock deep in her mouth. “Look at me,” he whispered. She met his eyes as he continued to slide his cock between her lips. His pupils were blown with lust and want. “Do you like what he’s doing?”

Asmodea could only hum in assent. The pressure from Halsin’s finger told her he was just on the cusp of dipping inside, and it was driving her mad.

“Think your tight little hole is ready for more today..?” Astarion purred, stroking her face as he fucked it. “Tell me.”

His dick slipped out of her mouth.

“Yes, for hells’ sake,” she gasped.

But, to her dismay, the druid slid out of her entirely, leaving her frustrated and empty. Before she could react, Astarion lifted her up on her knees from her position on all fours, and kissed her, caressing and teasing her tongue with his own.

“Do you want to try something new with us?” he whispered, his lips brushing against her own, before leaning away.

Off to her side, Halsin had laid on his back, lazily stroking his cock, which had remained at full mast for her. He beckoned her with his free hand, and, released by Astarion, she crawled on top of him. She wanted to taste him then, but he kept leading her up, until their hips were level, and then impatiently plunged back inside her.

Astarion’s arm wrapped around her from behind, and brought her back up into a sitting position on Halsin’s cock. He kissed and nibbled on her neck as the druid thrusted shallowly inside her.

Had they orchestrated this..?

“Hmm,” Asmodea hummed, with a sly smile. “What was that about tight holes?”

“Oh, this?” Astarion said, distractedly, sliding his fingers along her hip and the cleft of her ass until it reached her asshole and rubbed, teasing. “Why, is there something you want me to do with it..?”

She nearly hissed at him for his gloating, but Halsin chose that moment to pinch one of her nipples, and the noise that came out of her instead was closer to a whimper.

“You’re the one who said something about… wanting to try something new.” she managed, as Astarion continued to rub her hole, smirking. “So what is it?”

“Guess,” he purred against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Astarion had fucked her ass before. He wasn’t the first person she’d tried that with, but he was the one who managed to teach her to actually enjoy it. It wouldn’t be that, not exactly, but given Halsin’s presence and their obvious smugness - even Halsin appeared cocksure and brash…

“Are you both going to fuck me at once?” she grinned, biting her lip.

“Do you want us to?” he asked, his voice pure velvet. “Say it.”

Gods, this fucking man... Fine, two could play this game. Three, if Halsin was in the mood to go along with it - he usually wasn’t vocal, a contrast to Astarion, who simply wouldn’t ever shut up.

She leaned back, twisting and grinding hard against Halsin, and caught Astarion’s earlobe between her teeth, nipping at it, before murmuring back to him.

“I want to feel both of you, at once, fucking me, filling me. Now will you stop dallying? I want you inside me.”

Astarion let out what sounded like an involuntary groan, but before Asmodea could claim moral victory, she found herself thrown against Halsin’s chest, still stuffed with his cock, ass up.

“Inside you..? Where? Here?” Astarion asked, innocently, just before crouching down to tongue her asshole.

She gasped and laughed, squirming at the sudden sensation. But at last, it appeared Astarion had had enough of teasing her, as he retrieved a vial of oil, and hastily but generously coated his fingers with it, spreading it over her puckered hole as well.

She ground lightly against Halsin as Astarion inserted one finger, and then, at her obvious ease and eagerness, another. The druid was holding her down, not giving her much friction, and she mewled in protest at being restrained so.

“I thought you’d like that…” Astarion breathed in her ear. “More..?”

His fingers were a teasing promise of everything he was about to do to her, and she found she simply could not wait, and could not allow Astarion to find any reason to keep holding back.

“Please…” she begged.

“Please what?” he rasped.

“Please fuck me.”

She heard his breath hitch at her pleading. His fingers slipped out, and moments later, at last, she felt the tip of his cock against her entrance, slowly but insistently pushing its way in. She gasped as the sensation became overwhelming. There was no possible way that she could fit a single millimetre more of him, couldn’t be stretched even a hair’s width wider - and yet he kept going, cooing at her wide-eyed whimpers, until he filled her completely, pressing his chest against her back.

“Well look at you, filled to the brim with elf cock…” Astarion’s taunt didn’t carry its usual edge, given the way his voice trembled.

“I think she’s earned a little reward for that,” said Halsin, reaching up to cup and tenderly caress her breasts.

“I think so too,” said Astarion.

Astarion’s fingers, still covered in some of the oil, snaked down her stomach to her clit, and began drawing circles around it. Asmodea shut her eyes and threw her head back against Astarion’s shoulder, moaning.

The sensation, starting off as a building warmth, quickly grew more intense as his fingers sped up, gliding over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips began to twitch, but were held down securely by Halsin, as he started to thrust up into her.

“This is your reward for being such a good girl,” Astarion whispered in her ear, his fingers now flicking her clit quickly.

She was caught off-guard by how quickly an orgasm overtook her, suddenly finding herself melting, helplessly pulsing and clenching around the hard lengths inside her. The sheer force of it had both Astarion and Halsin groaning and gasping, in short order.

“Gods… We have to make her do that again,” laughed Astarion.

“You’ve read my mind,” the druid said in agreement.

They both began to thrust into her, gently but persistently, rhythmically, and all she could do was pant and whimper at the stretch of both their cocks inside her, even as they talked around her.

“She’s so incredibly tight like this,” Astarion groaned. He paused, briefly, with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “I can feel you through her,” he gasped. “I can feel you thrusting.”

“Can you..?” Halsin rasped, and sped up, gripping her hips tightly, making both Asmodea and Astarion pant. Astarion swore through his teeth and picked up his own pace, unable to hold back any longer.

Asmodea found herself thrown atop the druid’s chest once again, as her lovers lost their reserve and began fucking her vigorously.

Good, it felt so fucking good, this intense pounding in both her holes, and she tried to voice as much, knowing how much Astarion loved it when she talked or praised him during their lovemaking, but any words she tried to say came out as unintelligible babbling.

It was a wonder how easily they’d found this maddening rhythm, working seamlessly to bring her and each other over the edge with their thrusting - but she supposed they had a combined 500 years of experience on her, at least.

She gave up on trying to say anything and simply moaned into Halsin’s neck.

“Is our little vixen going to come for us again..?” Astarion had crouched over her, keeping her sandwiched between himself and Halsin.

Her clit was pressed tightly against Halsin’s pelvis, and between that, the way the head of his impressive cock dragged against all her most sensitive parts with each thrust, as well as the sensation of Astarion’s hips mercilessly snapping against her ass, burying himself in her again and again, another orgasm began to wash over her.

Feeling her walls throb, nearing another climax, the elves also lost all control, chasing their own release within her body with reckless abandon. Her world became nought but bucking hips and the sound of grunts and smacking flesh. She could no longer tell where her body ended and theirs began. Her legs shook as everything between them convulsed in shockwaves resonating through her entire body. Astarion bit down on her shoulder with a strangled groan just as Halsin gave her a final hard thrust with an animalistic growl.

Asmodea’s vision blurred, and she must have passed for some moments, as she came to, to find that the frantic pounding had once again been replaced by gentle rocking, as final orgasmic aftershocks were ridden out.

Astarion slipped out of her first, leaving a trail of tender kisses down her shoulders and back, as Halsin simply embraced her, pressing his lips against the crown of her head, while she continued to lie on his chest.

“Did you like that, darling?” Astarion whispered, as though he had any doubt about the answer.

“Uh-huh,” she managed, remaining on top of Halsin as Astarion got up, somewhat shaky, in search of a towel.

“Are you well, my heart?” Halsin murmured to her.

“Yep,” she susurrated. “I’m just going to stay right here for now - I don’t think my legs are willing to listen to me yet.”

The druid chuckled and held her closer.

A bead of sweat rolled from Halsin’s forehead, down his nose, and dropped right into Asmodea’s eye.

She blinked and rubbed at it, trying to do it quickly, without drawing any attention to it, so it wouldn’t break the mood. It wasn’t a big deal, but gods was it irritating when it happened... …Gah, she had been so close, too.

The sex was great, truly, but this - the godsdamned sweat - was an area where Astarion won by a landslide - his body being much cooler, he simply did not perspire anywhere near as much as Halsin. His body would heat up from exertion, or from absorbing the warmth of his surroundings, but it was rare for his skin to even grow damp. Meanwhile, a prolonged cuddle session with Halsin, not to mention laying with him, inevitably ended with Asmodea lying or sliding in a puddle.

Astarion didn’t mind the heat radiating from the druid, and in fact preferred to wrap himself around Halsin when sleeping, but not possessing his own body heat, this only served to cool the druid down. Asmodea could not boast the same.

A multitude of other little things that once seemed endearing had begun to grate on her nerves as well, of late.

Halsin’s insistence on the orphans being welcome to run rampant through their home, including when she just wanted some peace and quiet. The ever-present aroma of tobacco - she enjoyed it when it was fresh, but after living together it seemed to permeate everything, including all of her possessions. The silent but disapproving sadness in his eyes when he brewed her fertility suppressant teas. The way he always forgot that the automatic pens did not need to be dipped in ink, or his blatant refusal to believe that their wall clock was accurate and reliable, instead opting to judge the time of day by the position of the moon or sun.

Astarion didn’t seem to mind most of that. In fact, his connection with the druid had only grown since their little triad had become official.

At wasn’t as sexual for the two of them – that aspect had always seemed to mostly hinge on Asmodea’s presence. Rather, they took on roles not unlike an old married couple’s - not necessarily approving of, but being resigned to each other’s routines and ways, and finding a quiet comfort in each other’s company.

And a comfort there was, for all of them. Serenity in their closeness. The pleasure of long, fascinating conversations about anything and everything, held over cozy nights. The simple security of being with those who would never cause harm or disrespect (unless they were asked to very nicely, anyway). The sheer strength of sexual attraction. Even if, for Asmodea, it all had never held quite the same spark as it had with Astarion. The same desperate need to love and be loved, needing the other the way one needed air. That part of her had always been Astarion’s.

Though Astarion hadn’t voiced any complaints about the druid, he had taken to frequently grumbling about their surroundings, saying his blades and wits had been growing dull.

He had been losing his mind from boredom. Being confined within a small settlement grated on him. Though reluctantly accepted by the residents, he was viewed as an oddity and was generally avoided. In turn, he was completely disinterested in the town’s affairs and its success. The teaching had become a joyless chore. He was stagnating.

Asmodea lay contemplating all of this in his arms later that morning, once Halsin had gotten up for the day. Increasingly, these thoughts wouldn’t leave her mind. Instead, they had become a constant haunting presence.

“Is everything okay..?” came a murmur from Astarion.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s just… I think…” She hesitated, not knowing how to even begin putting any of it into words.

“You’re no longer happy,” Astarion said quietly.

“Mmhmm,” was all she managed, suddenly finding herself choked up.

Astarion went silent for a short while, before speaking.

“Is it me?” he asked. “Please just be honest.”

“What? No! It’s just… It’s the…” she paused, sighing, before words began spilling out of her. “Halsin, for instance. He’s just so damned good. And so certain in his knowledge, so set in his ways, so adamant about everything he feels needs to be done… And he’s so damned patient, too.”

“All his virtues are an absolute travesty, yes.”

“And in his patience,” Asmodea continued, “he makes me feel like I’m a child that he’s waiting to grow up. And I won’t. Because I’m not. …Does that make sense? ...Fuck, I don’t even know where I’m going with this. And then there’s all this,” she said, gesturing around them, “it was always his. It never became mine, or yours, I don’t think.”

“No,” Astarion whispered.

“I think… I think I just don’t want to be here, and as long as I stay here, I feel like no matter what I do, I’m being unfair to him, or to you, or to both. I don’t know what to do.” Her eyes watered. “I only know how not to be unfair to myself, and that means leaving,” she whispered.

“It’s not working anymore, is it, darling?” Astarion said, giving her a sad smile that made her heart clench.

“You can stay here, if you want,” she said, uselessly. “I can see how close you are.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I want to stay here, much less stay here without you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him.

“Where to, then? Back to Baldur’s Gate..?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I think that’s the best option. It’s not that far, we could always write and visit.”

“We could,” said Astarion.

“I’ve had enough of tramping around, I want a place of my own, without any screaming children. And with proper walls. Locked doors. And plumbing.”

Astarion chuckled.

“And whatever shall we do in Baldur’s Gate, besides anything we damn well please?”

“I’ve been thinking about that… We could see just how far our ‘hero’ status can take us, capitalise on that…” Asmodea said, beginning to relax.

“And then? You’re grinning like you already have a plan.”

“More a dream than a plan. Promise not to laugh?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. So I’ve always wanted to open and run my own theatre...”

~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this, check out A Night at the Inn and Bloodbang Chronicles!

Find the fic on AO3 as well.

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