#it feels like being the hunter and the buck. i have to bleed and dress myself if i want to survive the winter.

[forgetleighnot]

i hate that i have to car shop and therapist shop at the same fucking time

[2goth2moth]

What Kind of Fun do Vampires Have? (M!Vampire x M!Reader, NSFW)

Pretty sure that “willing blood bag for colony of vampires” is my new dream job. This is probably going to turn into a series, let me know if you’d be interested in me uploading versions with an AFAB reader :) 

Word Count: 2436

Includes: Blood, biting, consensual aphrodisiac (kind of), coming untouched, mild d/s overtones

Every second that you spent standing in front of the old building was another second you questioned your decision to come at all. It loomed, dark and imposing in the dusk, looking like the kind of place that would take a great deal of joy in eating up a person like you. You had gone looking for the mysterious building because of a rumour and an address handed to you by your friend, a piece of paper slipped into your hand with a wink and a quip about your “taste in lovers”. As if she had any room to judge…

But the rumours were about an entire vampire colony, and you just couldn’t help but be intrigued. Historically, vampires tended to be solitary creatures and actively hunted for their prey (and some still did), but modern colonies were said to actually keep humans in their fold, like employees.

Or pets, your brain supplied. 

A shiver went through you. It was impossible to deny that the thought was appealing. Now that you were here, though, you were starting to second-guess yourself, no matter how much the idea of being kept by a vampire colony set your nerve endings buzzing. 

“Looking for something, pretty boy?”

A silky voice sent you nearly jumping out of your skin. You whipped around to find its source, heart thumping in your chest. Behind you, a young man dressed in a dark green shirt leaned against a tree. He pushed off the trunk and started making his way towards you, each movement steeped in easy, confident grace. 

“H-hello,” you said shakily. 

“Hi,” the young man replied, voice tinged with humour. He stopped a pace away from you and smiled, a charming thing made of slightly crinkling eyes and very nicely shaped lips. “Looking for something?”

“Um...yes? I was told...I heard about a vampire colony. They live here?”

The young man’s eyes widened a touch. “Looking for a colony? You don’t look like the type to hunt monsters.”

 “I’m not. I’m here for...a different reason.” Your face heated, almost embarrassed by the implication. 

The young man raised a well-groomed eyebrow. “‘A different reason’? And what might that be?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you grumbled. 

“You don’t?” he asked. He stepped closer to you, so close that you could see each one of his fine, dark eyelashes. His lips split into a grin. Long fangs, pure white and wickedly sharp, snapped down over his teeth. “How about now?”

Your mouth went dry. “Umm…”

The young man-- the vampire-- chuckled quietly and stepped even closer, now almost chest-to-chest, and ran his pointer finger along the neckline of your sweater. You tried to look anywhere except for those gorgeous fangs in that very nice mouth, focusing instead on the small golden buttons on his shirt. They contrasted nicely with the bottle green fabric, and the first two were undone, exposing the very top of his chest. You absently thought that it was a good place to focus.

“My name is Sana, pretty boy.” His voice snapped you back to attention. “Are you going to stand out here all day, or do you want to come inside?”

“Come-- can I come in?”

He smirked at you. With practiced ease he hooked his finger into your collar and led you into the imposing building. He walked you through the doors, and into a room with a plush couch. He rounded on you, stepping close again. You swore you could feel his chest brushing up against yours through your clothes.

“Now, what’s this ‘different reason’ you’re looking for vampires?” He asked, voice saccharine-sweet and dripping with innocence. “You said you weren’t a hunter, but I can’t possibly think of why you would come looking for a colony.”

It couldn’t be more obvious that he was teasing you, that he wanted to make you spell out why you were there. 

You pushed through the embarrassment of having to explain. “I, um...my friend told me about this...your colony. And I know the rumours about how…”

“How we keep human members?”

The way he cut you off in such a matter-of-fact way made you snap your mouth shut.  

“Uh, yes?” You stammered, feeling your face heat up. “And I wanted...well, I was wondering if you needed a new...human.”

A little overwhelmed by having to admit it out loud, your eyes dropped away from Sana’s and back to the inches of skin exposed by his open buttons. It was still a very good place to look. A hand, shockingly cold in the already cool room, gently grasped your chin and tilted it up, forcing your eyes to meet his again. 

His thumb rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “And you wanted to…’apply for the position’?”

You nodded. 

Sana smiled sweetly, and turned your head back and forth with that same tender grip, looking at you with an appraising gaze. He made a quiet noise of approval. “I know that I wouldn’t be opposed to having a pretty little thing like you around the house, and I’d be shocked if anyone else would complain about it.” 

A whimper threatened to escape from your mouth at that. 

“But I’m the only one here right now. And it’s very rude to take on a human without the whole colony wanting them.”

Your heart dropped. “O-oh. Okay, I can leave then. Sorry to intrude…”

“Hey.” The hold on your chin tightened. “Who said anything about you leaving?” Sana stepped towards you, making you back up until the back of your knees hit the beautiful couch you had noticed earlier. His hands, firm and steady against you, guided you to sit down. He settled down next to you. “I can’t decide that you’re our human all by myself, but there’s no rules about us having a little fun while we wait for everyone to get back.” 

He let himself drift closer to you, and you could feel his cold presence raise goosebumps on your skin. 

“What kind of ''fun”?” You asked.

“I’m a vampire. What kind do you think?”

Those beautiful fangs flashed across your mind again. “If you want to bite me...I’d like that too.” The awkward wording sent embarrassment through you, and you dropped your gaze again.

Sana laughed, the sound clear and sweet. “I’m glad that you’d like it too.” He shifted even closer, and his voice dipped sharply, suddenly low and sultry. “Because it’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

His cold breath fanned out over your neck. You groaned under your breath, lifting your chin to expose more of the warm skin for the vampire to nose up against. The tip of a tongue flickered over your jugular. The trail of saliva tingled slightly, sending sparks into your fingertips. A thought crossed your mind. “Sana?” A quiet hum into your neck was his only response. “Is your spit an aphrodisiac?”

He pulled back from you, a thumb replacing the tongue rubbing over the side of your throat. “Kind of,” he said. “It numbs down pain and heightens pleasure, but it doesn’t mess with your head. And it doesn’t absorb through skin.” A slow drag of the pad of his thumb sent a shiver rippling down your spine. “Do you still want this?”

There was no question in your mind. “Absolutely.”

A soft kiss was pressed to the column of your throat before those fangs sunk deep into your neck. Even though you had been prepared for it, the sudden pain of it made you gasp. It lanced through you sharply before slowly melting into a gentle warmth. The feeling was comforting as it thrummed through your veins. You couldn’t help but sigh and lean closer to Sana. He worked his fangs a little deeper, and sucked lightly. 

“Ahh.” 

The moan slipped out of your mouth unbidden. The barely-there suction felt unbelievably good, and you pushed even closer to Sana. He smirked against your skin. His hand-- skin still cold to the touch-- came up to cradle your face, tugging your head backwards to expose even more of your neck. The touch made you moan again, and you could feel your cock start to harden, pleasure coiling deep in your stomach. The grip on your throat loosened and his fangs slid out of you. Something warm and wet-- probably blood, maybe spit-- dripped down before Sana’s tongue darted out to lick it up. The flicker and drag of the tongue against your skin pulled more quiet sounds of pleasure out of you. The hand not occupied with holding your head in place crept down to grasp at your hip. The chill seeped through your clothing, and the pressure made your hips buck involuntarily. A dull throb settled in around the still-bleeding bite.

“Are you okay, darling?” Sana crooned to you. 

That sinful tongue ran over the shell of your ear before his mouth lowered to suck lightly on the wound again.

“It just feels so good.” Your chest was starting to heave with heavy breaths. Every touch on your skin felt electric, like a livewire connected to each of your nerves. 

“I told you it would.”

The hand that was holding onto your head tightened suddenly and pushed you to the other side. He licked his bloodstained lips before lowering his mouth to the unmarked side of your neck. Lips, warmed to room temperature by your skin, just barely ghosted over you, raising goosebumps in their wake and sending more heat pooling in your gut. 

Your moans were breathy and muffled as you bit down hard on your lip, trying to be as quiet as possible. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this."

“Is it too much?” Sana asked, pulling away a little bit. The loss of contact made you whine and arch towards him.

“N-no,” you groaned, “I just don't think I’m going to...last much longer.”

The hand that had been gripping your hip trailed up to slip under the hem of your shirt. His fingers stroked teasing circles into your abdomen, tightening the pleasurable coil in your belly. “I didn’t expect you to.”

You didn’t have time to react before he once again sunk his teeth into your undamaged flesh, lovely mouth finding its place right where your neck met your shoulder. The pain was almost nonexistent, just sharp, deep-seated, irresistible pleasure. Sana’s soft lips suckled on your skin with hellish gentleness, pulling blood from the wound around his fangs. Your hips bucked up again, thrusting into nothing, trying desperately to get some friction against your cock. He unclamped his jaw from your shoulder, fangs slipping free. Warm blood flowed down from the bite, catching briefly at the base of your throat before sliding further down and touching your shirt. A delicate, cool finger hooked into your collar and pulled it down before it could get more stained. His tongue chased the blood back to its source, lapping it up with intoxicating deftness. Each stroke left a trail of chilled spit over your skin, cooling even further in the air of the room. Choked-out noises of ecstasy fell from your lips with every slick drag. You wriggled about, trying to twist far enough to get Sana’s leg between yours, so riled up that you would happily hump yourself to completion on the thigh of a vampire you just met. It was a hopeless pursuit, his hand returning to your hip to keep you pinned to the couch with superhuman strength. His thumb stroked the crease between your hip and thigh as his mouth went back to sucking on your neck. 

“Please…” you began begging. Your hips were stuttering up into the air and your gut tightened even more. 

Sana’s lips disconnected from your throat. He kissed the wound and then the soft skin behind your ear. You were practically drooling at this point, your hips twitching constantly into the air. All of the feelings were getting so overwhelming that you felt the slightest push in any direction would make you completely unravel. The hand that still pulled your head back tightened, fingertips digging into your skin. The one at your hip began stroking the area through your clothes, straying up under your shirt, drawing torturous loops over the side of your stomach. His mouth landed over his bite once more and he sucked hard on your neck. You could feel the moment when that lovely tongue flicked out of his mouth and swirled over your heated skin.

The coil snapped. 

You arched violently off of the couch as you climaxed with a broken, sobbing cry. Waves of impossible pleasure washed over you as you came in your pants, completely and utterly untouched. The world went fuzzy around you, warmth and ecstasy still coursing through your veins. All you could feel was the world around you melting into a syrupy haze in the aftermath of such an intense orgasm. 

Something icy-cold touched your lips, and a sweet and tangy liquid was poured into your mouth. Orange juice. You noticed a hand cradling your head, and a gentle voice speaking quietly.

“Drink this, darling. You just lost a lot of fluid.”

You opened your eyes slowly, and saw Sana sitting next to you, holding a bottle of juice to your lips. The corners of his mouth were stained red with your blood, and his skin had taken on a warm, flushed appearance that you hadn’t even noticed it was lacking. 

“How was that, sweetheart?” He asked with a voice drenched in fondness.

Taking the bottle from him, you took a few more gulps, steadily feeling much less wrung-out, though the wonderful afterglow remained. “Mmmm, it was amazing.”

Soft fingertips smoothed over the bite marks on your neck. “Are you in any pain right now?”

“None. It still feels so good.”

He chuckled, moving forward to kiss your cheek. “It will for a bit longer. They’ll heal fast, probably by tomorrow, but you’ll feel pretty achy and bruised in a few hours. I won’t need to feed for a week at least, but you shouldn’t let anyone else feed from you until the bites are healed.” He absentmindedly rubbed a finger along your earlobe. “That is assuming that you’re still interested in staying to meet the rest of the colony?”

Draining the orange juice, you put the bottle down on the floor and leaned into his touch. “Of course I am.” The statement was simple and to the point, disarming in its honesty.

The smile he gave you was pink at the edges and could have outshone the sun. 

[passable-talent]

Power Hungry [1]

“I’m writing a vampire short story but in the most homoerotic way possible “ -🦌 Roe 2k20

warnings: lots n lots of blood, a little bit of self destructive behavior in the beginning, death of an unnamed character, angst out the ass, please and thx

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | 

The way in which the world had ended didn’t particularly matter. 

Lucas Clark had spent many nights following the one that changed the world trying to figure it out, how it had all gone to shit so fast, to no avail. And what did it matter, anyway? Regardless of how it had happened, his life had changed, and it wasn’t going back. 

If he could call it a life, anymore. 

Six months ago, he’d returned from a store trip to find two vampires on the necks of his mother and father. He’d chased them off- and then received the last words of his parents before they both died in front of him.

Six months ago, he’d run to his best friends, Ben and Anthony. Ben had already lost both of his parents to cancer in his teenage years, and the two of them had been living with Anthony’s father- who’d been bitten and turned, who was begging for death. 

Six months ago, three twenty-two year olds became orphans, all in the same day. 

Six months ago began Lucas’ hell.

He spent every day staring at ceilings, at walls. The power grid was still working, but he never wanted to turn on the television- everywhere he’d see sit-coms and news reports being paid to glorify the creatures who’d destroyed the Earth. Plus, neck coverings were in style, and Lucas couldn't stand looking at those, either. 

Any humans left lived the way Lucas did, huddling in a home with two or three other survivors, never leaving, except to get food. Lucas didn’t even do that- Anthony was the hunter. He’d learned the skill from his dad, so he’d drag home an animal every few weeks, and Ben would help Lucas clean and preserve it, and they’d spend the next three weeks letting their tongues go numb to the taste of the meat. There was still food sold in stores- but to enter a public building was like opening your neck up to anybody. No one came out, or, no one came out human. 

Anthony was really the only reason that the three of them had survived. Lucas could fight, sure, and Ben had the skills to hunt if he needed to, but Anthony had the reaction. He kept them alert, imposed rules to keep them safe, ventured out into the fang-infested world and returned safe. 

It was thanks to him that they’d acquired some of the last bleach available in stores. 

TV shows had been way off when they thought about the apocalypse- clans of ‘anemic assholes’, as Ben called them, had an interest in keeping the world working, so stores still sold things, the power grid was untouched, television shows were still being made. These clans weren’t around the area where the three of them lived, though, so mostly they had to worry about the Lones, the vampires without a clan or family and the steady food source that such a family or clan would come with. It did make it somewhat easy to find a human- they were the ones that didn’t have those bite marks on their necks. 

Between Tony’s rules, and the semi-ease with which a human could spot a Lone, things weren’t extremely dire. There was a little bit of a rush on canned goods, back in May, when it all started, but now things were mostly back to normal, other than the fact that it was best never to leave the house. 

Bleach, though. Bleach was gone. 

Humans bought it for the same reason that Anthony had grabbed it up- to douse clothing in, masking any human scent sticking to them so that they could leave the house without attracting a Lone. Vampires bought it up to clean the stench of slaughter from their homes, and to keep it from humans, so that they could easily find their prey. 

They had two bottles of bleach, kept under lock and key, a key that only Ben, Anthony, and Lucas knew the location of. It was the most precious thing they owned, the most valuable. More valuable than the silver daggers each of them carried at every moment of every day. 

The stories of old were wrong. Silver didn’t kill vampires any more than iron, but it was about the statement. The promise that any of the three of them would murder any bitten that dared cross cross their path.

That silver dagger was how Lucas spent most of his time. There was no point to sleeping, so he’d stand in the living room, and practice throwing it. It wasn’t supposed to be a throwing knife, but Lucas did it anyway, taking joy in putting holes in the pristine white wall that still felt so suburban, as though it mocked him, mocked the loss of his nuclear family. 

He gave the knife a particularly forceful throw, hearing it thunk into the drywall. He was about to take it out again when he heard the door open. 

“Tony’s back,” Lucas called up the stairs to Ben, who was in the middle of a long shower. Lucas closed the door behind Anthony, who had a buck balanced over his shoulders, an arrow extending from between its eyes, bouncing over Anthony’s shoulder. It wasn’t even bleeding- Anthony’s white shirt, still stinking of bleach, hadn’t been touched by the buck’s blood. 

“Nice shot,” Lucas said, as he often did when Anthony came home, toting an animal who had died on impact. It was cute, six months ago. Now, it felt dry. 

“Can’t believe I found a deer,” Tony said, letting it thump onto the kitchen counter. “It was out on eighth street, like it didn’t think the town was dangerous anymore.”

“For him, it isn’t,” Lucas said, running his fingers down the ridges of the antlers. “He’s no longer the prey.” 

“Don’t get all poetic on me,” Tony said absent-mindedly, slightly teasingly, opening the fridge to see how much room they had. “Where’s Ben?”

“Taking a shower,” Lucas said, leaning on the table. “I don’t think he could stand to look at me anymore.”

“You and I both know that he could stare at you forever,” Tony said, and somehow, Lucas smiled. Ben was certainly special to him- and he to Ben. All three of them could see it, and had seen it since middle school. Still, they were friends. Nothing more. 

“Yeah, well. Even my pretty face gets boring when it’s all you ever look at.” 

“Tell me about it,” Tony said with a smirk, “I could stand to see a little less of ya.” He lifted his hand and shoved Lucas’ face back, giving both of them a bit of a laugh. The three of them had been best friends for twenty-two years, as long as they’d been alive. Lucas was lucky he still had them- without them, he’d have lost it long ago.

“Either way,” Tony said, turning back to the deer, “When he gets out, you two get to deal with that.” Lucas turned his gaze toward the buck, and his smile fell, as fast as it had appeared. 

“Joy,” Lucas said, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. “So we can eat nothing but deer for the next two months.” Anthony shrugged, but there was a stiffness to the movement. 

“Hey,” he said, with all the warning of a parent about to start a lecture, “if you want something else to eat, you’re welcome to try your luck out there.” Shutting down against Anthony’s tone, Lucas looked to the floor.

“Or I could starve to death,” Lucas said, digging his teeth into the inside of his lower lip, “and not have to worry about it.” 

“That’s not the kind of shit you should be saying,” Anthony told him, jaw working to manage his annoyance.

“Like you can tell me what to say?” Lucas accused, pushing back against the controlling nature that Anthony took on, sometimes too often.

“Apparently I have to, to keep you safe!”

“God, who are you, your dad?” Lucas saw it when the words hit Anthony- his dad was a sore spot, and every mention of him took Tony right back to the moment he’d had to kill his own father. 

“Sorry,” Lucas breathed, and he left the room.

He hated whenever something like this happened- and it was happening too much, recently. He was getting sick of this ‘life’, Anthony was sick of him being snappy. The only one who seemed fine was Ben, but who knows what he’s thinking about in those hour-long showers. 

The house had three bedrooms. Anthony still had the one he’d had as a child, since it felt like home. Ben had what was once the guest bedroom, which he’d taken up at sixteen after Anthony’s dad took him in. That left just the master bedroom, to Lucas- which had never been a blessing, always a curse. At first, because it just felt like Anthony’s dad. And now, because the size of it made it feel so empty, its black king-sized sheets, and high ceiling that felt so far away. 

He laid on his back on top of the sheets, looking up, dagger rolling around his fingers. He knew it was a bad idea, he shouldn’t- but the frustration got too much, and he hurled the dagger upward, into the ceiling. It stuck for just a moment, before falling back down. 

Lucas’ immediate reaction was to roll over, out of the way, before he realized he also wanted to protect the sheets from the blade. He reached out, to try to catch the knife, and got his fingers around the blade just beneath its hilt, slipping just a bit, but enough to slice open his palm, and a line through each of his fingers.

“Fuck!” He roared, blood already rolling down his palm. He jumped to his feet, his uninjured left hand shoving the dagger into its sheath on his thigh, and ran into the bathroom, Ben’s shower be damned. He rustled through the cabinet, looking for their bandages. 

“What happened?” Tony called, appearing at the doorway just a moment later. 

“I did something dumb,” Lucas hissed through gritted teeth, even the touch of the bandage to his raw flesh stinging, “Don’t worry about it.” Once he’d pulled the bandage around his palm, Lucas shoved past Anthony to close the door, letting Ben have his privacy again. 

“What the hell did you do?” Anthony asked, grabbing Lucas’ hand and yanking it in front of him so he could get a good look. Lucas hadn’t dressed the slits along his fingers. 

“It’s nothing,” Lucas said, angry at himself, not wanting to bother Tony so soon after he’d hurt him. 

“That’s not nothing, Lucas, what if it gets infected?” 

“So what if it does?” Lucas snarled, ripping his hand from Anthony’s grasp. “It’s not like it fucking matters.” 

“Lucas, what are you talking about?” Anthony said, anger and concern swirling in his tone. “We want to keep you healthy!” Lucas turned his head to the side, scrunching up his nose, slightly, trying to keep his anger at bay. But every passing day was another blow to the dam, and there wasn’t much left keeping the floodwaters at bay. 

“Why?” he shouted, clenching his hands into fists, fingernails forcing his bandages into the wound. “So I can live in this fucking house for the rest of my life? Staring at white walls, pretending that everything’s fine, hoping that someday, something will change, but knowing that nothing ever fucking will?” Lucas heard the shower shut off, and if he hadn’t regretted the outburst before, he did now- he couldn’t face Ben, not knowing that Ben had heard every word. So he shoved Anthony out of the way, and charged down the stairs. At the front door, he ignored his shoes, ignored the white scarf that stunk of bleach, and charged outside.

“Lucas!” Anthony yelled after him, but Lucas didn’t turn back. 

He kept his fist tight, knowing that it was bleeding, and to expose it to the air would be to attract every Lone in the surrounding four blocks. Thanks to the Lones, there were so few humans with blood to give left, that even existing as one was dangerous. But he needed to take a walk. 

He loved Anthony. He loved Ben. They didn’t deserve to have to deal with him- to keep him alive when he was so stupid, rash, angry. They’d be better off if he was somewhere else, but he had nowhere else to go, so he could at least give them this break, let them get along for two hours while he walked the neighborhood. 

He’d long stopped trying to keep track of the humans in the homes. He’d once been able to tell you who had been turned, and who hadn’t, but there was no way to know, anymore. He just kept his chin down, eyes on the blacktop, ignoring the freezing, November cold. His dark grey hoodie didn’t even have a pocket he could shove his hands into. 

When he looked up, he stopped dead. Standing thirty feet in front of him was a woman, her eyes deadset on him. Her cheeks were sunken in against her face, her skin deathly pale, her bones poking out against her skin.

She wasn’t just a Lone, she was starving. Which meant Lucas was in grave danger. 

He pivoted hard, taking off across the street, and with a glance over his shoulder he was terrified to realize she’d taken chase. She was faster than him, they always were, but she’d tire out faster than he would. If he could make it past this house, and into the woods behind it, he could escape into the shrubs, and she’d be too exhausted to force through them. 

She was too close for his comfort by the time he broke into the woods, but exactly as he expected, she had much more trouble pivoting around thorn bushes and jumping over fallen logs. He planned to outrun her until he could throw her trail, but suddenly he’d reached a clearing, and he looked up to a massive mansion. 

His momentum lost, he tried to pivot his direction, but she’d caught up, and he wouldn’t even make it into the woods before she caught him. So he reached to his sheath and grabbed his dagger, ignoring the sting as the metal slipped over the wounds on his fingers, and turned around to plunge it into her chest with a battle cry. 

And that’d kill anybody. 

She fell forward, and took Lucas down with her, shoving the dagger further into her chest when they impacted the ground. She didn’t move. 

Lucas took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heartbeat, and a moment later, threw the woman off of him. There was blood coating the hilt of his dagger, protruding from her chest, but he realized quickly that it was his own, from his fingers. She’d been so starved, she didn’t even bleed when she died. 

He’d hit the ground hard, and groaned against a bruised shoulder as he stood, yanking his weapon out of her. He felt just a little bit of sorrow for her, like he always did- a Lone vampire didn’t have a clan, which always meant that they were bitten, once human. It wasn’t her fault. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

-🦌 Roe

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 175

175

Laying in the hospital bed, Lance felt like he had every machine known to mankind around him. He hadn’t passed out, but he wished he had as his pants were pulled down and he was examined. Two IV lines were running through his system, drugs mixed with the blood to halt the labour. Nurses checking on him every half hour. Beside him in the visitors chair sat Shiro. Shiro explaining that he was there because Keith, Pidge and Hunk were helping the nursing staff with their systems, Keith being the muscle that Shiro couldn’t be with his busted arm and neatly dressed head-wound.

Lance wanted to reach out and comfort Shiro who must have been desperately worried about Curtis. Lance was worried and he was on the fuzzy feel good drugs to keep him weakened lest his ego have a fit. Holding Shiro’s good hand, Lance rubbed his thumb back and forth over the hunter’s knuckles. Occasionally Shiro would squeeze his hand, but they’d remained relatively quiet. Lance hoping Keith would be released and running back to him, because he was sure his boyfriend would be better comfort than him to Shiro. All he could do was offer that empty sentiment “that everything would be okay”. The words most people didn’t actually want to hear because it only served to drive the situation home harder.

Hours must have passed before finally Pidge and Hunk were allowed in. His stomach exposed, covered in a band of sensors that monitored the twins condition. Rushing over to him, Hunk hugged him tightly

“You had us worried”

“I know. I had me worried too”

“Don’t ever do that again”

“I don’t want to. I’d be quite happy restarting today”

“You and me both. Are you going to be okay?”

“They seemed to have stopped the bleeding and the labour... I’m on drugs”

His voice was slurred, and Lance was pretty sure he’d drooled on himself. Pulling back, Hunk gave him a wobbly smile

“I can tell”

“I was only talking to Keith today about I don’t think I’ve ever been high. Like high high. But I think I have”

“I think you are right now. What happened?!”

“We pulled Shiro out?”

Pidge appeared beside Hunk

“He means with Keith”

Lance blinked, Shiro sighing

“He’s busy right now with the staff”

Something went down between the three of them that Lance missed

“I need a moment”

Shiro got to his feet, Lance frowning at the man leaving. Maybe he was going to check on Keith? And give him sometime with Pidge and Hunk? Or he could have been overwhelmed because Curtis wasn’t back yet? He didn’t realise he’d said these things out loud until Hunk drew his attention again

“How do you feel?”

“Tired. Like super tired... but I can’t sleep until Keith comes back”

Next thing he knew he was being hugged by Hunk again. It took a Herculean effort to lift his hand up to his best friend’s back

“You and Pidge did so good today. I’m so proud of you two. You’re like the greatest people ever”

“We should have worked faster...”

“I’m super duper sure you worked as fast as you could, because you guys are awesome saucem”

“Dude...”

Hunk started crying. Lance understood it’d been a long arse day for his best friends

“It’s okay... I’m okay”

“We saw Keith collapse and they took you off and then they took him and we weren’t allowed to see you”

Hold up... what? Something happened to Keith? When did that happen?”

“Keith collapsed?”

“We don’t know what’s going on. No one will tell us”

Deep from his memory Lance dredged out

“He was helping you?”

“Hunk, Shiro mustn’t have told him”

Pidge’s voice was soft, nearly drowned out by the way Lance’s heart started racing. Some machine going off at his elevated heart rate

“What do you mean he collapsed?!”

“Lance...”

“No. No... where’s Keith... where’s Keith?!”

Trying to struggled against the wires, nursing staff came in. Pidge and Hunk forced away from him as the nurses words were lost to his panic. Keith hadn’t been hurt. He’d been running around all day. This had to be a mistake

“Keith?! Keith!”

“Lance, you need to calm down”

Lance tried to tear away from the nurse, but couldn’t go anywhere in his drugged up state

“Keith!”

“Lance, you’ll bring labour on again if you keep fighting. Keith isn’t here right now”

“No. No... where is he?! Where is he?!”

He needed Keith. Keith to hold his hand and listen to his drugged up babble as they waited patiently for Coran and Allura to bring Curtis back up. Something pricked his arm, Lance growling as it did. Nurses were holding down his arm as his body bucked

“Keith!”

*

Holding Keith’s hand, Lance was the first one allowed to see him. Coran had no idea the chaos unfolding above him, he and Allura had “quite a time” convincing the demon to leave the physical realm. Apparently it’d become attached to them and was very reluctant to leave, causing chaos that required some demon overload named Bob to be summoned to help deal with it. Whatever. Lance didn’t care. Sitting in the wheelchair, he held Keith’s hand. Keith had some kind of subdural haematoma. They’d rushed him into theatre. He’d over heard the nurses talking about the prognosis, Keith’s left pupil blown, and they were unsure when the bleed began.

With a bandage around his head, and a tube in his throat, they were keeping Keith sedated. Like they’d kept him sedated for a full 8 hours of forced rest. Curtis was unconscious, though Coran assured them all he’d be in tip top shape once he woke and had a good months worth of rest. Nothing had gone right. Or at least that was the feeling Lance had. Seeing Keith like this, he didn’t know how he didn’t know. Like, he was a vampire, blood was his thing, but Keith had been running around with this time bomb in his head. Popping the breaks on the wheelchair on, Krolia let out a broken “oh, god”. Lance felt the same way. By the time Coran and Allura had returned with Curtis, Pidge had contacted Krolia, who’d contacted the few Blades in town, who’d then taken over things with Pidge’s help to bring all systems back on time until Coran returned nearly 26 hours after the summoning began at close to 1am the previous morning.

Lance felt so fucking shitty. He’d been so consumed by his own personal panic he hadn’t seen the signs. Keith had been complaining of a headache for a few days, but he just thought it was not enough sleep. Not some brain bleed. The prognosis terrified him. He didn’t know if Keith was going to wake up. Or if when he did, he’d be his Keith. All he really knew was about strokes. Though along the same lines, they were very different.

“Lance, he’s going to be okay”

How could he be okay? This was in his brain! Keith went above and beyond for him, only to be still sleeping off the surgery and anaesthesia. Hooked up to IV’s and oxygen, his boyfriend would have matched the number of machines Lance had waiting for him back in his room. Coming around the chair, Krolia squatted down in front of him, taking his face in her hands. His face might be facing her, but his eyes were on Keith

“This is Keith. He’s strong. There’s no way my stubborn son is going to miss seeing his twins growing up”

Hadn’t it been enough losing Mami? Not Keith... He couldn’t lose Keith. He refused to. He was selfish and he needed him. He couldn’t go back to a world without Keith in it

“Are you in pain?”

His heart was breaking, but that wasn’t what Krolia wanted to know. Numbly he shook his head

“Okay. Coran said only a short visit today”

He knew that. Absolutely no walking around or stressful activities. Coran feared Lance’s body had started trying to absorbed the twins from the threat the demon posed to him. That rather than let the twins be food for a rampaging demon, it was better to self abort and try again later. It disgusted him that his ego could flare so much, think it so superior, then betray all that false bravado and act like the twins weren’t the shining hope in Keith’s and Lance’s future. Shiro had cried and cried when Coran was explaining things to him. With no Mami there to hold him, or hold his hand, Shiro seemed to have appointed himself the spot. His future-brother-in-law apologising, though he had no reason too. Promising he’d take care of him. It wasn’t his place to make those sorts of promises. He wasn’t Keith. He didn’t automatically “inherit” Lance like some unclaimed baggage in the case of Keith’s untimely demise.

“How are my two favourite patients doing?”

Coran had agreed to give them a little bit of time for a private visit. Lance felt he needed to rework his limit as they’d barely been in there all of thirty seconds

“I think Lance is tired. Maybe we should get him back to his room? You can come back and see Keith after you’ve had some more rest, sweetie”

Krolia could go be tired by herself. And who was this “sweetie”. Krolia didn’t call people “sweetie”! He’d be happy to be forgotten here so he could stay with Keith

“That’s to be expected. That ego of yours took quite the unexpected bruising. To think one demon could cause that much chaos. The whole floor will need to be remodelled. We’re very lucky indeed that we finally convinced it to leave, nasty little blighters. Threw the whole complex into lockdown, spread its form through the halls in some kind of temper tantrum. Impervious to normal weaponry. Don’t you worry, we gave it a good thumping”

Krolia sighed heavily at Coran. Neither of them cared about the demon not when Curtis would be okay and Keith was like this

“That’s all well and fine, but what about my son?”

“Ah! Right you are. Number two required surgery, as you know he had quite the nasty little bleed. We’ve drained the bleed”

Lance’s ego has survived the first insult without being ruffled, but having Keith not called by his name. No. No way. Was that all Keith was? A fucking agent with a number and not a name?!

“He’s not “number two”! He’s Keith. You can at least use his goddamn name!”

Snapping at Coran, Krolia was the one who ended up yelled at in the face. The woman flinching a little, but Lance sincerely didn’t give two shits. Keith was better than being called by a damn number, even if the term was meant with love and endearment. Coran cleared his throat

“You’re right, Lance. I’m sorry. Keith is a valued member of VOLTRON, and a good man. Unfortunately, during the procedure there was a moment where his brain waves dipped. We are currently monitoring it, yet we have no way of knowing how okay he will be until he wakes up. There was some swelling, normally we wouldn’t medicate him in this manner when dealing with a bleed on the brain. I should be asking you if you feel anything...”

“He feels cold”

Keith’s hand was warm in his, but that warmth didn’t seem to radiate. He didn’t feel like death. He wasn’t shrouded in the bitterly cold air stealing feeling, but some of his natural warmth seemed be missing around the edges. He wanted to crawl up into Keith’s bed and cuddle him until Keith felt better. But Coran would never allow it

“You don’t mean...”

“No. Not like that... he’s not going to die. He’s not allowed to”

“Phew! You had me worried, boy. Let’s get you back to your room. We can come back by when Keith wakes up. I’ll take you back, Krolia, you may stay with Keith if you’d like”

“Thanks, Coran. Lance, I’ll let you know the moment Keith wakes”

That’s have to do. Protesting would only lead to sedation. He didn’t want to be sedated. Being held down and forced to sleep made him feel sick to his stomach. He’d rather be awake. Awake and waiting patiently for his boyfriend like a good little vampire.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Silver and Tears || Adam and Kaden

TIMING: Takes place immediately following The Killing Moon PARTIES: @walker-journal and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Adam finds a fallen hunter and has to make a decision

Adam’s gear jostled as he made a boot camp hustle towards the distant sound of disturbance. The moon was a swollen argent sphere beyond the thick ceiling of branches, casting the forest in a wane selenic ambiance. Pools of moonlight seemed to form in the gaps between trees and cast the gore covering the busy Hunter into ugly black streaks and stray pieces of fur. Freshly cut pelts thudly wetly against the M4 carbine also slung over Adam’s shoulder. This night had been a hectic one, and Adam’s current hunt had been drawn off course by a frenzy of barking.

Cold brown eyes searched the woodland as he drew nearer, dilated in the darkness and adrenaline. At first when Adam saw the limp form and frantically barking dog he assumed that he'd come upon just one more victim of the lunar frenzy, far from the first he’d seen tonight. But as he hustled up a brush-covered ravine and vaulted over a great fallen tree, features became visible amidst a veil of blood.  

“Kaden?!”

The Walkers had raised their children to be soldiers in the Great War against the Hell dimensions. Even for superhuman soldiers wounds were inevitable, and Adam’s training kicked in, drowning all questions in the race against time that colored all First Response efforts. Adam sprinted to Kaden, eyes scanning the darkness to guard against the all-to-common tactic of wounded allies being left as bait for an ambush. However the pale moon-drenched woods were silent other than the dog’s barking and inquisitive whine as Adam drew near.

“Hey man, you still there? If you can I need you to speak to me. It’s Adam, you in there Kade?”

Keeping up similar requests for response, Adam slid out of his heavy gear and began checking Kaden’s pulse and shining a flashlight in his eyes.

Kaden woke up, blinking at the lights shining in his eyes. Great. Not dead. That was a good start. He heard Abel first, whining, upset. The voice was familiar. Hard to place for a moment, focus was still coming back slowly. And everything was still woozy. “Stop shining that fucking light,” he grumbled. He tried to piece together the events just before. Woods. Hunting. Werewolf. No, the werewolf. Then a scream. His vision still not all the way back, Kaden went to push himself up. “Where? Wolf, there was a… Scream. And… Regan.” Oh bad idea, really bad idea, world started spinning again. Lying down was better. “Walker?” he said, finally placing the voice and now that his eyes were covered in less stars and white patches. “When’d you get here?”

Though Adam Walker would have liked to have entertained surprise that Doctor Kavanagh was involved in all this somehow, at this point it would’ve been disingenuous. The wounds on Kaden were consistent with a werewolf, but ‘The Werewolf’ left him at a loss. However Kaden’s eyes were responsive and focusing on the light, which was something at least. Adam clicked off the flashlight and began tending to Kaden with a practiced motions that possessed military efficiency but probably left much to be desired in the tender beside manner department.

“Just now, was following something when I heard your dog raising hell.”

From his bags Adam retrieved a flask of a bright orange liquid that was luminous in the darkness, like a piece of warm sunset that contrasted sharply with the washed out selenic forest. He unstopped the top, filling the air with the scent of pungent spices that brought to mind rosewater and the mingled redolence of bazaars beneath the hot desert sun. “Drink up,”  Adam commanded, placing the flask to Kaden’s lips. “It’ll ease your body out of shock and clear your head some.” Adam didn't add that it would also help make his death painless should it come to that. Hopefully Kaden was not too far gone here.

For a moment, Kaden entertained the thought of going back to sleep. That sounded nice. Less pain. Less spinning. Abel’s whine jolted him back. Nope, sleep was bad. Passing out again was bad. He drank whatever the hell it was Adam gave him and it was helping. Slowly. Things were coming back. “The scream. You heard it right?” He thought about sitting up again but thought better of it. For once. His arm felt fur brush up against him and then warmth against his side. Kaden reached over to pet his dog. His very good dog who couldn’t hunt a damn thing but probably saved his life all the same. Well, hopefully. Jury was still out. “Did you see a werewolf? A black… Black with a mark.” With the hand not currently petting his dog, he drew the sign in the air. Well, tried to. And even when not half conscious, he wasn’t a great artist. “My camp. It’s.. It’s not far.”

Part way into his ministrations Adam was faced with a choice. Adam was no physician but the mauling Kaden had suffered was bad, the kind of bad where that camp would probably be where Adam dug a grave.What magic Adam knew could make anti-venoms with the proper herbs and maybe a warding seal with lots of blood and luck, but lifting Kaden’s shirt made it clear that even the military hydrophilic foam in his backpack couldn’t stop internal bleeding like this.

“Nope sorry man, didn’t hear the scream.”

Did the Banshee scream for Kaden? Wasn’t that certain death? Could Adam even prevent something like that? Should...he stop fate like that?

Adam looked from his brother Hunter, maybe fated to die, to the tiny vial in his first aid kit, the most valuable possession Adam owned. Seconds ticked by, and the window of choice narrowed.

Fuck monsters and their magic. Fae weren’t God. They were just thin-blooded mutants who licked to dress up their powers in gradiouse superstition. Fuck them. This is happening.

“Nope, killed myself a red Lycan and a white Dip, but no black wolf..”

The most expensive prescription drug on the market was Myalept at 71,301 bucks for a single dose. A vial of Phoenix Tears the size of Adam’s pinky? Well that made Myalept look like fucking lunch money.

Adam took a swath of bandages and winced only slightly as he poured his entire college tuition over the cloth. It’d been a gift from Mom, pure life taken from one of the rarest supernatural beings in the world. But if Adam let another man die when he had the power to save him. How could he ever be worthy of that gift?

Adam tore the part of Kaden’s clothes that covered the wound, and applied the world's most expensive piece of sports bandaging. He secured the moist cloth against the most lethal parts of the wound to ensure maximum regenation. He placed the empty vial in his First Aid kid without comment and shouldered his bags.

“Sure thing man,” he said, hoisting his backpack and supporting Kaden to his feet if the other Hunter let him. “Let’s get to camp”

Kaden tried to scrunch his face in confusion but it was feeling like a lot of effort just then. “Are you deaf, Walker? Scream… the, you know…” There was no way anyone in the woods that night hadn’t heard it. Wait. Regan. Did that mean? He’d initially been worried a monster was after her, that something had found her. That the werewolf might have. Then he remembered. Other hunters. Wardens. They all heard it, too. They had to. Merde. No, he wasn’t-- he couldn’t let that-- Get up. He had to get up. He couldn’t let that fucking wolf take another person away from him that he-- Why wasn’t he able to get up?

“Putain. That wolf it… it was the one. Killed my parents. I know it. Almost… had him.” The longer he lay there, the less he was able to feel. Not his toes, or the tips of his fingers brushing through his dog’s fur. Slow, delayed panic rose in him as Adam kept on doing whatever it was he was doing there to his wounds. Kaden kept running his hands through Abel’s fur, slowly, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. One deep breath. He couldn’t say what it was but guess whatever he’d given him earlier must have been kicking in. Feeling started flowing through him again. It hurt and was wobbly, but leaning on Abel and then Walker, he was up and walking. Well, hobbling.

Adam nearly tripped when Kaden explained the context of the encounter. Holy Shite. Yeah sure, family dying to monsters was an inevitability of Hunter life. Adam’s own father had sacrificed himself in a Rift event three years ago. However Adam Walker wasn’t yet a Hunter who had lived too long, and still felt the pang of empathy when Kaden spoke. He remembered the rage, loss, and helplessness he’d felt when the news had arrived from Jerusalem. Grim as it was, Dad dying as a hero during something as vast and impersonal as a demon rift was easier than something like this. Adam couldn’t imagine what’d it’d be like to lose both parents, especially to an individual person who had the fucking audacity to still be breathing after the act.

What could he say? How could he answer something like that?

“Holy fuck, well can try and track it after you get patched up,” was the best Adam could manage. He wasn’t exactly the guy people called on for comfort that wasn’t binging related, not that he imagined Kaden would exactly be receptive to a heart to heart in a time like this.

“I was in some of the old mining caves past the river,” Adam explained in a belated response to the previous line of inquiry. “A Lycan had dragged a couple into a kind of den type thing, couldn’t hear much down there.”

There was a tricky pit near a ravine, but in due course Adam supported Kadan over his shoulder towards a clearing that matched the older Hunter’s description.

“Alright, think we're almost to the camp here.”

“This time next month. Dead. He’s dead.” Or he would be. One way or another. If it was the last thing Kaden did. This was the second time Kaden almost died to that piece of filth werewolf. Walking away, no dead bodies, felt like a failure. Guess that checked out for his life on the whole as of late. The trek back to his camp felt longer than he though possible. He hadn’t strayed that far, had he? Then again the whole almost died thing probably put a damper on that speed thing.

Walker’s explanation about the scream didn’t make sense. No way a cave would dampen that sound. Kaden wasn’t sure he cared. And he didn’t think it was wise to alert another hunter to the fact there was a banshee in the woods. Especially if that banshee was who he was sure it was. Best keep that close to his chest. Just in case. “Strange.You didn’t hear it. Sounded like a monster. Maybe it was just the wolf and the blood loss thing fucking with my head.”

The camp came into view and a wave of relief washed over him. Only, Kaden figured it might be a bad idea to stay there outside overnight on a full moon by himself while injured. Putain. “Thanks, Walker. For, you know.” Saving his fucking life. “You’re a better hunter than I am. Pretty fucking sure.” For a lot of reasons. He went to take a seat in the chair he’d brought with him, placed by his makeshift fire pit. “Bad idea to stay here, right? Like this?” He winced at the thought of moving more. He just wanted to curl up in his sleeping bag and go to bed. “Too much trouble to ask for a ride back?”

“Maybe,” Adam said noncommittally. However Kaden seemed to buy his lie or have other things like mind-boggling pain to worry about. The truth of why he hadn’t heard the scream was a kettle of fish he wasn’t ready to go into right now. Maybe when comrades weren’t two steps from death.

Kaden got seated and Adam began unpacking some things, offering some water Kaden’s way. “No I’m not,” Adam said, a knife twisting in his gut at the memory of when he’d stopped being a Hunter and fallen to be no better then the things he hunted. “You’d do the same for me. We’re just brothers serving humanity,” Adam said, reiterating the abnegation-focused philosophy he’d been raised with. Only the cause mattered. Hunters were born to be unseen servants and protectors to humans. Glory and status were immaterial.

“I’m not leaving you to go get the car, because we don’t know if ...It..or some packmates are still out there,” Adam said. “I’m gonna call Harper and Sanchez,” he continued, flipping through his phone. “They can bring their pick-up and we’ll get you a doc.”

“Rest up Kade, you’ve seen him now. The fucker’s gonna wish he finished the job.”

[alice1290]

Read All About It - An Ace/OC fanfic - Chapter 7

No Kinktober prompt today as yesterday was hubby’s birthday *yay for him turning 30 first!* so instead I’ll treat you with Chapter 7 of RAAI. We’re almost caught up to where I am on AO3. 

Lemon warning... Its somewhere below the cut ;) 

Chapter 7

Ashina skimmed her fingers up and down Ace’s bicep. The tattoo had healed nicely and the dark ink stood out against his skin. He shivered under her touch as she traced the curve of the S. His tribute for Sabo. The boys teased him for not being able to spell his own name, but Ashina knew. She knew exactly why the tattoo was spelled A-S-C-E. It was beautiful, and she longed for the day when Sabo revealed himself to be alive. She wanted Ace to know, but couldn’t betray Sabo’s confidence to keep the secret.

Ace’s fingers danced along her ribs and she jerked, trying to get away from his tickling touch. He couldn’t help but laugh, as he realized she was ticklish. Ace flipped them over, pinning her down with his hips.

“Ace!”

He grinned down at her, his fingers still dancing across her ribs. He held her beneath him, even as she struggled to get away.

“You’re going to squirm your way right off the bed.” Ace laughed as she bucked harder beneath him, still unable to break free of his tortuous fingers. Ashina wiggled again and Ace rocked his hips into hers. “Do that again and you’ll start something else.”

Ashina relaxed with a sigh when his fingers finally stopped moving over her skin. Her green eyes were bright as she smiled up at him. “Oh really?”

Ace dipped his head down to brush his lips against hers.

“Captain! Ashina!”

Ashina growled, making Ace chuckle. He kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her lips once more. “We didn’t even take any clothes off, you can’t be that mad.”

Ashina grinned and went to retort when Saber yelled again.

“You’ve got to see this!”

She sighed and shoved on his shoulder. “Well, let’s go see what all the ruckus is about this time.”

Ace pulled her up with him and they strolled out onto the main deck.

“What’s so important that we have to see?” Ace asked.

“Missus has a bounty!”

“No way!” Ashina screamed.

Deuce held out the bounty poster. “Sorry, Missus, the mail bird just dropped it off with the paper.”

Ashina snatched the paper from his outstretched hand and stared down at the picture. One of the marines somehow managed to snap a good photo of her during their last battle. “Damn it.”

Ace chuckled over her shoulder. “Forty million berry is a lot for a first bounty. It’s a good picture of you.”

“Missus Spade? Really? The Marines couldn’t think of anything better?”

“We’ll have to let Revolutionary Spade slip, or just Ashina,” Ace teased her. His lips brushed against her ear. “Maybe Fire Fist’s Lover?”

She elbowed him in the ribs, making him double over, as she thrust the bounty poster into Deuce’s chest. “Absolutely absurd,” she commented, before walking back into the cabin and slamming the door.

The rest of the crew, Ace included, burst into laughter.

.

.

.

It was late in the evening and Ashina was tired. Her head hurt, and the cramps, the same ones that had been coming and going all day, were nonstop now. She quickly ran a brush through her hair and then pulled off all her clothes except her panties. Forgoing a nightgown, she pulled one of Ace’s t-shirts over her head. It swamped her, but she didn’t care as she padded over to the bed.

Ace entered the room as she moved to sit down. She caught the smirk that stretched across his lips as he eyed her attire.

“Better add theft to your bounty poster,” he teased, closing the distance between them. His hand skimmed her bare thigh and he grinned. “I think I like you in my shirt better, though.”

Ashina smiled, but didn’t reply. His touch was warm and the heat felt good on her skin. Ace ventured higher, fingers brushing the apex of her thighs and she pulled back.

“Ace, we can’t.”

A look of shock mixed with a bit of hurt flashed across his features, before his brows scrunched together in confusion. She never denied him before and she knew he was worried.

“Why? Did I do… are you upset with me?”

Ever the man to blame himself, Ashina gave him a reassuring smile. “No, Ace, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m on my period. We can’t have sex.”

“Why?”

Ashina giggled softly at his innocence and lack of understanding.

“I’m bleeding, Ace.”

His eyes widened and searched her body for any sign of injury. His hands followed his eyes but he pulled back seconds later with a questioning gaze.

“You’re not injured.”

Ashina laughed at that moment. “Ace, has no one ever given you the talk about the birds and the bees?”

“What do birds and bees have anything to do with you bleeding?”

“It’s an expression,” she said between giggles. “Surely someone gave you the sex talk when you hit puberty? Penises and vaginas and sex?”

Ace blushed furiously. “Gramps said some things about boys, but he didn’t talk about girls. Other than sex can cause babies. Where and why are you bleeding, Ashina?”

“Oh jeez.” Ashina took a deep breath. “Ace… sex can lead to babies because of a woman’s cycle. If I don’t get pregnant, which I’m not, then once a month for about a week a woman will menstruate, or bleed. It comes from my uterus, but well... god this is a bit embarrassing… it comes out of my vagina. It’s the female body’s nice fuck you to itself for not having a baby. Technically, I guess we could still have sex, there’s nothing preventing that per say, but I’m bleeding and it’s messy.”

“Oh… so you’re bleeding now… does it hurt?”

“Not really. Sometimes. Tonight is one of those nights. It’s just muscle cramps.”

Ace frowned and pulled her carefully onto his lap. Ashina curled up against his chest and rested her head against his shoulder. Ace moved his hand to press against her lower abdomen. She hummed in delight at the heat and sighed. “Your warmth helps the cramps. It’s relaxing.”

Ace shifted them instantly so he leaned against the headboard of the bed, careful not to jostle her too much. He ramped up his temperature and Ashina hummed low in her throat.

His lips pressed against the top of her head, and she started to drift off in his arms. His next words brought her out of her half-asleep state and made her giggle, “So, what about sex in the shower?”

.

.

.

The sun was beginning to set as Ace boarded the Spadille. He and Deuce heard talks of a fight between a group of bounty hunters and a young woman on their way back. Ashina went off on her own again and Ace was worried sick that something had happened to her.

He didn’t spot her on deck and shouted at Pinnacle. “You seen Ashina?”

“Missus is in the cabin, Captain. She got back a little while ago.”

Ace let out a sigh of relief and nodded to Deuce. “Get ready to set sail.”

Deuce nodded in understanding as Ace headed for the cabin. He swung open the door to see Ashina’s bare back to him, her hair pulled over her right shoulder. A large bandage was over her left shoulder blade. Why hadn’t Pinnacle mentioned she was hurt?

He closed the door as he asked, “What happened?” He came forward quickly as she turned slightly toward him. Ace gingerly touched her shoulder. “I heard there was a group of bounty hunters.”

“That’s not from them. They were easy to get rid of, didn’t get a scratch on me,” Ashina said with a proud smirk. She pointed to the bandage. “This was before I ran into the bounty hunters.”

Before he could question her again, Ashina pulled back the bandage and revealed the fresh tattoo. Ace stared at the spade on her skin. The bottom of the spade was inked in yellow and red flames that curved into black.

“Ashina,” he breathed.  

She pressed the bandage carefully back into place and turned to face him. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t ask you, but…”

Ace silenced her with his mouth, molding his lips to hers as his arms wrapped around her waist. She let out a gasp and then melted in his embrace. Ace tightened his hold around her as he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of her slender, strong body against his.

He pulled away first and trailed his lips across her jaw to her ear. He nipped the lobe gently with his teeth and then whispered, “It’s perfect.”

.

.

.

Ashina peeled off the dress she was wearing and let it fall to the floor along with her under garments. The climate changes of the Grand Line were incredible, and the room was warm even without Ace’s added body heat. She walked over to the tall mirror that leaned against the wall near the desk. She stared at her reflection as she undid the braids in her hair. She grabbed the brush from the lefthand drawer, the one she had taken over, and pulled it through her long tresses. Along with the mirror, Ace let her hang the beautiful woven tapestry on the wall behind the bed, and several sheer, colorful sheets of fabric draped from the ceiling, creating a hazy canopy, and the illusion of privacy around the bed.

Due to the heat Ashina decided to forgo one of her nightgowns and pulled her hair up into a knot at the top of her head, securing it with a piece of black ribbon.

Ace gave an appreciative hum as he stepped into the room, shutting the door quickly behind him. Ashina turned her head and grinned at him, heading for their bed. He met her near the foot of the bed, looping an arm around her waist and dragging her into his chest.

Ace kissed her hard and then tossed her on the bed. She pulled her knees up to plant her feet on the edge of the bed and slid her fingers down to touch herself. Ashina watched with eager eyes as Acec quickly tugged his belt open. He pushed his shorts off as he toed off his boots. He yanked his shirt off and tossed his hat on the desk. She felt a blush warm her skin as his eyes slid over every inch of her body.

He surprised her when he knelt in front of her. His hands slid to her thighs and his fingers glided up to her knees, pushing them farther apart.

“Move your hand,” he ordered.

Ashina complied, propping up on her elbows to watch him. Ace kissed the smooth skin of her thigh and continued to pepper wet open-mouth kisses along her skin. He licked the crease of her thigh and she jerked against him. Ace slid his hands from behind her knees back down her smooth skin. He slid one around to her hip and he used the fingertips of the other to caress her center.

He gave her a boyish grin, a soft blush tinting his cheeks, and she was surprised at the fleeting moment of uncertainty in his expression. He was normally so confident. “Can I try something?” he asked.

Ashina returned his smile and nodded eagerly. They’d had plenty of sex over the course of the months together, but he’d never done what she thought he was about to try. No one had ever taken her this way before.

She let out a soft moan and closed her eyes as his tongue darted out to taste where his fingers had just touched. “Ace,” she moaned.

Ace swiped from her entrance to her clit with the flat of his tongue, and she arched her back at the sensation. His tongue darted inside her and Ashina gasped. He swiped his tongue up to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves and Ashina slid her fingers through his hair. His moan echoed with her cry of pleasure. Her nails scratched his scalp, as he slid two fingers inside her wet heat.

“Fuck, Ace,” she gasped, trying to grind against him, to find more friction, but his hand on her hip held her tightly in place.

His tongue flicked over her sensitive skin faster and then he sucked hard, driving his fingers inside her and stroking that spot deep within her. Ashina fell back against the bed, her eyes squeezed shut, as she panted hard. She was so close and the building, delicious heat inside her was driving her wild as Ace continued to slide his tongue over her sensitive skin. His fingers stroked inside her again and she screamed.

His moan sent vibrations through her core as she plummeted over the edge of ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair and her back arched off the bed. His name fell from her lips over and over again as his mouth and fingers worked together.

She was still coming down from the waves of her orgasm when Ace withdrew his fingers. He was gone for a split second, the sound of the scrape of the desk drawer opening and closing a tell to where he’d gone. They were going to have to move the condoms closer to the bed, she thought. Then she felt his hands on her and she opened her eyes in time to see him between her thighs. He aligned himself at her entrance and pressed forward. She moaned, closing her eyes again as he buried himself inside her.

Ace slid his hands down her legs to grip her hips. He slid out slowly and then sunk back in. Her eyes met his and she lost herself in the gray depths for a moment. Ashina reached up to touch his chest as she rolled her hips to meet his slow thrust. She squealed and giggled as he maneuvered her higher onto the bed.

Ace pressed deep inside her and covered her body with his. His lips slanted over hers, and Ashina deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth. His chin was still damp with her fluids and she moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue. Their hips met and Ace grunted as she ground hard against his pelvic bone.

“Ashina,” he moaned, his voice husky, as he broke away from their kiss. His lips found her neck as he let his head drop.

She touched him everywhere her hands could reach. She couldn’t get enough of the feel of his warm skin and the hard muscles, or the way they bunched and jumped under her touch. Her nails scratched his shoulders and she let out a shriek as he pinched her nipple. Ashina arched into his touch, moaning loudly.

“Ashina… I can’t… I’m going to come.”

Ashina could hear the strain in his voice as he moaned into the curve of her shoulder. She rolled her hips, grinding against him, and Ace hit a spot deep inside her. They both moaned and Ace jerked his hips hard, picking up speed, before he let out a deeper groan of pleasure. He slowed and then stilled above her.

Ashina sighed in pleasure as his lips left a trail up her neck. He slanted his mouth over hers in a sweet kiss before pulling away and hopping up from the bed. Ashina grumbled at the loss of his warmth, but took the chance to move onto her side of the bed.

Ace came back with a towel in hand and gently wiped away the fluids between her thighs. He tossed the towel toward the pile of dirty laundry and climbed into the bed. Stretching out beside Ashina, he held out his arm so she could scoot closer. She curled against his side, her naked body pressed against his, and she tilted her head so her lips brushed his jaw.

Laying her head on his chest, Ashina smiled as her fingers traced lazy circles across his abs. Ace’s hand trailed down her spine and cupped her backside. His lips pressed against her head and she smiled.

“Are we ever going to reach land again?” she asked suddenly, making him laugh.

“We haven’t been at sea that long.”

“It’s been almost two weeks.”

“We’re still going the same direction as the log pose is pointing. We’ll reach the next island soon.”

[talldarkandroguesome]

15th of Evening Star, Loredas

I heard a woman’s voice calling to me not long after dark.

It did not sound like my Prince, but since I found the Earl in such a manner, I thought perhaps I might see who was calling to me. 

I headed to the tavern to find the source, but I did not find anyone that fit the type for being one of my Prince’s followers.

Of course, as soon as I walked in, there was Pip. She gleefully threw her arms around my neck and hoped into my arms, nuzzling my neck.

I am used to her affections, but that was even more than usual. I wondered if perhaps that meant she was falling for me and I should try and explain to her that I thought of this as a fun, but ultimately temporary arrangement.

I had little chance however. She told me how delighted she was I had come back. I told her that she had asked me to see her again. Pip grinned and I was suddenly aware of just how sharp her teeth were, it was little wonder she always ended up leaving so many marks about my body. I don’t expect she always meant to draw so much blood as she did, but if you are prone to biting to begin with and have a mouth full of pointed teeth, it becomes difficult not to end up making your partner bleed.

I tried to look around subtly for any signs that the Earl, his spiderlings, or some other follower of my Prince might be there, but it only raised Pip’s suspicions. She asked me if I was looking for someone or if I had come to the bar for something else.

I told her I hadn’t, that I just felt compelled to come and see her, nothing more.

She bought it well enough. And soon we were back to her room again. This time she had bought bottles for us to share. 

And I’m not sure what it was, but as I looked at her, dressed in her thin leather undergarments, sipping from a bottle of the thick, nearly black-red Bosmeri meat wine, I felt my heart beating faster. Time almost seemed to slow as she leaned towards me. 

I do not know what changed in that moment, but I think some part of me was starting to fall for her.

I did not move, captivated by her beauty like a buck before a hunter’s arrow. 

She told me she wanted me to come back every day so she can see me. That she longs to feel the touch of my hand and the force of my passion. 

How can I say no? With a face like hers and a voice that seems to caress my very soul, I would fall to me knees at her every whim.

To be honest, I’m not even entirely sure what came to pass during the whole of the night. I know that at some point we had left and gone out into the cool night, under the light of the moons. 

There was some sort of tussle with a mer on the road. Pip says that he tried to go for her purse and she turned a blade on him. I wasn’t about to let anything happen to her though, as soon as I saw her pulling a weapon, I was on his back, pulling him off of her. 

She cried out and I slit his throat.

I realized that this might be a harsh sight for those not used to it. Though Bosmeri culture is much more likely for the average person to see what another person’s insides look like. 

Pip seemed almost dazed, staring at me dumbstruck. It had simply been an automatic reaction. I did not want any harm to come to her. I told her as much. That I feared what a robber might have tried and that when I heard her yell I had feared for her safety.

She threw her arms around me and thanked me for saving her. She said that there was another one she saw running off in the distance and asked me to check it out.

I told her I would be right back and went in the direction she pointed.

I searched around for a long time, but found no sign another had been there. No other footprints in the soft ground, despite this morning’s rain. No broken bush limbs or signs of fleeing. Either the person was a spy or Pip had misheard or mis-seen in her panic. It is not unusual for those in peril to have their minds give weight to fears.

I returned and to tell her the news that she was safe and saw her brushing her mouth hastily. I smiled and told her that I knew that it was part of her culture to consume the flesh of their enemies and offered to bring the body someplace for her to cook it so she did not have to risk illness from the mer. 

She told me she would field dress the body, should I bring something to carry the meat back to her room. I went into the nearby trees and began cutting young limbs to fashion a quick box to carry things in. Tied with some vines and lined with the villain's own cloak, Pip was able to put all the parts she thought she could suitably eat into it. 

I admit, it did not bother my stomach half as bad as normal in this situation. Perhaps because I had the adrenaline coursing through my body. Or maybe it had to do with the alcohol. I know not.

I left Pip to return to the room as I disposed of the rest of the remains into the trees. It will be a great feast for the animals. And one less criminal on the streets. May Mephala take his soul.

When I arrived to Pip’s place, she already had a fire going and a pan with one of the steaks roasting. The smell was sickening.

Pip threw herself into my arms and began to kiss me all over. She told me she was impressed with my bravery and asked if I would not stay with her through the night, just in case the other person came back. 

I reassured her that there was no one else, but that I would still stay with her, just in case. I drank and played her soothing tunes on a harp that had been hanging on the wall. She cooked and ate her fill, then bade me come and hold her in bed until morning.

In the light of day, the whole night seems very strange. It was very different from when Nabine and I would smite the wicked together. Perhaps it is just that Pip and I have a different sort of energy. 

She asked me if I would not return the next day and see her. I promised that I would.

For once, I almost hope that the Earl does not require me for anything.

[thewondersofsmut]

You Are Home

Summary: Damon had found his home but there was never a happy ending. What he once lost can never be replaced or so he thought.

Pairings: Damon x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 3985

It felt weird to write something this long but I hope you guys like this story as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for your continual support and patience, guys!

(gifs not mine, credits to owners)

Parties left and right, music played all damn night. There wasn't a dull day when you moved to the city. You were a pretty little thing who socialized with a lot of people, knew the commoners, and met the newcomers. 1920's was the glitz, glamour, and jazz. In your personal taste, you loved the 20's as much as you loved being the King's little princess, you being you, didn't really like non-extravagant lifestyle.

Your curls were done and your lipstick glimmering in red, you were ready to get the night started once again. You were the guest of the night for this new bar that opened in the city. You, of course, performed on the little stage, making yourself more known. After your little performance, you sat by the bar, signaling for a small drink. It wasn't uncommon for men to sit next to you but this one man caught your eye. He had a small smirk on, the blues eyes you've seen, and raven hair that looked mysterious. It all started that night.

"Does the lady want another drink?" He asked. You smiled and nodded. He signaled the bartender and he poured you one and the stranger. "My name is Damon Salvatore, and you?" He asked, asking for your hand. "(Y/n) (y/l/n)." You said and giggled, placing your hand in his. He gave a sweet kiss on your knuckles. "I haven't seen you around town, what brought you in this sleepless town?" You asked. "Passed by, hoping to find something fun to do." He answered, looking straight in your eyes. "Well I think you're in the right place." You said giggling, you were into him.

Damon found this girl not only beautiful but ravishing enough to bleed you dry for his meal of the night. After a few drinks and a little more conversations, he leaned closer to you, letting you inhale his intoxicating scent. "Want to find a much private place?" He asked and you giggled, taking his hand for the offer. You were excited to get a good looking on for dinner. You followed him outside, just behind the bar and he held your waist, pinning you to the wall. His lips attached to yours and your hands landed on his neck, pulling him close.

He pulled away and you saw it, his vampire face. You tensed but you were laughing inside and let him bite your neck but. Playful you came out to play and just as he bit into your neck, you moaned, you drew out your fangs and bit into his neck. Damon immediately pulled away and sped far across you. With blood dripping down the side of your lips, you smiled and chuckled. His eyes widened and watched the wound on your neck heal. "You're a vampire?!" He asked. "I guess we found each other good enough to eat." You said in a sultry voice. You sped, pinning him to the wall this time and attaching your lips to his.

He flipped you two, holding your hands above your head as his kisses dropped to tour jaw and to your neck. You moaned and when he got back to your lips, he smirked. "You're as good as you look like, he said and held you close and sped you two back to apartment. The moment the door banged close, hands went to each others bodies, cupping, squeezing, and feeling. You unbuttoned his shirt and pants as he undid your dress behind you, pulling the one pin that held your hair up, making it flow down your back as your dress hit the floor. You two were half naked when you reached the bed.

He laid you in bed and kissed down your naked body, your hand in his hair, pulling as you felt pleasure. He reached your core and bucked your hips up. He kissed back up your body and then your lips. "You're a naughty little vampire." He said and you giggled. You flipped you both and you straddled him, pushing yourself down his length, moaning with your eyes closed. You two were elevated with the small amount of blood you two shared and induced with pleasure. You ground yourself to him and he bucked his hips up, pushing you forward. He flipped you two again, pushing your arms up, holding them above your head as he fucked your relentless.

Pleasure build and he had you coming apart one right after the other, your moans and small screams filling the room. He groaned, leaning down to kiss you and letting go of your hands from captivity. Your hands went to his back, your nails digging into his skin until it was decorated with red lines as he left deep kisses in the expanse of your neck, glad that they will heal quicker than the normal human. You pulled his head up, kissing him pleasurably that he moaned against your lips. "Vampire sex is always so much better." He breathed and you chuckled, agreeing as he thrusted into you deep, coming apart inside of you.

He pulled out and reached for a cloth to clean off and then he laid on his back, breathing heavily. "One of the best I've had in quite some time, if I may say so." You said. You heard him chuckle and you looked over at him to see him looking at you. "This city don't seem so bad at all. I think I found my home." He said, looking straight into his eyes and basically went over you, attaching his lips against yours with a sex inviting kiss to which you were more than willing to reciprocate, continuing on for the night and the days to come.

That was a 5 years ago.

Damon and you are now together, traveling around the nearby cities, going to bar by bar, partying like never before but two landed in the outskirts of the city, in a beautiful house. All that soon ended when hunters arrived. They searched home by home, bar by bar, looking for all the vampires they can kill. "(Y/n), we have to run now!" Damon exclaimed, pulling you by your hand. "I am not leaving without a fight, Damon, this is our home!" You screamed. "We can't stay! (Y/n), listen to me, anywhere is home with you and I am not leaving you behind!" He said. "We have to go." He softly said, caressing your hand.

Tears streamed down your eyes and just as you nodded, a big explosion occurred, separating you and Damon. Your eyes widened as you saw him too far from you. You felt weak with the beams covering half your body. "(Y/n)!" Damon tried to get up but the flames were everywhere, the smoke was too much. "You gotta run, Damon. I'm okay, save yourself." You said. "No, no, I will save you." He said, getting up, regaining his strength just for you.

He saw 5 people rampage through the fire, stakes in their hands and he searched for you through the smoke. He finally met your eyes and you looked straight at him, body carried by the hunters. "Run, Damon.. I love you." Damon froze, shaking his head. "Run.." "I'm so sorry, (y/n), I love you too.." He said and did just as you asked.

2010

Damon was back in his reckless ways, terrorizing his little brother and his little friends. Of course he thinks differently of Elena, especially being the doppelganger of Katherine. Life back in Mystic Falls wasn't too bad but that day he hated the most arrived, he was visibly down, it even concerned Stefan. He didn't know why all of the sudden Damon was drinking sorrows away and when he'd ask Damon, he would just reply, 'There's always something to be sad about." Damon thought it was a good idea, after decades, to just visit that place where you two had separated, where you died, is what he liked to remind himself.

June 23 was the day the hunters have taken you and killed you, the day he regret leaving you, the day his life once again fell apart, killing hundreds without care and humanity.

The place looked better than before but somehow it was still worse than before it all even started. There was a built Victorian style home that stood above where he and you used to live but something felt a little odd to him as he walked closer to the house. It was secluded, a home amongst the fields far from the city. He can smell all sorts, from blood to what seemed to be dead bodies, and vervain.

He knitted his eyebrows and opened the door. It was packed with weapons, stakes, and he can now strongly smell the vervain in every corner of the house. He sobered himself up and carefully searched the house of anyone present. He slowly came down the basement and there he saw a pile of dead bodies, dried of blood, right against a small cell.

He slowly walked towards it and moved the pile of decaying, old bodies to look at whatever was inside that cell that made the house abandoned and secluded.

"Hello?" He asked. He waited for the person to reply but it was silent. The rays of the sun from the small window made it hard to see the corners where darkness was evident. For the first time in a long time, he was scared. His heart ache of the memories this place held but it scared him to know that this house alone, his house, was still a place for vampires and hunters. He forcefully opened the cell door and walked inside, gulping.

There was a body, he assumed was a vampire, clearly desiccating. He listened to signs of moving but the body must have been long desiccated. He looked at the pile of bodies, the way they dressed and it surely wasn't from today. This house was long forgotten by other hunters, or was avoided because of whoever this person was. He moved the body, trying to look at the face but it wasn't easily recognizable but what shocked Damon was the necklace the person wore.

His eyes widened and searched the fingers, there was no sign of any lapiz lazuli ring. He wrapped the body in whatever cloth he can find and he sped out of the house quickly to his car, driving 100 going back home, looking behind him making sure you were still alive.

It wasn't long until the sun set and his home was visible. He can hear people inside his house and without care, he carried the wrapped body inside and into the living room couch. "What the hell, Damon?" Elena screamed. "Shut up." He muttered. "What did you do, brother?" Stefan asked. He turned to them. "Can you two just leave?" He calmly yet strongly asked. "What's wrong with you, Damon, and what is that?" Elena asked. "Nothing for you to concern. Don't touch her." He said and sped to go get blood bags.

"Her?" Elena asked Stefan. "I–I don't know.." He replied.

Damon growled with the sight of them still there but he carefully unwrapped the body and Elena gasped. Stefan knitted his eyebrows as he watched Damon carefully pour blood into the girl's mouth. He saw the care in his actions and he had to know who this girl was. They both watched Damon trying to bring back the life of this vampire. Countless of bags were used and Damon was starting to worry but with the 8th bag, the color in your body started to go back.

Your face was more radiant than ever and Damon's heart broke knowing you were alive all alone, making him feel more guilt. He looked all over your face, how pick your lips were, how soft your hair felt as he caressed it. "Damon, who is she?" Stefan broke the small moment Damon was having. Damon turned to him with the realest soft smile he never saw since they were humans. "The love of my life." Damon replied quietly, hi blue eyes brimmed with tears.

He turned back to you, caressing your face, holding your hand, waiting for you to gasp back to life. Damon sped to his room rampaging through his things until he found the ring he promised to give you but never did. "Who is she, Damon?" Stefan asked and Damon told them of his memories of you and him, and the little peace you two had before the tragic day.

"I can never take off the guilt I have when I left her that night. I'll never forgive myself for not looking for her." Damon said and when he turned to your body, you gasped, opening your eyes and breathing heavily. Damon was quick to be at your side and helped you sit up. You were disoriented and you panicked, not knowing where you were but when you looked up, you saw the face you thought you'd never see. "Damon?" Your voice was soft but it hurt to speak.

A tear slid down his face in the sight of you, in hearing your voice. You smiled and cupped his cheek. "Don't cry, you're supposed to be big bad." You softly joked. Damon chuckled and kissed your forehead. "You might need this." Damon said, handing her a blood bag. "In a bag?" You asked. You then looked around you to see other people in a room.

"Where am I?" You asked Damon. "You're in Mystic Falls." He answered. "I think the right question is, when am I at?" You asked. Damon smiled softly. "It's 2010." He said and your eyes widened. You breathed out heavily. "I've been dead for almost 3 decades." You said and that broke his heart. "I am so sorry for not looking for you." Damon said, leaning his forehead against yours. "I told you to run." You said smiling.

You looked behind him to see a man and woman. "Who are they?" You asked. Damon sat beside you and cleared his throat. "Do you remember me telling you about my brother, Stefan?" He asked and you nodded. "That's him, that's my little brother." Stefan went near and offered a hand. You took it and smiled. "This is his girlfriend, Elena." You looked at her face and visibly tense. You sped far away from her. "Are you kidding me, that's Katherine!" You said. Damon stood and Stefan looked at you.

"You knew Katherine?" Stefan asked. "If you're old enough, you'd know that bitch." You said and glared at this 'Elena', who visibly looked scared. Damon sped to you and calmed you down. "Believe me, this is not Katherine. This is her doppelganger, Elena is human." Damon assured. You sped in front of her and looked at her, to which Elena gasped. "I'm sorry, I–I just thought you were her. I mean, you do look like her, a lot." You said and walked back to Damon.

"I think you should rest, (y/n)." Damon said, walking to you. "I don't want to rest now, I've been gone for 30 years, Damon. Teach me, show me what I've missed." You said and he smiled, nodding. "This is for you." He said and lifted your hand up to slip a ring into your ring finger. It was a daylight ring, somewhat similar to what you owned before. "Thank you, Damon." You said and pecked his cheek.

"We should leave you two alone to catch up." Elena said and took Stefan's hand. "Yeah." Stefan agreed. "It's nice meeting you two." You said and they left.

Damon took you to his room for you to freshen up, getting a bath ready. "What did they do to you?" He asked, watching you strip off the clothes you were wearing. He entered the tub and you following him after, soaking your bodies in hot and soapy water. You leaned against him and he massaged your arms.

"After the fire, when they took me, I thought they were going to kill me. But after months of going from place to place, I saw they brought me back to our house, fully built, and they kept me inside that cell for I don't know how long. They didn't feed me, they tortured me into telling me where were the vampires I knew. I couldn't escape, I was vervained, weakened, exposed in the sun rays without my ring, they slowly killed me. The bars were soaked with vervain weakening me every time I tried to escape."

"They only way I thought I can escape was by killing them. Every time one came to the door I would bleed them dry and try to open the bars but I didn't know why I couldn't. When I killed most that I can, they tried to shoot me but I was stronger than that. I've lived for centuries, Damon. I cant withstand wooden bullets. After that night, no one ever came, the vervain was still strong and I was weakening, until I started to desiccate."

He sighed. "If only I looked for you after that, we could've been together." He said. "It wasn't your fault, Damon. Don't blame yourself." You said, looking at him. "I flipped my humanity the moment I ran, I killed a lot of people. It was for sport more than feeding." He said. "I would too if I was in your position." You said.

"I love you so much, (y/n), I'm so happy to have found you." Damon said, kissing your shoulder. "I'm glad you found me, Damon." You replied, proceeding to ask him questions about the new decade.

It was hard to learn but here you were, on your phone while driving. "You know, you're not allowed to do that." Damon said, chuckling. "Yeah, but I got this." You said smiling at him. "Where are we going anyway?" He asked. "Somewhere I want to see." You answered. "And how do you even know how to get there?" He asked you. "Um memory..?" "Really, princess?" He asked with an eyebrow raised. "I'm kidding. I used google maps!" You proudly said, making him laugh. "You're such a dork, (y/n)." He said, shaking his head. "I'm your dork." You replied. He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles.

You drove for hours and when Damon realized where you two were going, he tensed. "Stop the car, (y/n)." He ordered. You looked at him and knitted your eyebrows. "No." You said, continuing to drive. "I said stop the goddamn car." He said and you applied the brakes, harder than you should. "What the hell is your problem, Damon?" You asked. "Why are we going here?" He asked, your eyes directly meeting his'. "I meed to see what happened." You said, stepping on the gas. "(Y/n), I swear to god, if you don't stop the car–" "You'll what? Lock me in my room?" You asked, jaw clenching as you pulled over the side of the road.

Damon softened and he cupped your cheek, prompting you to look at him. "I love you, but I'm not letting you see the hell you were just in." He said. "It was our home, Damon." You argued. "That night they took you away from me was the night they took our house. We can't take it back anymore, we can't remove all the bad memories it came with, all the pain and suffering." He answered.

Damon sighed in defeat as he stood in front of the main door he had kicked just a weekbefore. You clenched your jaw, it looked awful, run down, it was indeed abandoned. You sped downstairs to what you assumed was where you were locked up. You eyed the pile of bodies, more like, bones now, that you drained of blood but was never enough to make you strong to escape. "I want to take it back." You whispered. "What do you mean?" He asked. You turned to him and with all seriousness. "This is mine. They will not just destroy it and take it as their own. This our property. You should also be fighting for it." You said.

He sighed. As much as the memories hurt him he understood what you were getting at. Rebuild the home and make new memories.

Maybe it didn't hurt you as much, maybe to you it was more of a freedom, a revenge, Damon thought. You were in the other side of the story, he was in the one that screamed pain. He loved you more than anyone he had ever love, he was too torn to make a move like he planned for Katherine to escape under Fell's church. "I know it hurt you to see this place but I was locked in here, in my own home that I couldn't even call my own. I'm glad you didn't share the same fate as I did but, Damon, I want the old us back." You said.

He looked at you with a strong stance. "I know but I can't leave my brother now, not when we know Katherine can come by Mystic Falls any time." He said. You looked at him. You then stood there and hurt flashed through your eyes as realization hit you. "You came back to Mystic Falls to 'free' Katherine, didn't you?" You said and without a word, you knew he was guilty.

"And you tell me I was the one you loved the most." You said and sped out of the house.

"It's not like that, (y/n)–" "They why would you ever go back to Mystic Falls?! You told me that when we were ready to settle down, we would eventually live there but I was so stupid to not think that Katherine might have been there ever since you told me of your encounter with her!" You screamed. "I have known her before you did, I believed you when you said she was trapped, but now I don't know if you've ever loved me knowing you wanted to go back to the forsaken town, and maybe one day you'd plan to let her out." You said, your heart clenching.

"Believe me when I say, I love you, (y/n). I felt all the hurt I could ever feel last week when I went here, when I tried to relive our memories. I convinced myself you were dead because knowing if you were alive and not beside me hurt more than knowing you were dead." Damon exclaimed, tears brimming his bright blue eyes.

"Mystic Falls was–is my humanity, (y/n), and I wanted to share that with you." He said. "Not this house," gesturing to the broken down property. "You were home to me, (y/n). Always will, but I wanted to share with you the place I grew up in, to show you who I was before I became this." He said. Tears slipped down your face and into the dead grass beneath your feet.

"That's why you didn't want to fight them that night. It was okay for you to just run." You said, looking down. Damon walked to you and lifted your head with his finger. "No matter where we live, in a shack, in a mansion, heck a castle, I don't care as long as I have you. You are home." He pulled you to his chest, hugging you as you softly cried. This place hurt you for breaking the wonderful peace you had with a wonderful person but you had to let it go now. Damon pulled away to look at you. "We don't need this house, princess. You got me and I got you." He said. You nodded and he kissed your forehead. "You're always going to be home now, okay?" He asked. Voice muffled against your head. You nodded once more. He lifted your head and kissed you. "Never forget that." He said and smiled. "I never will, I promise."

[faith-in-dean]

Tension

Summary: Sam and you went onto a normal hunt, thinking you would nail it without a scratch. Only you ended up with a big gash on your stomach up to your breast. A discussion emerged, leaving a lot of tension between the two of you. A tension that lead to things you might regret in the morning. Requested by: @charliebradbury1104 and Anonymous

Words: 1774

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader 

Warnings: bit of dry humping, Smut, Unprotected sex, kind of angry!sex I guess, patching up a wound, angst, pretty much fighting I guess

A/N: Written for Smut Appreciation Day!

Masterpost

“I told you to stay back and wait! Why didn't you listen?!” Sam asked rather upset as the two of you were on the way back to the motel.

“Gosh Sam, will you stop? I'm fucking fine,” you groaned as you held the wound on your stomach, which was still bleeding but didn't seem too bad. At least not to you.

But of course, Sam had to make a big deal out of this. He always did and it sure bothered you a lot.

“I won't stop! You could have died or who knows what!” Sam tried to stay as calm as possible.

“So what? That's what the life brings! Death is on every corner for us!” you stated before unlocking the door to your motel room and walked in.

Sam was right behind you, closing the door once he was in.

“Let me take a look at the wound at least,” he said and wouldn’t let the topic drop until you gave in.

“Fine,” you groaned and then took off your shirt, revealing the cut that turned out to be worse than you expected.

It went from your stomach right up to your boob. It was deep, yet not too deep, but definitely needed stitches.

“Come on let me take care of that at least,” Sam sighed, he seemed tenser than he has been before.

“Hell no, I can take care of it myself!” you insisted and flinched a little at a wave of pain as a wave of air hit the cut.

“Damn it Y/N, why do you always have to be like that?! Just let me take care of it! That way we can make sure it’s done right!”

“Are you trying to tell me that I can’t stitch up wounds right?! What the hell is wrong with you Sam?!” you near to yelled now. Was he being serious? The tension between the two of you grew more and more as the two of you were ‘fighting’. It was so thick that if someone gave you some scissors, you would be able to cut it.

“That’s not what I was saying! It’s just… better if I patch you up than if you do it yourself. Damn it!” Sam said and the both of you stared at each other for a couple of moments before you kind of sighed and gave him.

“Fine but you better hurry the fuck up,” you muttered as Sam nodded and went to get the first-aid kid.

At first, he inspected your wound a little and started cleaning it from the bottom to the top when he reached your bra and pushed it up a little, making you hiss at the pain.

“I think you need to take off your bra,” Sam said in such a monotone voice, you didn’t even recognize him like that. Then again, the whole night he has been different and you knew you were too.

“No way I’m taking it off,” you protested, earning an annoyed glance from Sam.

“You have to because otherwise, I can’t stitch up the wound!” his jaw clenched after he talked and stared at you. It looked like the both of you were just extremely mad for nothing, if you were being honest. But you wouldn’t go soft after all these arguments.

Yet you took off your bra, knowing it was for the better. Yet you covered your breasts with one of your arms, making sure he wouldn’t see too much at the same time as making sure he would be able to stitch up the wound.

Sam started at the bottom of the wound, stitching it up slowly and carefully as he worked his way up. His brows were furrowed, the tension didn’t become any less if any, it grew thicker with the silence between the two of you.

Once he was just about to reach the end on your boob he sighed a little.

“You need to lay down and let go of your breast. It will only make it uncomfortable for you afterwards,” Sam said and looked you in the eyes.

“Oh and how exactly do you know that? Did you have boobs before that I don’t know of?” you snapped at him, making him furrowing his brows together more.

“No, but I’ve patched up enough bodies to know what makes things uncomfortable and what not,” he said before you obliged and laid down. Only unwillingly letting go of your breasts.

“I won’t look, I swear,” he grumbled a little before he sat down next to you and then stitched up the rest of the wound.

You did not say anything. You felt like you needed to give him the silent treatment and didn’t even dare to look at him.

Then you didn’t feel him touch you anymore, yet he didn’t say anything so you decided to turn your glance to him. You saw how his eyes were on your breasts and you wanted to flip and yell at him. At least until you noticed the tent in his pants.

The next moment Sam and your eyes met, staring at each other for a minute before he leaned down and crashed his lips against yours.

He had repositioned himself so he was now between your legs, still making sure not to apply any pressure on your now stitched wound, and started rubbing his hard and clothed cock against your clothed sex.

You wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck, running one of your hands through his hair and pulling it lightly.

Sam grunted a little as his tongue licked across your lips, asking for entrance, which you gladly gave him, and your tongues met.

The whole act was a mixture of your tongues playing with each other and Sam thrusting his hard erect cock against your sex.

“Clothes,” you managed to moan out when the two of you pulled back for a moment. He nodded and took off his shirt, exposing his broad and hairy chest and those nice muscles to you, before he moved down a little to take off your pants and panties followed by his own pants and boxers afterwards.

The length that sprung free kind of shocked you at first and you weren’t sure how he was going to fit you, but those thoughts were soon blown away as Sam had gotten on top of you again, making sure to support the weight of his upper body with his hands next to your head and kissing you deeply while his tip poked at your entrance and son pushed into you completely.

“Oh god, Sam,” you moaned out and arched your back at the feeling of him filling you up completely.

“You feel so good,” Sam groaned a little and slowly started to pull out all the way, only leaving his tip to be inside you, before he pushed in all the way again.

For some time he kept that slow pace going, kissing your neck and breasts as he did so, but soon enough his pace sped up, his thrusts became rougher and harder as he lifted one of your thighs and held onto it while fucking you into the mattress.

Moans and groans filled the room with every thrust. Sam kept repeating just how good you felt, how nice you wrapped around his big hard cock each time he thrust into you.

“Sam… I’m close,” you moaned loudly as you tried bucking your hips a little to meet his thrusts.

“Me… too,” Sam grunted and sped up even more, literally pounding into you when he found your G-spot, sending you over the edge and into a blissful and rough orgasm. Your muscles clenched around him as your sight flashed white and you moaned as if there was no tomorrow.

The feeling of your walls tightening around Sam’s cock, made Sam follow right after, his nose scrunched as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, sitting back on his heels and pulling you with him, pressing you down on him as much as he could while his hot seed spilled inside you.

Again you moaned out loudly and held onto Sam, who now had one arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand on your head.

He stilled inside of you and kept you in place, just sometimes giving you little thrusts before he pulled out completely and laid down with your, keeping his arms wrapped around you, while you covered the two of you with a blanket.

“This was amazing,” Sam said as his chest was rising up and down heavily from trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, it was,” you nodded and closed your eyes, the exhaustion from the hunt and the sex taking over soon as you fell asleep.

It was only when you woke up the next morning, that you realized this had been a huge mistake. That you should have never done this.

You shouldn't have slept with Sam. You shouldn't have let him patch you up and you shouldn't have let him get so close to you.

“Dammit,” you hissed at yourself as you got up and quickly got dressed, not even thinking about being careful with the stitches.

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Sam asked as he woke up, rubbing his eyes a little.

“This. All of this is wrong! We shouldn't have done this!” you exclaimed and started packing your back. You needed to leave. There was just no other option.

“But…  but why? I-I thought you enjoyed it too? I don't understand… what happened?” Sam looked at you, confused and kind of hurt.

“Because, well, let me recap. Everyone you fucking slept with ended up dead and while I appreciate you, I don't feel like dying just yet. Though I'm most likely doomed now anyway,”  you exclaimed and grabbed your bag.

“Is… Is that how you think of me?” Sam asked. The hurt was now not only on his face anymore but also in his voice.

You just shook your head and swung your bag over your shoulder and headed to the door.

“Goodbye Sam,” you turned to face him once more before just leaving.

Maybe it wasn't much of the fear of death that made you leave. Hell, you had been close to death so many times and you wouldn't mind dying. That's what the hunter’s life brought you. Maybe it was rather the fear of your feelings for Sam. You were scared of feeling anything that wasn't hate or disgust because at one point feelings like love would stab you in the back and hurt you more than death.

And for that reason, you just had to leave.

@castieltrash1 @angelofwinchester17 @peachtickler69 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trinityjadec @tattooedluci @smoothdogsgirl @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @mayasmedberg @xtina2191 @melonberri @mysteriouslyme81 @castieltrash1 @lilyoflothlorien @whoopxd @panic-angel3314 @charliebradbury1104 @sis-tafics @fuckyeahfeysand @netflixandcastiellll @sushi-senpai-chan @scarygoodfanfics @casownsmyass @moose-lyfe @helvonasche @angelofwinchester17 @purgatoan @chrisevansthedoritobastard @writingbeautifulmen @lakama15 @tardisandtalisman @marvelbase001 @supernaturallymarvellous @fangirl1802 @mrswhozeewhatsis @atc74 @chucksangel @deanmon-tho @feelmyroarrrr @gabavaldman @cyaa-niide @supernaturalyobessed @the-sarcastic-mess @smalltownrodeogirl @livelovelike555 @curliesallovertheplace @waywardjoy @its-not-candy @blushingsamgirl @roxy-davenport @skybinx-blog @isoldmysoulforspn @buckysmetallicstump @spn-fan-girl-173 @devilgirlsarah @mogaruke @spnimagines354 @allieyolo_123 @trench-coated-angels @winchesterprincessbride @skathan-omaha @buffylovesfoxmulder  

[characteroulette]

It's not Halloween.

( @ageofzero requested this PruCan like YEARS ago and here it finally is)

--

  Matthew didn't know where Gilbert got them, how Gilbert got them, or if Gilbert was drunk or not. All Matthew knew was that he came back to his dorm room to find Ludwig (his roommate) in a panic because Gilbert (their suite mate) had stolen something of Matthew's (Ludwig wouldn't admit to what, though by the bright shade of red he turned whenever mentioning it, it couldn't be anything good that little shit) and had gone sprinting off into the campus. Arthur wasn't due back until past midnight (all ready at some party or other, probably Francis', in a vain attempt to woo Matthew's brother, as Arthur tried every single fucking year they'd known each other), which meant Matthew and Ludwig were the only ones there to deal with this shit.

  Ludwig was, after all the panic and embarrassment, livid. Matthew couldn't blame him. Gilbert liked to pull pranks like this at least once a week. Usually, Arthur was the one that got roped in the most (being Gilbert's roommate kinda made Arthur the prime candidate for an accomplice), but Gilbert was talented enough to get Matthew, Ludwig, and even Feliciano into the trouble at times as well. That reminded Matthew that he had to ask Feliciano to promise to never, under any circumstances whatsoever, even under the threat of crucifixion from Lovino, tell Gilbert where Matthew hid the keys to his car. The carpet inside still smelled like shampoo.

  Although Matthew should have been livid (he had a good educated guess as to what it was that Gilbert had taken. Though, like Ludwig, Matthew didn't quite have the nerve to admit it out loud), but really, he was more amused than anything. It had been getting to that point with him and Gilbert as of late. That had to stop. Matthew wasn't about to get in any deeper with this crazy party boy brother of his roommate's.

  At least Gilbert had an okay excuse this time. Halloween was the time for tricks. Matthew made a mental note to switch out his rock chocolates with real rocks once they got back to the dorms to preserve their life in the presence of the two Germans. And Arthur.

  Ludwig and Matthew agreed to split up, taking the campus as a whole in halves. While Ludwig was correct, technically, in calling it East and West, Matthew's map retarded brain saw it in more of a top half, bottom half general sense. Matthew would search the dorm buildings, the stadium, the sports fields, the gym, and the student help building, Ludwig would take the lecture halls (science, business, music, math, and language departments all had their own buildings) and library side of the campus. Matthew probably should have asked for that half, but it was too late now.

  He ran by other students in costumes, most of them either cheap puns or fairly believable. There was a facebook guy from his Sociology class, that was apple-headed chao from his European History I class, a passing student had a very fancy Draco Malfoy outfit with the bleached white hair and everything. Very nicely done. And now wasn't really the time to be getting distracted by all this. Matthew paused by the outside stage, gnawing on his bottom lip. This shouldn't have been taking so long. Usually, Gilbert was fairly easy to spot, with his broad, sweeping gestures and loud, commanding voice.

  "Trick or treat, Mattie!"

  Gilbert grabbed Matthew up from behind, cackling. And that obnoxious, crowing laughter. Matthew had forgotten to add that onto the list of reasons why Gilbert was a very hard person to lose. Also the annoying need to nickname all the things (all the 'cute' things, at least, as much as Gilbert might try to deny it). Matthew went limp on instinct, exhaled heavily. "Gil--"

  "Aww, c'mon, Mattie. You're not even in costume yet when it's prime trick or treating time." Gilbert kept Matthew on his feet, despite the sudden bonelessness, and cackled again. Matthew's ears would be bleeding by the end of the night. No, he had to remain positive. At least Gilbert wasn't some psychopath who would've stabbed Matthew by now. Yes. Positive. Gilbert made sure Matthew wasn't about to collapse, then stood back with his hands on his hips. "How can you even stand being out and about without a costume? Get with the spirit, man."

  Gilbert slapped Matthew's back, a little too hard for Matthew's tastes. At least it wasn't as powerful as any of Alfred's accidental 'brotherly' punches on the arm. That bruise was still some fantastic geostigma colours. Matthew straightened up, no longer slouching, and faced Gilbert. "I'll get with the spirit when -- th-those are my pants!"

  Matthew slapped a hand to his rapidly reddening face, pointing with the other at Gilbert. This hadn't been what Matthew anticipated Gilbert to have stolen at all. There went his neatly formulated plan to get Gilbert to stop being such a spastic douche. Gilbert glanced down to the red briefs in question, the only thing Gilbert was wearing besides a red cape and sandals. Then Gilbert went right back to smirking, raised one eyebrow suggestively. "Your point being?"

  Correction, flirty spastic douche. Matthew groaned, withdrew the pointing hand to help his other cover the rest of his face. His ears were burning. Goddamn it, couldn't there be one normal day of the year at this place?

  Gilbert continued, in spite of Matthew's blatant portrayal of frustration and annoyance. "Hey, it was either this or that Sanada beefcake from the fighting game. You know, the guy who wrestles bears. He's cool. But I figured your hair's too curly to pull off Minato's well enough."

  Matthew took deep, steady breaths and resisted giving his friend a good punch to the face. Come on, Matthew, Gilbert wasn't really that bad. It could've been worse. There could be zombies involved and it could be Slenderman and it could be many, many worse things than just the red pants. Matthew shook his head, tried to straighten himself out again. "Minato seems a strange choice to partner with Akihiko."

  "Yeah, well." Gilbert shrugged. "You're still not in costume, so let's get that fixed."

  "I'm supposed to be helping Ludwig find you and get you into something proper."

  Gilbert, again, waggled an eyebrow at Matthew. "Sounds like a deal to me."

  Matthew had to cover his face with his hands again, too red to properly form a coherent statement. Gilbert cackled, grabbed one of Matthew's wrists and dragged Matthew off, back to the dorms.

  "Look, I'm sorry that I stole your pants and ran around campus telling everyone that you were now the property of the awesome Gilbert--"

  Matthew came near to shouting. "Again? Gil, what the fuck?"

  Gilbert extended his lower lip, pouty and ridiculous in the getup he had on. "You should feel honoured to be welcomed into the presence of my awesomeness."

  Matthew exhaled quietly, near rolled his eyes. "Gil, it doesn't work like that."

  "I'm fucking floored that you still let me bask in your awesomeness."

  Gilbert huffed. Matthew opened his mouth to make a counterargument, thought better of it and simply shook his head. "Thank you, Gilbert. But, you know, maybe I'd take you a little more seriously if you stopped acting like such a child."

  "I'm not acting like a kid, I'm being awesome."

  Matthew laughed without an ounce of humour in it, flicked Gilbert's forehead when Gilbert glanced back to glare at Matthew. "Whatever makes you feel better."

  Gilbert frowned, rubbed at the spot as he faced forward. "You gotta stop that robot laugh thing, Mattie. I'm the one who'd dress up as Souji, you'd have to be Yousuke and that wouldn't do at all."

  Matthew rolled his eyes and didn't respond, despite the ready complaint in his brain about how Souji's name was Narukami. That argument had been a fun one at the beginning of their attempt to play through Persona 4. Gilbert got them back to their rooms, during which Matthew sent a text to Ludwig telling the guy that Gilbert had been secured.

  They went into Ludwig and Matthew's side of the dorm and Gilbert immediately went to Matthew's bunk to scour around in the blankets. "You didn't move anything, right? When you came in earlier?"

  Matthew shook his head, placed his shoulder bag down on his desk and rummaged through to grab his wallet, keys, and DS. Knowing Gilbert, they'd be dragged to Francis' party as well (by 'they', Matthew meant himself and Ludwig, of course) and end up playing designated drivers to a host of drunks. Hopefully, this time, Matthew would be able to dissuade Gilbert from drinking so much. Hopefully, Matthew wouldn't have to deal with a drunk Arthur in his car, either.

  "Good, good. That means -- found it." Gilbert pulled out what Matthew first assumed to be a towel from Matthew's bed. After a moment, Matthew recognised it as a toga. One, he assumed, normally marketed towards women, considering the shortness of it. Gilbert, unabashed, presented it to Matthew. "Couldn't really find one that was historically accurate for not a hundred bucks and I didn't think you'd appreciate bed sheets, so here ya go."

  It was less skimpy than what Gilbert was wearing. Still, Matthew let out a long sigh. "Why?"

  "Because it's a gift from the awesome me."

  Matthew took off his glasses to rub his palms into his eyes hard. "Why?"

  "So we can match. C'mon, Mattie."

  Gilbert continued to present the thing to Matthew, as if it was a normal thing to give your best friend a matching outfit for Halloween that skimpy. No matter how matter-of-fact Gilbert sounded, Matthew wasn't about to let this one slide. Not this time. "Gil, I'm not wearing that."

  "But you have to." Gilbert whined, all theatrics and loud and fucking aggravating. "I know you didn't get yourself any other kind of costume. In fact, if I hadn't got you this, you'd probably go wearing that grave digger zombie hunter costume again."

  "It's simple. I like it." Matthew grabbed the toga out of Gilbert's hands to get a better look at it. After a moment's examination, he discovered that, yes, it was definitely a costume designed for females. Matthew frowned at Gilbert. "This is a straight-up dress, Gil. What the fuck?"

  Gilbert rolled his eyes. "It's a toga, Mattie."

  "It's a dress." Matthew tossed the thing off to the side, back onto his bunk, and headed for his dresser. Ludwig got the closet due to a keen obsession with hanging things (it probably came from having so many dress shirts and suits) and Matthew got the dresser. "Whatever, you wear it if you're that insistent that someone wear it."

  Gilbert made some frustrated noises as Matthew pulled open the bottom drawer on the dresser. "But I've all ready got my costume, that one's yours."

  "Which reminds me of my other point." Matthew paused in rummaging through the clothes in the drawer and glared back at Gilbert. "Take off my pants and put on something else." Matthew went back to looking for his grave digger outfit. "Stop taking my things at random, while I'm at it. And stop hiding Arthur's books when he falls asleep studying, you know that freaks him out."

  "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

  Gilbert's tone was flippant and dismissive. Matthew decided to ignore it. He, instead, pulled out the dark green shirt that went with his normal, less revealing costume and the brown cargo pants to go with it. They weren't nearly as dirty as they should be for a grave digger, but that was a simple fix. Matthew grinned, placed the clothes on his bed and next went about looking for his shovel to go along with them.

  Behind him, he heard the door open and Ludwig's voice follow directly after. "Matthew, I heard you -- what are you doing?"

  Matthew jumped at the sudden shout. He whirled around quickly, ready to defend himself. "I'm just getting my costume--"

  He stopped. Ludwig stood in the doorway, face impossibly red. And standing proudly in the middle of the room, buck naked, was Gilbert.

  Matthew's voice rose to a shrill yell. "Why are you naked?"

  "Well." Gilbert smirked, all casual as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "You told me to take your pants off. Didn't you?"

  "And I told you to put something else on!"

  Matthew turned away, unable to look any longer. Gilbert snickered, which seemed to snap Ludwig out of his shock. "Brother, please go put some clothes on. And, please, choose more presentable costume, perhaps?"

  "You've gotta live a little, West, c'mon."

  The two weren't shouting, at least. Matthew tuned them out and heaved out a breath, staring at his grave digger outfit and the toga on his bed. The night hadn't even started yet and all ready Matthew wished it was over.

[zuriwanders-blog]

Limsa Lominsa.  Age 22.

His grip on her thighs hurt.  Zuri reached down, taking a fistful of his hair, and pulled.

"Do you want me to squeeze your balls like that?"

He looked up at her, grinning like she'd just made the best joke he'd ever heard, and she bared her teeth at him.  He released one thigh, reached up to grab the back of her neck, and brought her to him.  He bit her lip, the sodding fiend, and she growled at him.  She bit him back -- her teeth were sharper, after all, than some buck-toothed roegadyn -- and he moaned.  He moaned.  

She jerked back, startled, and he pulled her back in.  He bit again, harder.  So she bit back, harder.

He moaned again.

She pushed away, staring at him, brows furrowed.

"Wot?"  He asked, reaching for her.

She evaded.  She brought her hand to her lips, and found blood there.  "You made me bleed!"  

He stared back.  They stood there, in tableau, clothing either on the floor or severely askew, flushed and breathing hard.  The petting had been heavy, but not so strange, just a little more...enthusiastic than usual.  Zuri cast back over their initial meeting, the flirtation, the suggestions, the trip back...none of it had indicated that he wanted to fight.  Really, well, he was aroused.  That was obvious enough.

"Lass," he said, his brows furrowing.

Oh, his arousal seemed to be flagging.  She stared at that instead, fascinated.

"Lass," he said again, some hint of annoyance in his voice.  She looked back up.  "Don't tell me ye ain't never had rough sex."

Zuri frowned at him.  Of course she'd had rough sex.  But Suva had never made her bleed, or left marks on her.  To do such was an insult.  "You made me bleed," she accused, again.  "Sex doesn't involve bleeding.  Well," she felt her face heat, "not unless it's...."  she looked down, towards her own groin.  The implication was obvious enough.

He made a strangled sound, and then began chuckling.  She did not appreciate it, glaring hard enough to make sure that he understood her lack of appreciation.  She started to pick up what pieces of clothing she'd been fool enough to take off.

"Now hold on, lass.  Have ye really never..."

She narrowed her eyes at him.  They were all but slitted now, her ears back, tail stiff and fur on end.  He studied her, in return, a damnable smirk still affixed to his lips in a way that made her want to make him bleed.  Stupid man.  He leaned back, sitting down on his haunches so their differences in height wasn't quite so drastic.

"Would ye like to learn?"  The tone of his voice had changed.  Softer.  Still amused, but there was some gentleness there that completely belied his unreasonable attack.

Zuri lifted her upper lip at him.

"Sex can get rough, y'know," he persisted.  "Real rough."

"I've no wish to let you tarnish my honor," she hissed.

"Honor?  Wots yer honor got t'do with this?"

"I'll not let you tarnish me without reprisal."

He grinned.  "Well good.  That's th'point."

"I've no wish to be tarnished in the first place!" She snapped.

"And 'ow ye know that, huh?"

She stared at him.

"Now, I don't know wot ideas ye got rollin' up in that head o' yers, but if ye ain't mixed playin' rough wi' yer fuckin', how ye know ye ain't want it?"

Silence.  It drew out between them, as Zuri glowered at him, thinking.  He let her think, rocking back on his heels.  As far as Zuri could tell, he was no longer hard at all, though with him crouching like that, it was hard to tell.  While she was pretty sure she didn't want to bleed during sex, there had been a number of new experiences she'd encountered after being exiled from the Twelveswood, and her tribe.  She hadn't wanted any of them, of course; she wanted her home.  Nonetheless, there were some things she'd enjoyed.  Begrudgingly.

"I don't trust you," she said.

"Lass, how often d'ye go about lettin' strange men lead ye to their rooms?"

She flushed.  Decided right then and there that he wasn't sticking anything in her.  Not any more.  She started to dress, ignoring his exasperated sigh.  He'd done it to himself.  This was his fault, not hers.

"A'right.  Fine.  I won't bite ye like that no more.  But I don't got not problems gettin' bit."

She paused with one boot halfway on, eyeing him.  "Why by the twelve would I want to bite you?"

He eyed her.  "Coz I like it."

She frowned.  "Why?"

"Coz I do."

Stalemate.  She eventually gave up putting on the boot, turning to face him, folding her arms.  "What if I don't want to bite you?"

He shrugged.  "Then don't."

She scowled.  "Then what's the point?"

"How d'ye feel about bruises, then?"

She gaped at him.

"I ain't gonna hit ye or naught, lass, stop givin' me that evil eye.  Jes...toss ye 'round a little.  Get ye right up against th' wall.  Fuck ye hard."

She didn't understand.  She really, really didn't understand.  Part of her was disgusted that she was having this conversation at all -- warriors and hunters of her people did not simply go about letting themselves get smacked around.  Someone hurt you, you hurt them back, worse.  That was the expectation.  That was honor.  And, despite her mistakes, despite her ... issues, she'd always done the right thing, and she was well regarded.  Even still.  Why should she let some backwards foreigner sully her?

But she ached to be touched.  She'd slept alone on the road the last six suns, and she just... she just...

"If I do this," she whispered, "then you must let me sleep here, tonight.  Next to you."

His turn to give her a baffled look.  "Wot?"

"I like it," she said.

A long pause.  She started to get undressed, again, and he finally said: "a'right.  Sure."

She didn't stop until she stood naked before him, watching him as he watched her.  There was a renewed flicker of interest, there.  A small spark of lust.  He still wasn't as hard as he'd been before, though.  She wondered if he'd expect her to rectify that.  She wandered closer to him, feeling the strength in her own body.  Feeling her own readiness to defend herself, if she needed to.  Well, he'd have to rectify some of her own lost arousal, if that were the case.  Fair was fair.

"So... how do we --"

He grabbed her by her hair, twisted her around before she had a chance to do more than gasp and flail, and pushed her down so the side of her face hit the floor.  It stunned her.  And yet, before she had a chance to fight, he brought his face down next to her ear, his voice startlingly gentle.  "If ye want this t'stop, at any time, ye jes say stop."

It made her pause.  

His fingers were between her legs in the next instant, his mouth on her shoulder.  He didn't bite her, as  he said he wouldn't, but he did something else that stung.  She felt as if he'd cheated her somehow, but she was too distracted by those fingers to complain about it.  She could feel the heat between her thighs building again, giving her cause to arch her back and push back against him: needy.

He pushed her head down harder on the floor, and she felt him withdraw a little.  He slapped her ass.  That wasn't new to her, but the strength of the blow made her flinch.  He paused, as if to dare her to tell him to stop.  Stubborn, she didn't, gritting her teeth as he resumed fingering her.  It felt good, she had to admit, surprisingly so.  She'd expected him to be terrible at it.

He slapped her again.  She cried out.  He fingered her.  Back and forth, never letting her get too accustomed to either, he set her to reeling.  The worst part was, she still couldn't decide whether or not she liked it, but her body was throbbing all the same, singing with her own arousal.  She lay there, limp, ass up high.  He left her there, until she started to actively move, seeking more of his attentions.  He chuckled, and she flushed with realization of what was happenning.  Then, before she could get some cutting remark out, his hand fisted in her hair again, and drew her head sharply back.  It stung, the pain quick and harsh and...not entirely disagreeable.

Shocked, she didn't even offer protest as he forced her body upright, with her still on her knees, twisting her at an awkward angle.  She felt him then, the bulbous head of him, pressed up to her vulva.  He slid against her, and it was only then that she realized just how wet she was.  It had to be a fluke, somehow, really, but that smooth slide of him against her, bumping up against her clit --

she moaned.

He made a sound of his own then, entirely masculine and self-satisfied.  She growled back at him, and he casually slapped her on the side of her hip.  It stung worse than her reddened ass did, and she flinched, yelping.

He pushed in.

Everything changed.

Prolonged teasing had seen Zuri cum from entrance before, but this time was different.  The lingering stinging and warmth from the slapping played havoc with the pleasure she felt, enhancing it rather than subtracting from it.  It was a confusing sensation, as if there were an underlying foundation to her orgasm that held it back and made it more intense, at the same time.

She didn't know if she liked it.

She wanted more.

He obliged.  She could hear him chuckling, as if he knew what was going on in her head.  His big hands rested on her hips, pulling her back into him with each resounding thrust.  She could smell her own excitement, hear it as he pounded her, and even when he took firmer hold of her hair, she still found herself tumbling into more little orgasms.  She resented each one.

"Sure ye don't want t'say stop?"

"Shut u--"

He yanked back on her hair viciously, and the moan she let out shamed her to her core.  She bit down on her lip, determined to prove him wrong, about everything.  Even though she wasn't quite sure what that meant anymore, she knew that she needed to prove to him that this wasn't the way sex worked.

He picked her up, turning her around with an ease that made her dizzy.  His fingers squeezed on her hips so hard she couldn't help but cry out with the pain, even as he set her to the wall with such force her teeth nearly rattled.  She stared up at him as he settled her thighs on his hips, grinning at her.

"If ye want it t' stop... do ye?"

He was mocking her now.  She glared at him, bared her teeth in clear warning, and he thrust into her without warning.  She screamed, the feel of it mixing pain with pleasure in a whole new way than what he'd done before.  A feeling not unlike the urge to cry bubbled up into her throat, her eyes going hot in a way that didn't quite feel right.

She could say stop.

She could.

But then she wouldn't know how this ended.  And she needed to know, the same way she needed him to make her keep cumming, the same way she needed his cock in her, each push scraping her back against the wall.  She wanted it even as she despised it, loathed it even as she loved it.  And she didn't know.  She couldn't know, could only drown in it as it went on and on, clawing him up and down and hearing him moan for it, unable to help herself even as he helped himself to her.

And she didn't care.  If this was what it meant to lose her honor, then what was honor?  What was sex?  

She stopped thinking, falling into the endless tide of the pleasure until she was left limp and wobbly, until her body was near numb with it.

She felt him cum in her, and couldn't even manage one last one for herself.  She was utterly spent, not protesting or resisting as he carried her back to his bed, lay her down, and flopped beside her.  He didn't cuddle her, instead putting his back to hers.  It was companionable enough, as her dazed mind wandered over inconsequential things, until she fell asleep.

Sometimes, life didn't make sense.

That was okay.