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girl-in-the-chairs-void · 2 months

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Kinslayer

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!reader (fem pronouns used)

Word count: 2k (she’s a baby)

cw: hurt, comfort, soft aemond, mentions of being naked? ANGST ANGST ANGST, the pov switches between aemond/third person and second person soo if you notice it going into “her” and “you”, it’s on purpose please don’t kill me.

a/n: I really wanted to make the little Drabble into a full fic soo here it is!! Not proofread. Let me know your thoughts!!!

Kinslayer.

That’s what they’ll call him. Rejoicing in celebration after Vhagar mercilessly attacked Arrax and Lucereys Velaryon. His nephew, his kin.

The cold had already seeped through his leather settled in his bones. He felt nothing but the chill of the air as he landed with Vhagar into the dragon pits. The roaring amber of the castle doing nothing to add even an ounce of warmth through him. His eyepatch wet and leaking its colour onto his scar- poorly made for a prince- it seared through him. He took it off immediately, throwing into one of the torches on the wall.

Servants rushed his side, trying to assist him in any way possible but he dismissed them with a stern look before walking towards the small council room. Gods be good, he wanted nothing more than to hide away in his chambers, away from everyone, away from peering eyes of the lords and councilmen, away from Alicent, from Aegon.

But near you. In his chambers where he could be Aemond. Not second son, not ‘The One Eyed Prince’. But only Aemond, your husband. He would take that title to his grave if he could, leaving all his other titles because those titles were given to him on a silver platter, he didn’t ask for them. However, he craved the title of being your husband.

Ever since you were kids. Aemond had taken a liking in sitting in the library with you and talking about history. Sneaking out and taking walks in the Red Keep or the gardens to distract himself from the political side of his life.

You- a simple Tyrell girl who came to Kings Landing when you were only two with your father, Lord Tyrell. Aemond only being three years old had taken a liking to you even when you were only capable of padding on your little feet across the castle. Getting to grow up in Kings landing with the prince and his siblings.

It wasn’t a shock to the realm when King Visereys announced your betrothal to the young prince when you were only eight. Having no idea what the prince held for you in his heart, but you knew he was not one to easily open up. And after what happened at Driftmark, it had taken you quite some time to walk his maze. He’d shut himself out to the rest of the world. Not meeting up in the library or in the courtyard for your usual routine.

So you took it upping yourself to knock on his door every morrow, and supper. Threatening to break in if he didn’t at least take the food into his chambers and eat it.

The first time you saw him after the unfortunate incident, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t scare away in a corner. You smiled at him, slowly approached him and gently ghosted your fingers over his new forming scar. His eye now replaced with a beautiful sapphire- your touch burned, but it burned with a feeling that he wished to experience a thousand times over.

The two children were found sound asleep in Aemond’s bed when the maesters came around to check on the princes health the next morning; wrapped around each other like dragons protecting their kin.

Even years later, he was grateful to have you. He wouldn’t tell it to anyone’s face but his actions always speak for him.

He always seeks you first in large gatherings. Following you like a guard dog wherever he’s in the castle and not away on Prince business across the seven kingdoms.

But today. It was different. You felt it as soon as you heard Vhagars roars through the air, crawling their way through the open window in your and Aemond’s chambers.

You rushed to the dragon pits carefully. The maids trying to assist you but you insisted on going by yourself only to find no one there but the dragons. Your husband nowhere to be seen.

You sighed, an eerie feeling brewing deeply in your gut as you walked back to your chambers and buried yourself in a cloak and settled onto the settee, hoping Aemond would show up.

He didn’t show up, much to your dismay. You had a hunch that he had probably made his way to the small council to report of his business at Storms end.

And so you waited while he spiralled.

…

Aegon looked…proud?

After breaking the news of what happened tonight on Storms End; the small council’s reaction were rather mixed. Alicent shook her head, getting up from her chair abruptly and making her way out of the room. Suddenly finding it suffocating.

His grandsire looked as though he was about to faint right that instant. Holding onto the armrest as he sighed in defeat.

The lords- your father being one of them, looked disappointed as ever. The death of a kin is never a way to settle for peace.

“You did well, brother.” Aegon speaks, the lords and the Hand turning their heads towards him with wide eyes. The death of a child and he did- well?

“I call for a celebration! A feast, tonight!” He declares, arms wide as he gets up from his chair and reached his brother at the end of the table in three long strides. Patting him on the back.

Aemond feels sick, grotesque. He hates this feeling.

He hasn’t uttered a word since his reporting, hasn’t met anyone’s eye and doesn’t want to either. He simply nods, fixing his head up yet not making eye contact and sternly walks away, exiting the room before running to a small corner to empty out his stomach’s content.

He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He was just…

Just what?

There was no simple explanation to why he acted tonight on Storm’s End. He was angry, furious even. But he, a man who is the perfect picture of composure, let his emotions get the worst of him. He was only trying to scare him with Vhagar, a dragon that chose him. He only wanted to show Lucereys how he felt that night on Driftmark when the boy stabbed his eye and left him to whither in his own blood. Vhagar chose him that night on Driftmark, a dragon known for its great size and strength all over the seven kingdoms chose the white haired boy after its rider’s death.

…

He doesn’t return to her, to you. The news of Lucereys must’ve reached you by now, or at least of the feast that Aegon has arranged for tonight.

He should be celebrating, with his brother- the king. But it feel wrong. So, here he is, standing in the corner of the Throne room with a chalice of wine. His mind going a thousand times faster.

Kinslayer.

Kinslayer

Kinslayer.

Kin-

Soft thumbs invaded his hands, plotting a coup and attacking their way into his palms, a finger, then another, weaving through his hand and taking over. His breathing stopped for just a second before he realised it was her, immediately feeling pints of blood shoot to his heart that thrummed erratically through his chest, he could feel the blood seep into his bones, replacing the chill of the rain he had experienced mere hours ago.

You had this effect on him, even after all these years. Of knowing you, through and through. Even the parts of you that are only meant for his eyes, you always managed to quietly make way for yourself in his heart. Not that his heart wasn’t laid out for you in a platter. He’d do it if you asked, rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter, it was yours to have ever since his third name day.

He focused back to you, not looking at you but rather feeling the ridges and lines of your palm that was connected to his. The way your thumb traced over his. Your other hand sneaking its way to his arm, up and down, up and down. A steady rhythm that he remembers and tries to match. He took a breath, then another. In and out- up and down. He tensed his feet, held by his leather boots, digging the heel into the concrete ground of the grand hall before your hand squeezed his bicep, once again pulling him back before he could drown in the cold noises of the feast.

He doesn’t say anything, or meet your eyes. Fearing what you might hold in them. Fear? Disappointment? Distaste? Does she see me as a monster now that I’ve hurt one of my own? One of her own?

You don’t. Unknown to him. You don’t know what happened exactly on Storms end, but seeing the way he wanted to be anywhere but here was a clear indication that your husband didn’t mean it. The fear in his eyes was buried deep but you saw it the moment your eyes lay on his tense back and ridged composure.

He never liked Lucereys, but he knows you did. There were only a few people in King’s Landing you truly despised. But oh the Sevens know how much you love those boys. The bastards only have the name Velaryon, yet they don’t carry even an ounce of resemblance to their supposed father. But you didn’t care, you never did.

You loved luceyres like a little brother. Even if you had little time to spend with the Velaryon boy, and Jace and Joeffrey. They were sweet to you. Having looked up to you as an older sister. And you loved them like your own, so when the news of Lucereys passes by you. You don’t think twice before running to find Aemond. He wouldn’t do that to you, right? He knew you love him, and the boys that were like brothers to you.

He never liked them, but he loves you. Gods, he loves you.

They don’t say anything to each other. Not for the rest of night. She keeps a hold of his hand, squeezing it once, pausing, then two and three. A secret language- a code.

I still love you. It dawned on him. Crashed through his chest and broke every bone in its wake.

This fucking war, you curse in your mind. If only Visereys hadn’t died such a death. If only he hadn’t named Aegon as King as his dying wish rather than announcing it at his first name day. If only Rhaenyra wasn’t named heir first.

If only. She knows wishing won’t do her good but the thoughts still linger in her mind like a plague.

She keeps a hold of his hand. Feeling the coldness that he carries, the warmth of her own hand travelling up his arm. Dragons blood in a Tyrell, he’d said once. That’s a rare sight. To which you dismissed as only having warm hands. But your hands had only became warm and dragon like after him. After having to carry his child.

A swollen belly of a princess. You were a sight for sore eyes. But the Gods had blessed you with this child- his child and you nurture them gracefully.

One hand on your belly and the other holding his, you both make your way to your chambers as the feast comes to a close, Aegon, once again, drunkly congratulates his brother for the up tenth time as he exists.

Not a single word has been said between the prince and the princess, yet they both find it more than comforting to not say a word because the heavy tension could be shattered with even a single sound.

As they enter their chamber, Aemond takes a deep- shaky breath. Knees buckling before he composes himself- not wanting to fall on his wife, not wanting to cause further damage.

You notice the way he’s staggering towards the bath. Quickly taking his leather soaked clothes off. He hadn’t changed, you note, it required him to come to the chambers. You walk to his side. Silently, he allows you to undress him, politely gesturing to the servants to bring hot water for his bath. Taking out his night garments for him before standing behind him as he settles into the warm bath.

You’re mothering him, something he’s only experienced with you and not his actual mother.

You quietly ask the servants to leave. Taking the wet rag and washing up the prince yourself. It’s an awkward move sitting on your knees while almost seven moons pregnant, but you don’t mind.

He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to meet your eyes. He lets you tear down all his walls and see him naked. Not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But this- this is a level of vulnerability you haven’t seen in him since Driftmark.

You dress him up, brush his hair and take off his eyepatch and sapphire, noticing that it wasn’t the same one he wore on his way to Storms end.

He kisses her forehead that night, not a single word uttered even then, his lips lingering as he cradles her head. Ever so carefully, like she’s porcelain, breaking at any given moment. He hopes she can’t hear his screaming heart that threatens to burst as he pulls her into his chest.

Feeling the way her breathing becomes more shallow. It pains him to not be able to look at her. To look into her beautiful eyes, look at the bright smile that he wishes she wore. But he knows he can’t.

And you’re the cause of it, his mind screams.

The mother of his child lets her tears escape onto his chest. Silent sobs raking her body and his heart chips and eats him from the inside, not wanting him to see the next sunrise.

But he stays still, he stays because he knows he’s at fault. He stays still when her silent sobs become audible and he closes his eye to let her punch and claw at him- but she doesn’t. Instead she stays too. Her arms like ivy curling around him as he hugs her- squeezes her, once then again.

I’m sorry.

Anddd that is it!! I hope you guys liked it. I am a sucker for soft Aemond and his wife, so what better moment to let him be healthily venerable than this? They’re both a lil fucked up but who isn’t? Let me know what yall think!!

@delusionsofnostalgia ; since you liked the Drabble. This is for u <3

Random tags: @endless-ineffabilities @aemonds-sapphire @firebornfables

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asongoficeandfiresource · 1 year

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Stark Ladies by Justin Sweet

The Winter Rose and Bael the Bard in the 2024 ASOIAF Calendar

"North or south, singers always find a ready welcome, so Bael ate at Lord Stark's own table, and played for the lord in his high seat until half the night was gone. The old songs he played, and new ones he'd made himself, and he played and sang so well that when he was done, the lord offered to let him name his own reward. 'All I ask is a flower,' Bael answered, 'the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell.'" "Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o' the winter roses be plucked for the singer's payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon's maiden daughter. Her bed they found empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow where her head had lain." -- Jon VI, ACOK

Arya Stark in The World of Ice and Fire

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. Arya held the candle over her head. With each step she took, the shadows moved against the walls, as if they were turning to watch her pass. "Dragons," she whispered. She slid Needle out from under her cloak. The slender blade seemed very small and the dragons very big, yet somehow Arya felt better with steel in her hand. -- Arya Stark IV, AGOT

Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen in the 2024 ASOIAF Calendar

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride. -- Eddard I, AGOT Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides. -- The World of Ice and Fire

#arya stark #lyanna stark #bael the bard #brandon the daughterless #rhaegar targaryen #asoiaf #asoiaf art #justin sweet #canonarya #asoiafedit #official art #starkedit

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

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Hello, could you write something about Thranduil if you would like? About how I take care of an elf who was cut short as a punishment and her hair was cut very short, even though she was innocent. This is a trauma for her, because for elves, and especially for elven women, hair is something very important. Of course, if you feel like it.

Since you haven't specified a timeline for when this could have occurred, I took some liberties with the HCs below. I hope you don't mind.

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader

Themes: Angst | Soft

Warnings: Hair loss as a form of punishment | Bullying/Thranduil being a bit of a bully in the beginning.

🌿You were one of the Ñoldor, born years after the Kinslaying at Doriath, but still, you had been tarred with the same brush. You were forced to wander through the land as other elves wanted nothing to do with you and your kin.

🌿Your situation worsened after you found yourself in Greenwood the Great. You were captured after having gotten lost in the forests and brought before Oropher. As a survivor, he refused to believe your pleas of innocence, that you were born during a different time and played no part in the slaughter. He decides to make an example of you and orders your hair to be cut off. This was a horrific experience. Your hair was thick and fell past your waist. You took great care of it, styling it with flowers and what little you had for adornments. All of it was taken from you and you were put to work as a servant in his household.

🌿Oropher's son, Thranduil paid you no mind most of the time. The other times? That was when you saw another side to him. He was not overtly cruel, but he did not hesitate to throw hurtful barbs your way. You kept your head and endured. Having a roof over your head and decent food in your belly was more important, and you didn't know what kind of fate awaited one who insulted a prince of the realm.

🌿Once, during supper, he did go too far and your veneer cracked. You fled the dining room in tears. There was no apology, and you knew better than to expect one. However, the barbs stopped and all you got were icy glares.

🌿This continued until one fine day, evidence of your innocence came to light. Oropher learned you were born years after the Kinslaying and had nothing to do with the tragic events that unfolded in Doriath. The king, not wanting to be seen as unjust, apologized to you in front of his court. As for Thranduil?

🌿Thranduil avoided you, and when he could not do it, he avoided looking at you. It was a reprieve, a welcomed one, and you grabbed onto it with both hands.

🌿Then one day you found yourself being moved to better rooms, given better clothes, a handful of jewels, and even your few adornments. When you asked who was so kind, the servants refused to answer. All you were told was that you were to ask for anything you could ask for and that it would be given to you.

🌿 Despite this change in fortune, you kept to yourself, asking for very little and staying out of everyone's way. You did not trust the elves of Greenwood. Not them or their king or their crown prince. You were, however, all too aware of someone looking at you the whole time whenever you went about your day. When you turn, you'd find Thranduil looking away quickly, his cheeks turning bright pink.

🌿Then he came to you while you were in the gardens. He stumbled over his words, asking about your day, and whether your new accommodations were to your satisfaction. You were polite but cool, and could not get away from him fast enough.

🌿Little gifts would show by your door every morning. Little notes too. One of your gifts was an herbal hair tonic. The note that came with it encouraged you to use it, that it would make your hair grow faster.

🌿Thranduil will seek you out more often now. You kept up a wall, remembering the things he said and how he made you feel. Still, he was a lot kinder to you, introducing you to the other elves, and showing you around Greenwood.

🌿He would later offer to help you with your hair, when he came upon you in the garden, struggling with a braid. Frustrated and left with little choice, you accept his offer, albeit very reluctantly. He would take his time, weaving flowers and ribbons into your hair and telling you stories to keep you entertained.

🌿This too became a ritual, but a pleasant one. The two of you would go off into the gardens, and Thranduil would braid your hair while telling you stories. You find yourself looking forward to spending time with him. You finally open up to him, talking about your family, about your life. He would talk of Doriath, of what life was like under the reign of Thingol and Melian.

🌿He finally apologizes and asks for a chance to earn your forgiveness, for not believing you and treating you with little respect. You finally learn it was Thranduil who had you moved to your new chambers and had your belongings returned to you, and made sure you were looked after.

"Keep braiding my hair," you proposed, wanting him to put in the effort in earning your forgiveness, "And we will see."

#Thranduil #thranduil imagine #thranduil angst #Thranduil x reader #Angst #angst with a happy ending #The silm #the silm imagine #Asks #Requests #x reader #x reader insert #Reader insert request #my headcanons #thranduil headcanon #Writeblr #💫whimsy's headcanon

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

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Vows - Part 3

cw: consentual blood drinking, threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, edging, double penetration, polyamory, more tags will be added as the story continues

male vampire x afab reader

Word count: 5k

Vows Masterlist

It was all for intel. You kept repeating the phrase in your mind, over and over and over, like that might make you believe it.

Something had shifted last night. You couldn’t deny it.

You’d felt it in your gut but more than that, you’d proven it when on your report, you’d said absolutely nothing.

You’d lied to your family, to your kin, and why? Because he’d kissed you so softly. Because he’d let you inspect him on the odd chance it might ease your mind? Because he’d come up with schemes to try and ease your fear just a little? Because he’d offered you the gardener's house and made you laugh and made you hot cocoa but sent someone else up because he was so scared that he might make it worse?

The more you tried to rationalize it all away the more overwhelming it felt.

When you left your room there was another box outside your door topped with a bow and you almost screamed.

This was more than you could handle. You’d been prepared to be attacked and thrown in a dungeon and to be completely stripped of your dignity, but what you’d never prepared for was the onslaught of goodness.

You honestly preferred it when he’d been demanding that you kneel and practically cutting off the circulation in your hand. At least then you didn’t feel like the villain for hating him. For being here to destroy the little world he’d built here.

The unbidden thoughts solidified something in you, resolve hardening in your stomach. This wasn’t just their mission anymore. You needed to be sure you were doing the right thing before you did anything.

They’d earned that much. Of that fact you were certain.

A tap sounded at your window and you saw the unexpected return of your pigeon.

You opened it, welcoming the distraction.

“That for me?” you asked as you unwound the note from around his ankle.

It was a note from the hunters, the first correspondence you’d received since you got here.

You read it with a sinking feeling in your gut. It read:

Too dangerous, get out of there.

The sinking feeling wasn’t because of the potential danger, you realized, it was because you didn’t want to leave.

And, you supposed, you didn’t have to.

What were they going to do, come get you? They couldn’t set foot within these walls.

You simply refused. Whatever was going on here, you could handle yourself. Despite all the uncertainty in your head, that much you knew.

You wrote a quick refusal and not much more, once again leaving out anything else.

You weren’t sure why they wanted you out. Maybe they could sense your resolve crumbling, knew you weren’t up to the job, just like they’d feared. You’d had to argue and fight for months even to convince them to let you come.

But surely if they knew it would be like this they would’ve warned you. They’d certainly warned you about all sorts of other things, if vampires weaponized kindness then you’d know about it.

But you didn’t.

And so, instead, you were left floundering, desperately trying to find the trick in it. Because there must be a trick. If there wasn’t…

You headed downstairs to try and find someone. You weren’t even sure who you were looking for, you just knew that being alone with your thoughts was the last thing you needed right now.

It didn’t take long to find them. All three of your companions were milling about the kitchen, Oliver trying to snatch something out of Viv’s hands that she was holding high above her head while Rook watched, a fond smile planted firmly on his face.

He was the first to notice you entering the room, the other two too preoccupied with their battle over what looked like a pastry.

You sat down beside him and Rook gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head as you did.

He did it casually and you couldn’t help but appreciate it because by acting like it wasn’t a big deal, it made it feel like it wasn’t.

Vivian and Oliver did not appear to have received the memo, Vivian staring wide-eyed and elbowing Oliver between the ribs to make sure he hadn’t missed it while Oliver just grinned at you.

Rook looks at them incredulously. “Glad we can keep you two entertained.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’m just glad you didn’t scare them off.”

Vivian elbowed him again, less enthusiastically this time.

He took her distraction as an opportunity to snatch the food out of her hands and took off, barely a heartbeat passing before Viv was chasing him through the door.

Rook chuckled as they disappeared through the doorway. “Petyr needs to hurry back, I don’t know if I can survive on my own with them. I’m too old for all this.”

“Yeah?” you said, not willing to be outdone by the other two troublemakers in the house. “You too tired for them, old man?”

He shook his head disapprovingly, crinkles forming beside his eyes in amusement.

“Go chase them,” he said, nodding towards the door, “I need to rest my old bones, lest they crumble to dust.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Maybe. But I’ll be dramatic in a comfortable chair.”

You rolled your eyes once more before setting off to find your human companions.

You poked around for a while until finally, you stumbled upon Oliver. The chase had seemingly ended and instead he was sitting on the floor, knitting, just like he had been outside the throne room.

You broke him out of his concentrated trance by asking, “What’re you making?”

“This? It’s a sweater, or at least I hope it’ll be. My last two didn’t turn out too great. It’s for bat Rook. My attention span isn’t good enough for full-sized sweaters.”

“So you’ve seen him like that then? In bat form, I mean?”

“Oh yeah. He gets all snuggly when he’s a bat, it’s very sweet.”

You tried to picture it, a sweet little bat curled up on Oliver’s chest in a sweater that looked like a chessboard. It didn’t quite fit with the ominous image of him that you couldn’t fully shake.

“Maye someday I’ll see it,” you said, sounding far more wistful than you’d intended.

“I’m sure you will. Maybe he’ll have a fancy little sweater when you do.”

His focus jerked up from his knitting to focus on you, eyes widening in a look of realization. “Oh! Also, Viv had an idea. We noticed your relationship with Rook was progressing but you still seem hesitant and she thought maybe the first time you slept together I could be with you two. She thought it might make it easier, if I was there.”

Your face heated. “Vivian proposed this?”

“Yeah. She’s a schemer at heart. If you don’t want to it’s not a big deal I just thought the idea wasn’t half bad and I certainly don’t mind.”

“No, not a bad idea, I just… If it comes to that I think it would be nice. You being there.”

Oliver was so excited it almost scared you a little.

“Hell yeah,” he practically shouted, “I can’t wait. After Beatris left no one else here was willing to do stuff like this. Which isn’t a problem, obviously, I just kinda missed it. Oh, and if things get overwhelming just let me know, I’m more than happy to take all the attention. You know, to get it away from you.”

“Noted.”

Once Oliver started rambling it was sort of difficult to get him to stop. Eventually, you managed to sneak away, to think on his proposal.

The words kept swimming around your head.

It was too vulnerable, obviously it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any trepidation about it.

Sure, you felt guilty that you were giving in to the vampire, but you weren’t scared of this. It’s like a switch had flipped in you, like you’d accepted something.

You should listen to the note, get out now, before your loyalties tipped any further. But doesn’t your certainty that if you stayed the scales would eventually tip say something?

Maybe you shouldn’t leave at all.

Beyond the fighting with yourself and spirralling thoughts, your mind kept drifting back to the kiss between you and Rook.

Back to how it made you feel. The lack of control and yet feeling of security, the feeling of being connected.

You wanted to feel that again.

The kiss hadn’t just been a mistake, a weakness of the moment.

You wanted to do it again.

You’d spent your whole life training and learning and working and this seemed fun.

You sought out Oliver after that, understanding now why he’d been running through the halls that first day. There was no way to get anywhere in a timely manner without running.

You almost sprinted right into him, skidding to a halt as you saw him.

“I was looking for you,” you said as he greeted you with a smile.

His head cocked to the side. “You were? Why?”

“About what you said earlier, I think I’d like that. You being there, I mean.”

He tried and failed to hide his excitement. His poker face was functionally nonexistent. “Oh,” he said, feigning a casual, vaguely interested tone. “Like, in theory or in the near future?”

“Yeah, like in the near future. I don’t know. I’m still nervous, I’m not sure I’ll ever stop being nervous, but I want to do this.”

His nose scrunched up as he smiled, rocking a bit on his heels. “This is going to be so fun, you have no idea.”

Before Oliver had a chance to inform you, Rook was storming into the room. You tried to recall what you might have done to make him look upset this time but instead, he grabbed Oliver by the scruff of his shirt.

“Can you come here?” he said, yanking Oliver backward towards the door before he even had the time to respond. “I swear, I can’t leave you and Viv alone for five minutes.”

And then the door shut and you could hear any more of their conversation, hidden behind thick walls and a heavy door.

You sat patiently, fidgeting nervously. It almost felt like you were in trouble, despite Oliver clearly being on the receiving end of Rook’s frustration.

After what felt like an eternity, Rook poked his head through the doorway. “Is this right? Did you agree to this?”

“Are you going to pull me outside and give me a stern talking to if I say yes?”

You heard a low hiss of “I told you so,” come from behind the door.

He dragged Oliver back into the room by the scruff of his coat. “Don’t let this little scoundrel talk you into anything you don’t want to do, alright?”

“I won’t,” you reassured him. “Trust me, I think I can handle him.”

He eyed you both suspiciously and you could feel your heart flutter as his eyes softened, cocking his head a little, asking silently if you were really on board with Oliver's little plan.

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, trying desperately to hide how flustered you felt all of a sudden.

It wasn’t right at all. All the wrong feelings were surfacing. The fear and anger had almost entirely been dissolved by giddy nerves that left butterflies in your stomach and an incessant warmth that spread across your face right up to the tips of your ears.

He glanced between the two of you before sighing.

“I have to go talk to Viv, you two just… try not to cause any major problems while I’m gone.”

He wandered off, muttering to himself and glancing back at the two of you.

Oliver didn’t seem to care, excitedly taking hold of your hand and dragging you through the endless hallways you were slowly becoming familiar with.

He led you to Rook's bed and you sat there, stiff, back straight, like you had someone to impress. You supposed in a way you did.

He poked you between the ribs, looking up at you with a tight smile as he lounged comfortably on the bed.

“You seem nervous.”

“A little.”

“Just stop thinking so much, you’ll be just fine.”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“Then I’ll have to distract you,” he said before grabbing your arm and yanking you down into the bed.

You yelped a little as you fell, a noise which quickly turned into a fit of laughter as his mischievous hands tickled you.

Between bouts of laughter, you did your best to wrestle him, quickly giving up on your unheeded pleas for mercy.

If it weren’t for the element of surprise, he never would have gotten the drop on you. He was smaller than you and easy to get the drop on and you managed to squirm your way out of his grasp, launching your own attack on him in retaliation.

Finally, you won the battle, managing to pin him down on the mattress. Your hands trapped his wrists, restraining his devious fingers.

“Oh no, I’m at your mercy,” he said, putting all the dramatics into his voice that he could manage. “Is this when you ravage me?” He blinked up at you in faux innocence.

You rolled your eyes but leaned down to kiss him all the same.

Or, you kissed him as best as you could while you were both giggling.

Oliver seemed to decide this was a prime opportunity to launch a sneak attack and poked you in the ribs once more before tackling you and kissing you once more.

“I’m starting to think you don’t want me here at all.” You hadn’t even heard Rook come in but as you jerked your head towards him, you saw him leaning casually in the doorway.

He strode over to the bed and Oliver moved out of the way. As loud and excitable as he tended to be, he was quiet now, letting you be the center of attention.

Your thoughts drifted back to how he’d asked about this, saying it might make you more comfortable. You knew deep down what this was. It was a ploy from Oliver and Vivian to try and get you comfortable, to convince you to stay. They knew you liked them already, Rook was the only thing they saw in your way.

Right now, their plan didn’t feel half bad.

As soon as he reached the bed his mouth was crashing into yours, his patience from before dissipating.

The kiss was almost punishing, pushing you back towards the bed, your arms wrapped around his neck.

It was everything you remembered, everything you’d wanted to feel again. He was soft but firm, gentle but commanding.

You felt yourself losing control.

No, you felt yourself giving up control.

“You sure you want to do this?” he mumbled into your lips, refusing to pull away from you.

You nodded, not trusting your words right now.

He fought off a smile as he focused on kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin but being very careful of his teeth all the while.

And then he dropped to his knees,

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking down on him.

“Poor thing, has no one ever eaten you out before?

You both knew that wasn’t what you were asking but he couldn’t seem to pass up an opportunity to tease you. “You’re testing if I trust you,” you said as he looked up at you from his spot on the floor.

He just smirked. “Maybe. I can’t tell, who’s winning if you do trust me?”

He hiked up your skirts, nipping lightly at your thigh. You gasped at the feeling. “I don’t know, this feels a lot like winning. Do you always get on your knees so quickly?”

“If you think this was quick you should’ve seen how fast Oliver folded when he got here. I’m not sure he was even all the way through the door.”

A pillow came flying at him, thwapping him on the side of the head as you burst into a fit of giggles.

Rook shot the culprit a halfhearted angry look that was undercut by the smile tugging at his lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be here to help,” he asked, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly up and down your thigh as he scolded the man sitting behind you.

“I’m supposed to be here to make them less nervous. Do they seem nervous to you?”

He was right. You were grateful for Oliver’s presence, his demeanor making the affair seemed lighthearted.

Both of them proved to be incredibly calming forces, despite everything.

Nimble fingers reached up and hooked under the band of your underwear and you gasped a little as he pulled them down. It all suddenly felt very real.

You knew he could feel the shift in your mood, his hand reaching up to grab yours.

It was strangely endearing, watching him take control so gently, having to try and manage a delicate balance and take care of both of you. Something rose up in you and you wanted to take care of him. You tried to shoo the dangerous feeling away

“Wait.”

He looked up at you, those cloudy, dead eyes full of caution and patience.

“No biting, okay?” you said quietly, your words just for him.

“Of course not. And what do you say if you want to stop?” he asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Red.”

“There we go. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

And then he was gone, disappearing beneath the fabric of your dress.

Moments later you felt him lick through your folds, jerking a little at the sudden sensation. Oliver giggled behind you, seeming to find your jumpiness amusing.

Rook started out teasing, avoiding your clit except for a few bumps of it with his nose.

You went to tug on his hair or pull him closer, to ask for more, to beg him to stop teasing but he was unreachable, fully engulfed by the skirts of your dress.

It was a little frustrating, not being able to grab at his hair or see his face.

Oliver pulled you back into his chest, cooing at you as he laid you down.

“You look so pretty for us, Rook is missing out on the best view in the house.”

Rook seemed egged on by his words, the teasing finally coming to a merciful close as his tactics flipped, now seeming deadset on making you come as quickly as possible.

Oliver pulled you towards him so you were laying down on your back, your head resting in his lap. He cooed at you, telling you how good you were doing and how pretty you looked. It all started to bleed together.

You feel like you’re in a haze, grateful for Oliver’s grounding presence. His hands in your hair and his neverending talking kept you rooted to your body because you almost felt like you might float out of it, becoming a victim to sensation.

Your legs locked around Rook's head, taking what little control you had over him as you drew closer to the edge.

Oliver chuckled. “There you go.”

He took the movement as an encouraging sign, focusing all of his attention and refusing to stop the motion that had made you trap him against you.

Your back arched, Oliver’s soft hands stroking your face as you came undone. Your legs stayed locked around Rook's head, his hands gripping your thighs as your hips rose in waves, riding out your orgasm.

When you finally released him, he came out of the skirts looking disheveled, his hair a mess and panting, all the while smiling proudly up at you.

“You alright?” he asked with a cocky grin.

What an unfair question after what he’d just done to you. “You could say that.”

Rook grabbed Oliver’s legs and yanked him toward the edge of the bed. “You want a turn.”

He had already started to frantically unbutton his pants. “Please, yes, I do.”

Rook was still kneeling on the floor as Oliver kicked off his pants. “You alright with this?” he asked as Oliver’s painfully hard cock came bouncing up against his stomach.

You nodded with a giggle. “Cut the poor boy some slack, he looks like he might come if you breathe on him too hard.”

That earned you a hearty laugh from Rook and a half-joking glare from Oliver.

“I guess we’ll see.”

You had plenty of time to recover from your own orgasm, leaning against Oliver to watch as Rook firmly grasped the base of his cock before giving it a soft lick.

Now that there were no skirts in your way you could touch him. You ran your hands through his hair and gave him encouraging words, not unlike what Oliver did to you.

He was notably meaner to Oliver than he was to you. If you thought you were being teased, Oliver was practically being tortured.

He never got more than a few touches at a time. Anytime Oliver tried to get anything more he’d pull away entirely, not saying anything, just waiting.

Not that he really seemed to mind, despite all the irritated noises that kept escaping him. He seemed to thrive off of the attention regardless.

With one final lick from the base of his shaft after giving him painfully little, Rook pulled fully away.

Oliver whined, scrambling for something, anything, needing more.

“They got to come,” he said with a pout as he reached futilely for Rook.

“Well, it isn’t your first time with me. Also, I don’t think you’ve earned it. Too much scheming for my taste.”

“Come on, don’t be mean,” he whined.

You backed him up. “Yeah, don’t be mean.”

“Oh god, there’s three of you now,” Rook said with a groan.

Oliver giggled. “You’re outnumbered.”

“I was outnumbered before,” reasoned the vampire but Oliver took no mind of this, not willing to be deterred by something so silly as logic.

So Rook switched tactics, artfully snatching back control once more. “You think he’s earned it? Fine, I’m not stopping you.”

The implication was clear and you didn’t hesitate to answer what Rook had silently asked you. You grabbed Oliver’s face and kissed him.

Rook seemed more than happy to just watch for a while, sitting behind Oliver with a smile on his face that you kept catching glimpses of every now and again.

Oliver remained sandwiched between you as Rook removed his pants, something you were almost startled to realize hadn’t happened yet with him still fully clothed in juxtaposition to your states of undress.

You snuck some greedy glances at him as he undressed. He was certainly bigger than Oliver was, although he looked similarly close to coming undone.

He caught your eye during one of your glances and gave you a disarmingly genuine smile and a wink that made you giggle into Oliver’s mouth.

Oliver ground against you, his cock pushing against your clothed stomach. It was still slick with Rook’s spit, gliding against you as he moved.

Rook raised an eyebrow. “You sure you want to help him?”

You nodded, feeling like it was just as much for your benefit as it was for his.

Oliver guided his dick in place under the increasingly more and more frustrating skirts of your dress and as he did, Rook sunk abruptly into him, pushing Oliver forward into you. You gasped as he did, your walls that had been aching to be filled flexing around his cock.

It was a good call, having Oliver separate the two of you. He hadn’t explicitly asked but you both knew he’d led you there, he’d led you to every step of this. He didn’t need to give commands to be in control of the situation, you saw that now.

The separation made you feel safer, less on edge. You knew Oliver, knew he couldn’t do anything to you other than perhaps an irritating poke or two.

Despite the evergrowing trust you placed in Rook, he could still hurt you if he wanted to and the prospect would’ve been too much for you while you were here, floating, vulnerable.

Also, Oliver was notably smaller than Rook and you were kind of glad he was the one inside of you right now. You already felt overstimulated, you weren’t sure you could’ve taken him.

You have no idea how Oliver was managing, stimulated from both ends after being denied for so long.

Rooks thrusts controlled him completely, moving him in and out of you sharply. You got the sense that if you hadn’t been there, he would have been going even harder. Oliver certainly wanted him to, trying to push back with nowhere to go, trapped between the two of you.

“You’re being such a helpful little toy, aren’t you?” Rook hissed at Oliver.

He nodded and you kissed him again, one he accepted gladly.

You heard Rook chuckle at the sight. “You’re lucky your new friend is so sweet, I never would have helped you like this.”

Oliver’s moans started to become more desperate and Rook pulled him back, leaving you empty.

“Please, Rook. Please drink from me, I’ll be good,” he cried out.

Rook glanced over at you as if asking for permission. You gave him a little nod and he dove in immediately, burying his head in Oliver’s neck.

For a moment, Oliver thrashed, an instinctual push against the vampire as he broke skin.

It only lasted a moment. Then he did anything but, trying to pull Rook in even closer and revealing his neck as much as he could.

It lasted for a few minutes, Oliver with his hands tangled in Rook's hair, holding him there while Rook suckled from him, hips still rocking upwards as he did.

Rook’s skin flushed as he drank, like you could see the blood entering him, giving him life.

All the times you’d imagined a vampire feeding, you’d never pictured something like this. It was so intimate, almost sweet, the way they were entwined, connected.

A sense of yearning started to surface in you that you couldn’t quite manage to snuff out.

Rook pulled away, a trail of blood trickling down Oliver’s neck as he did. When he opened his eyes, you noticed they were brighter, a dark brown replacing the clouded-over eyes you’d grown accustomed to.

He quickly reached over to his bedside table, grabbing a bandage and setting it into place, pressing a quick kiss on it before burying his face in Oliver’s neck once more.

This time it wasn’t to drink. This time he opted to whisper quiet affirmations into his skin, telling him how well he did.

And then he turned to you.

The prospect of being cared for so gently suddenly seemed overwhelming. You drew back and he let you, his eyes soft and his expression anything but the hard shell he’d put on when you first came here

“We won’t get near you if you don’t want us to," he reassured you. "Just please stay. I’d rather you not be alone right now.”

You conceded that much, falling back onto the pillows on the opposite side of the bed as the pair

You noted how comfortable and safe Oliver looked. Rook just held him, making eye contact with you, a look that seems to say someday, if you want it, this could be you, safe in my arms.

A sinking feeling rose in your chest and you couldn’t tell if it was because you thought that could never be you or if it was because some part of you was still upset that someday it might be.

#terato #teratophillia #vampire x vampire hunter #vampire x reader #vampire x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #the whole time I was writing this I couldn't stop thinking about that stupid reddit post lol #my (900M) subs have unionized

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