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acid-ixx · 2 months ago

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to you, my greatest passion (soft yandere! batfam x traumatized! reader oneshot)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: allusions to stockholm syndrome, flawed relationship (they have no concept of boundaries) and mild descriptions of injuries and torture (not by the batfam). read until the end for an author's note. happy 4k followers to me :)) uh leave comments if u like this type of analysis and want to see more. i had no direction for writing this. please don't let this flop huhu i might delete this since i don't like it

as much as i love my angst, we all need something soft at times, and moments with yan!batfam with a reader who is absolutely fucking broken from their past that the mere implication that someone could love them is enough to let them melt into whoever's chest they lay upon that night.

just, hurt/comfort. one that heals the soul in its overly possessive embrace. the same way chapped lips peck softly on your cheeks, muscled arms caress your fragile, shivering body, and legs tangle upon yours in a cacophony of warm, cozy blankets.

where as the longer time passes in the manor, the more you learn to love. to let go of the painful memories your tormenters left you. to allow past scars to heal into a mere visage of what once was streaks coated in blood. your family acts as your new abductors, yes, but how could you hold your freedom against them when it is them that comfort you from drowning through the deepest depths of your nightmares?

nightmares of the past, of the knives that break through your already gashed skin, or the ropes that burn through bruises and laceration— every time you wake up crying, with tears running down your cheeks and a pained cry; a recollection of the torture you were subject to, it is them that come running to your room not a moment after.

it's bruce's tall, domineering form that crumbles into soft, snug pillows for you. your father arms that punches criminals into prison become the shoulder you lean on. calloused fingers rub your cheeks, wiping away your tears, holding your face in his palms like you're the most fragile thing on earth— and you are. every time he looks at your dampened eyes and sniffling nose, he gets reminded of how lonely he was as a child, who lost his parent too young to the cruelty of the world, of gotham and her unyielding coldness. and when he reminisces, he begins to cage you in his arms a tad bit tighter, begins to comfort you longer and softer than he has ever done with anyone else, as if he is reassuring himself. it is with you that his vulnerability, that fear of loss becomes all too stronger. and every time you cry a bit longer, your hold on his sleeves becoming unyielding, does bruce become crueler in his pursuit of fighting crime, a lesson to himself that the people he punishes are those with hands capable enough to harm you, his precious, his pearl that glints throughout the moonlight.

whenever your father is unavailable, it's dick who runs to you, with all the intention to provide you comfort. it's him who calls you his baby bird, as he reassures you that you're no burden in his eyes every time you scream in terror as your sleep. it's him who loves to drown you in his affection, always near, always close, never far and never too much. physically, he's the most doting to a fault. tender, yet tight were his hugs. his kisses to your cheeks and your forehead always linger, as if hesitant to release itself from its rightful place. it's a testiment to how much he loves you, how he's incapable of separating himself from you. god, he loves you so much he wishes he'd just melt right into your skin, so that you actually finally realize how you're the most important thing in the world to him. you, his baby bird. if he had met you sooner, quite earlier, right after his parent's have died, then maybe he could've managed his anger better, could've learned to cope with you through the battles you both fought. it's with you that dick feel unbearably euphoric, ready to spill his love to the point where tears consume his eyes and his head laid on your chest refuses to detach itself.

jason isn't familiar with what warmth feels like, not anymore. but when he sees your hapless state, he sees a reflection of himself in that abandoned warehouse. broken, defiled, hurt. with nothing to comfort you from the cold other than the ropes that burn through your skin and the adrenaline that runs through your veins. he forgots what solace feels like, what it means, but through your shared trauma does jason learn. he learns to talk to you, with you, learns to pinpoint each and every emotion he felt at the time, what you felt inside that putrid basement. he learns to manage his grief because he doesn't want to anger himself looking at you, at just how much justice can only serve so many. the longer you talk to jason, the more he becomes softer, yet hungrier. he learns how to hold you in a way a brother learns to hold his baby sibling for the first time when conceived. he relearns the warmth he felt, like when he was finally able to be good enough to be the successor to the title of robin, when he felt you drool on his chest when you trusted him enough to sleep in his room. yet this time that feeling was accompanied with that ominous, distracting essence. one that makes jason's knuckles crack and have him prepare his guns, as he discovers that you can never truly erase the past. and even though it might take years for him to be your ideal brother, he could at least be your sole protector.

then there's tim, who never truly had the opportunity to develop that deeper sense of love he wanted to feel until he was officially adopted into the wayne family right after his parents' death. don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and dad, and so does he loves his current family— but it's obsession that drives him nonetheless. the need to prove himself, to gather information about everyone to know who they truly are; beyond that there's nothing more than shallowness, a neverending hole he can't satisfy. but with you? oh god, you. to tim, you're his everything. you devour his being whole. with you, there's always something new. the need to track every single thing about you leads him into this cycle of want and need that coagulates into desire, into drive. every time you smile, or laugh, or frown, he gains newer intel about you, one he loops into the deepest crevices of his brain at a constant, you are his constant. but staying right behind you can only do so much. and as he sits right beside you in bed, awkwardly comforting you through the ways he mirrored off from his brothers: a sloppy kiss to your knuckles, a joke cracked here and there, and wiping your eyes and nose with his sleeves; tim learns that stalking can only do so much. he learns what it feels like to be needed for emotional connection and nothing else and that only further motivates him to be perfect for you, and to be with you, his sibling, more often than to simply live right under your nose.

and damian, your baby brother, who's unsurprisingly the one who sleeps in your room, or has you sleep in his room, the most. damian tells himself he's incapable of love, of showing it or reciprocating it. but for you, he tries, and like jason, he learns. he discovers just how depraved both of you are when it comes to love. it enlightens you both and it makes damian feel a deeper sense of connection with you than anyone else. with you, he feels like a child: vulnerable, yet uncaring and free, like the true meaning of being a robin, one the soars through the skies with no grandfather or mother or league to watch your every step as their successor. all the times you cry, he silently sobs with you, holding your cheeks down to his level with scarred palms. silent, yet comforting, he'd allow his smaller form to simply become your teddy bear whilst he whispers consolations. about how strong his older sibling is, how precious you are for being comfortable with him to speak of your problems, how you're everything to damian just as he wishes to be the world for you. it makes you think you're more immature that him, it makes him grateful that he has you. even though he doesn't say it, he shows through actions just how truly important you are whenever he draws a sword towards his enemies, thinking about you and his unsaid promises.

nights where you're reminded of that solitary confinement, of the darkness that creeps into your vision and the voices that pierce through your ears. nights where you feel you've exhausted yourself of hope, where what was once warmth that hugs your heart is now that frigid, yet burning spikes that penetrates into the confidence that you'll somehow, someday, run away from that hellhole— those were nights you thought you'd never live with proper sleep. but as one or two of them holds you in their embrace whenever your nightmares consume your being, you're slowly allowing your established walls to fall apart, all for the mere implication of their love.

who would save you, if not for them? their hushed whispers of consolation, hands that wrap around your figure, and fingers that knead your cheeks provide you that deep sated comfort you always wanted. the sleeves they use to wipe away both saltine liquid and snot, to slowly silence your blubbering rambles, your inconsolable crying; it's warmer than the basement you used to be locked in as a child, with dripping faucets the only source of your water— they saved you once before, who's to say they won't save you a thousand times more?

every time you feel like crying, every time that familiar faulty tap in your eyes begins to dampen against ashen skin, it's them that asks you if you're alright. even if you grit your teeth, even if you seeth or bite or beat or punch or kick, to punish yourself, to cope through the trauma, to not feel nothing.

every time pain begins to sear through your skin, it's your grandfather, father, brothers and sisters that huddle around you and tell you 'you're safe here, in the manor, with us'.

every time they spend hours, ditching patrol nights, cooking your comfort food, reading your favorite books, watching movies for hours, ignoring your assigned sleep schedule, kissing your scarred hands gently, reverently, cuddling your form against their strong ones as a silent promise that with them, there's nothing to harm you no more— you'd feel lighter every time, a tad happier, even. slowly, but surely, melting against the confines of your adorned cage and the embrace of your loving captors.

every time they help you heal, it makes you forgive, and it makes you forget their prior kidnapping in return of building new memories with them, in a safer haven, with nobody to hurt you any longer, with nobody to bash your head against concrete walls, to punish you. you who is underserving of the circumstances bought upon you back then.

safe, a word you thought you'll never feel, a word you didn't even know existed in the crevices of your heart. but it is with them that you slowly start to associate safe with family.

the family that you've come to love and cherish in your own imperfect ways, the same way a stray dog becomes too loyal to a passerby when given bones for leftovers every day.

but you're not an animal, and you're not a pavlovian dog meant to be conditioned. no, you're their baby, their love, their treasure and their only one. the love they feed you exceeds beyond leftovers. only you can devour them wholly, the same way they cloak your world in the love that fills that neverending pit in your heart.

you're not biologically related to any of them in any way, too. yet it was all a matter of coincidence that they stumbled upon you.

but really, past is past.

then is then.

now it's just you and them.

it's you, with them.

just your family. overbearing, overprotective, overpowering.

but nothing is always over to you. their love isn't too much. how could you tell yourself it's too much? not when you were never given a basis of what is too much. how is one too much when you were never even given enough?

trust is built upon a foundation of connecting with others who can relate with you one way or another, who can see past through your flaws and mistakes— it's a bond that precedes mere acquaintanceship.

you might've met them later than everyone else, but it's you that completes them.

you're the puzzle that completes the family photographs, the goal for bruce to continue his legacy as batman and to ward off all evil, the inspiration for dick to be that aspiring hero everyone sees him to be, the reason jason begins to reform himself for your sake, the purpose for tim's endless pursuit of knowledge, the muse for damian's painting, the subject for his love he thought was no more, the ambition for steph's prolongation despite her countless of failures, the motivation for barbara to seek out all the criminals who have harmed you, the influence for cass to be stronger to protect you, the catalyst for duke to use his metahuman abilities for good, to take out those who walk in broad daylight, as if they weren't involved in your past tortures.

you're everything that they are.

their sunshine and moonlight, their companionship and loneliness, their pain and pleasure, their yin and yan.

their greatest passion.

a/n: hii guys erm. this is so sudden and also counts as a rant but yk... i feel like quitting this blog but at the same time not. it's just, i feel like writing has been more of an obligation than anything else. it doesn't help the fact that i've only been getting interaction if i were to actually produce something good. beyond that, it feels like people are expecting more of me. i get it, updates are sporadic, they appear in the blink of an eye when you least expect it, but at the same time it's just hard juggling what i want to write and what i feel like i need to write. this blog was primarily to post about my thoughts and to talk to people but lately, every time i open this app to write, i feel these plethora of thoughts and expectations telling me that if i don't do well enough then people would merely ignore whatever i post or it's just bad by standards. and yes i'm grateful for all the people supporting my writing, but at the same time i'm lead to a cycle of me losing my motivation to continue writing. ugh idk what im doing anymore help :((

tl;dr: will i stop writing? no, but at the same time i don't know. someday, i may deactivate this account out of impulse if i feel too much, or not. it depends hehe.

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 8 months ago

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[Simon got a flu]

Yes, Simon, who is always proud of his immune system and strong-built body, got a damn flu.

You watch him take a tissue and sneeze the 10000 times today.

”‘m alright.” He mumbles when he notices you knit your eyebrows and staring at him.

“yeah yeah you’re alright huh?” you poke his forehead “Look how your skin reddened and scraped below your nose.”

“not a big deal.”

He takes another tissue to blow his nose, but he frowns when the tissue touches his skin doesn’t escape your attention, so you go take an ointment from the medkit and come back to his side.

“sit still, okay?” you command before you start smearing it on his skin.

you can feel his eyes lock on your face the whole time, so when you finish, you don’t let go of his face.

“Anything on my face, Si?”

you watch his eyelashes flutter, and those beautiful chocolate eyes soften, without his usual tension in them.

“jus’ think yer beautiful,” Simon responds softly.

“I know.” You giggled.

“How about me?”

“You are...” You feign that you are contemplating, before shoving him playfully “You’re an idiot, go get some sleep now, handsome.”

You can’t move even an inch.

Simon insists on having you sleep with him, or he won’t stay in bed obediently and have the rest he needs.

His arms locked tightly around your waist, his head buried in your chest, and you could feel his hot breath fanning on your skin.

You wriggle out of his embrace as softly as you can, you really need to go to the bathroom now, and you turn around and have a glimpse of Simon, seeming still asleep. Nice.

After using the toilet, You wash your hands before you open the door, what you don’t expect is bumping into a brick of the wall, well, a brick of man.

“Jesus, Simon.” you yelp “Why do you get up?”

“I thought’ you’re gone...” His voice is still hoarse from the slumber, but you can sense the fear inside.

“I'm here, baby, no one will take me away from you, okay?”

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him back to the shared bed.

“now rest, I will always be at your side.” you place a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“Hmmm...”

With a long groan, he shoves his face back into your chest, arms snaking and caging you in his hug again.

After a few minutes, his breaths become steady again, indicating he’s back to dreamworld.

The anxious and unsafe emotion on his face when you open the bathroom door has long gone, he wore a face mask to prevent you from getting infected too, but you swear his mouth is slightly agape under the cover, the thought makes you grin and chuckle in your mind.

Returning his hug by wrapping your arms around his shoulder, you drift into your dream.

The chirping of birds outside the window awakes Simon.

The headache and running nose seem to disappear after a proper rest, but he notices you aren’t beside him, so he quickly gets up from the bed, only to find you cradling a box of tissue, glaring at him with dead eyes while a pile of used tissue is beside you.

Looks like it’s his turn to take care of you today.

#cod imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you

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milksnake-tea · 3 months ago

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━━ say you still dare to dream .

Sunday has lost everything. His status, his home, his sister, all of it has slipped through his fingers, all for a failed attempt at salvation. Now imprisoned and destined to live his life in shameful shadow, you, his former subordinate, appear to offer him one last chance of redemption.

sunday x gn!reader

contains: aftermath of 2.3, depression, sunday at his lowest

word count: 1.5k

a/n: depressed sunday is my favorite sunday. like damn bro you got BROKEN ig this is what being rammed by a train 8 times does to a man... ANYWAYS. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY THIS IS JUST ME DOING SOME WRITING PRACTICE WITH BEING DRAMATIC hunches over and dies

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina

“I can only allow you a few minutes at most,” says the woman in purple.

A devil in velvet, that was what they called her. Although she may not look like much - from a distance, you’d mistake her as yet another filthy rich vacationer of Penacony - up close, her snake-like eyes and elegantly poised stature, always ready to strike unsuspecting prey, told you just how dangerous she was.

Lady Bonajade, the Stoneheart of Credit and the most deranged loan shark the galaxy had to offer. She who does the impossible and creates miracles for the price of one’s livelihood.

She, who is currently the master who holds the life of the fallen Oak Family Head in her perfectly manicured hands.

You meet her chilling gaze with steeled eyes. With a deep breath, you force down the lodge in your throat.

“I understand.”

Jade smiles. It is neither threatening nor comforting, although you cannot help but feel unsettled by her calm amusement.

“Most of the Family has turned their back on Mr. Sunday,” she comments, crossing her arms and tapping one nail against her arm. “Why haven’t you, I wonder? Surely, a mere subordinate wouldn’t be so loyal to a traitor of this degree.”

You know better than to answer her. After all, all of her questions are rhetorical - tests. She already knows their answers, she just wants to hear them come from your lips.

But you don’t give her that satisfaction. Your silence is answer enough.

You walk past her and come before a heavily armored vault door. A bit much, in your opinion, for a man who has spent the majority of his life asleep. But he is also the man who had taken control of the Asdana system and nearly ascended into Aeonhood, so this level of security is to be expected.

Hundreds of locks and gears turn before the doors open with a hiss and a billowing of smoke. With a mental prayer to Xipe for strength, you step into the dark cell.

There’s little to no light in the small room, leaving you to wonder how Sunday had managed to stay sane all this time. You already know the cells are essentially soundproof, and with so little light, the Family’s prisoners were shut off from the rest of the world and their senses.

The brief rustle of chains catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to the iron throne at the center of the room.

Oh, how far he has fallen.

Once gleaming gold has lost its luster, reflecting not sympathy nor love like you had known them to, but defeat and a resigned acceptance. Fair skin has become drained and faded like that of a corpse. Feather-like hair, once so meticulously cared for, is ruined and frayed.

Bound are the hands that would never raise against another, and shackled are the wings that have never known flight. Caged is the bird who has known no other home; only now, his gilded shackles have become sullied, ugly, disdainful.

He is hollow, empty in every sense of the word - drained of what little vitality he once had.

“Sir,” comes your whisper. He doesn’t respond.

Your footsteps are heavy as you approach. Sunday’s head is bowed - something his pride would’ve never allowed back in the day.

Once upon a time, you had found his arrogance annoying, hypocritical even. Yet at the same time, it was endearing, knowing that even the perfect and saint-like Sunday had his faults. In a sense, it had brought him down to earth, it had made him human.

Seeing him like this, so despondent and defeated, makes you long for the days where he’d scoff at the IPC or make back-handed compliments for his own sick pleasure.

“Sir,” you repeat. You stop before him, and kneel down to one knee.

Sunday’s eyes flick to meet yours, before dropping down to his lap, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. Out of guilt, or out of scorn, you don’t know.

“Why have you come?”

Your heart aches at his voice. It cracks from the days without use, deeper than his typical chirp.

“I am a sinner, a traitor to the Family.” Not once does he meet your gaze again as he speaks. “Visiting me…”

He exhales.

“You should leave.”

“I won’t.”

His hands clench from where they’re bound to the arms of his throne. Briefly, annoyance flashes over him, before he lets it wash away with a slump of his shoulders.

“It would be easier if you just- left me here,” he says painstakingly. “I am of no use to you anymore - if anything, I am a stain. Abandoning me… is the logical thing to do.”

“You and your logistics,” you sigh. “Did it never once occur to you that I cared for you as a person, and not just as my superior?”

His eyes are shaking. Sunday’s expression is pained, like that of a grieving mother.

“Why?” he asks again, his face straining as he tries to understand. “Why are you here?”

Your answer is simple. “To free you.”

Bitterly, the corners of his lips twitch in a cynical chuckle.

“You of all people should know that I was not meant for freedom,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “That is what you believe. Lady Bonajade and I agree that you deserve to have this chance.”

“Lady Jade, huh?” Resentment flashes in his irises as he scoffs. “So you intend to coerce me into accepting charity from the IPC?”

Hurt pangs at your chest and you flinch. “That isn’t-”

“Spare me the concern,” Sunday spits, turning his head. “I may have fallen, but I still have my pride. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave.”

For a moment, you are speechless. Then you are indignant, and you rise slightly, your brows furrowed.

“Why are you so willing to accept your fate?” you ask, almost angrily.

Sunday exhales. “What else am I expected do?”

“This can’t be how your story ends." Your fist balls up the fabric of your pants in its grip. “Locked away, isolated from the rest of the world - that can’t be what you want. It is too cruel a fate for you.”

For you, who loved humanity so deeply.

“Tell me,” you say, gazing up at the man who had torn his skin and carved his heart for the people. “Tell me you want to be freed, and I will do so. I’ll take care of everything. All I need is for you to say that you want it.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers after a moment of silence. “Why, for me…”

“What is there to understand?”

“This is unreasonable,” he starts.

“Not for me, it isn’t,” you say softly. “If it’s for you, nothing is unreasonable.”

His voice raises, trembling upon its crumbling pedestal, panic seeping into every word. “I don’t deserve that kindness - that mercy. I am a sinner, I am a traitor, I am-”

“You are a man worth saving.”

Sunday’s eyes fly open. He stares at you, eyes wide with surprise, his lips parted as to say something, only for the words to die on his tongue.

Your neck is beginning to hurt from how long you’ve been looking up at him, but you push the pain aside.

“The Sunday I knew was kind and gentle,” you say, subconsciously leaning forward. Pent-up emotions, cumulated through the years, begin to bleed into your voice, weighing it down. “He always looked out for the weak, and cared when no one else did. He put others before himself, and even if he was a little arrogant, he was selfless.”

“No,” Sunday protests weakly. “I am not- You- I-”

“You are so much more than you allow yourself to be.”

Rising from the floor, your knees aching slightly, you gently take the face of the fallen angel in your hand. Cradling him like glass, you force him to look at you, to look one of the many he’d betrayed in the face, and see the love for him despite it all.

“Sunday, do you wish for freedom?”

For the many years you’ve worked under him, his eyes have always been a cold gem, calm and unfettered. Never have you seen them glossy with tears, threatening to break at any moment.

You see fear and desire clashing as he grapples for the first time, a choice not for the people, but for himself. You see the beliefs that have been molded into him beginning to crack. You see the caged bird gaze at the world beyond his bars, and for the first time, want to soar beyond them.

Sunday’s lips open and close as he struggles to find the right words to say.

“Where will I go?” he asks instead, tearing his gaze away. It is answer enough.

You smile softly.

“Anywhere you desire.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #hsr sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail sunday x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️

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syefiles · 4 months ago

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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sylus : midnight stealth, but what should've happened. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: really sadistic sylus. not accurate scene (rewritten some parts) fingering, the reader is seen as a female and has a pussy, dom! sylus, kissing. lmk if i missed anything. 𝐚/𝐧: requests/suggestions open in my ask-box [] hiyaa ! i missed writing on here. lately sylus has had me in a choke hold T_T here's me coping with my obsession with a new fic. thank you, and enjoy :)

You were home alone with the bird twins, Sylus' most important and capable helpers whose posts are his house. You were almost going to shake your head to get more ideas on how to invade the vampire and get the brooch.

It wasn't fair. A ruler of a nation against a pitiful hunter who just happened to waltz straight into his own personal hell. "Stop worrying your pretty little head. Boss might be scary and sophisticated, but if you play your cards right, you can achieve your goal." Luke spoke from the dinner table, while Kieran was sat on it. "But then again, you only have an hour left in your deal. Make it count."

You sat up from the couch, finally picking yourself up with enough confidence to face the final boss. Luke and Kieran put up two signs, one with tiger claws and another with a peace sign. "Good luck, you stray." Kieran remarks.

The moon was beautiful. Although the sun never shined in this dimension, it was still a sight for sore eyes. You approach the heavy door decorated with expensive vintage handles, that might cost a few thousand back at home.

You tightly grip the evol-sealing handcuffs and a tranquilizer gun, giving yourself a few imaginary pats on the back. You open the door, seeing the smoke-headed crow resting on his headboard, as vulnerable as a dove. His breathing was steady, hands remained warm atop his covers. He could've just asked me to tuck him in.

You approach his figure quietly, as if cautious of a landmine on the wooden floors. Your leg climbs on his mattress, sitting down gently. Your mouth whispers his name, "Sylus, Sylus?" When you saw his chest still remained steady, you successfully cuffed his heavy hand on his headboard.

"This is what you get for toying with me." You muttered under your breath and the same volume you did when you whispered his name. You set the gun down, while you inspect his red and black robe, He must have hidden it here.

Your hands barely touched the fabric, his free hand successfully trapping your wrist. His eyes furrow, failing to recognize your features at first. You stare at his face in shock, like a cat trapped in a glass box.

"Showing up uninvited at this hour, want me to tell you a bedtime story?" He asks, clearly sarcastic and angry. Your shocked expression drops, "Actually..." Your two hands cage him in, closing the space between you. You could see his face so distinctly from here.

"You should be able to figure out what's going on here." His eyes stare at you, almost burning holes into yours. "These handcuffs have you helpless. No matter how powerful you are, you can't do anything for an hour." You taunt, successfully catching your hunt.

"Really? What do you intend to do now that I've become your prey?" He asks, intrigued. Your right hand detaches from the plush of his headboard, putting out your hand. "Where's the brooch?"

He smirks, "Help yourself." fully offering his semi-naked body to you. While patting down his sides and pockets, you list all of the things he had done to you once you stepped foot into the N109 Zone. "No ordinary person would do that. So..." Your hands stopped their advancements, completely staring at him now, he stares back.

"Don't tell me you're doing all of this because you like me."

Sylus laughs at your misunderstanding. He did all of this for his own benefit, he only desired to resonate with you and nothing else. Yet, fate chose the hard path for you two. "Clearly, you read too many fairy tales." You ignored his words and resumed back to searching.

Your hands search under the collar of his robe, "Does my answer really matter to you?" He asked. "That doesn't matter now. I won!" You exclaim, using your thumb to flip the coin up into the air, and catching it with your hand.

Sylus let a few moments of silence pass, trying to savor what little feeling of triumph you have left. "Don't tell me..." Your expression changes into a frown, "I won't go back on what I promised you." Sylus sits up, his back no longer leaning on the bed. "This was quite the thrilling experience for you huh, sweetie?" His evol submerged the metal of the handcuffs, causing it to deteriorate.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly try to get up from the bed, but he flips you over by your thighs, completely laid down. You try to retaliate with your hand, but he catches it almost immediately with his. "You're pretty good at running away."

He takes the gun by your side and inspects it himself. "You were gonna use this on me?" He almost laughs, staring at your shocked and vulnerable expression. "Yes, just like that." He says, aligning the gun on your cheek, running it down and up your soft skin. "You're so beautiful when your face contorts in fear, kitty."

He lets out a low laugh. "And disobedient kittens get punished," He lightly slaps the gun on your cheek. He traces it down to your chin, lifting it up to level his eyes with yours. "I-I won fair and square!" You respond, only receiving a heavier slap with the gun on your cheek.

"Bad girls don't talk back." His left eye glows but quickly settles down once your hands reach into his robe, feeling his hard abs and warm skin. Sylus raises an eyebrow, curious at your moves. You slip one side of his robe off, exposing his neck. You grab onto his shoulders, licking and nipping at his neck.

He lets out a groan, while a hand slips up from your inner thighs and into your panties. They're soaked, he thought. A finger hooks on your panties, sliding them to the side, his middle and ring fingers toying with your clit, rubbing circular motions on it. Your tongue slows down, letting out exasperated moans here and there. "Sylus-"

His hand slaps your clit, making you jolt in response. "Try that again, sweetheart." He stops his fingers from moving, waiting for your reply. "Sir..." You mutter, two fingers entering you. Your arms shake on his shoulders from his lengthy fingers bullying themselves into your sopping cunny.

"Good-fucking-girl." Each word came with a curl and a thrust from his fingers, making you go ballistic. He was nimble and skilled with his hand, while two were inside, his thumb was working magic on your puffy clit. Your mouth didn't stop leaving love bites all over his neck, while he kisses all over your boobs and collarbones.

"Such a pretty face." He says, admiring your sweat and small tears collecting at your waterline. You let out small moans and whimpers from the pace his fingers were jolting in and out inside of you. "Gonna cum for me?"

He asks, your cunt pulsates around his fingers and they grow tighter each curl at your g-spot. "Mmhm-mhp!" Your hand covers your mouth, cautious of all of the noise you're making. Sylus' head lowers, "Come on, be loud for me, darling." he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear, that action alone was enough to send you over the edge.

"S-Sir, 'm cumming- oh fuck!" You exclaim, finally letting go of your hand on your mouth, Sylus quickly kisses you while you make a mess of his fingers. He didn't slow down, letting you ride out your orgasm.

He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two. You lay there, disheveled. "Look so pretty f'me, hm?" He grabs a towel from beside the bed and wipes off the residue and your essence. Your eyes close, you were too tired to even process anything at this point.

Sylus sets down the towel and grabs the blanket, wrapping you two in it, spooning you from behind. "B-but Sylus, what about you?" He smirks, grateful you asked him that question.

"You can pay me back at the banquet tomorrow."

©syefiles 7/19/2024 - do not copy, translate, modify my works.

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harmonysanreads · 6 months ago

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“A little bird told me that today is a certain someone's birthday.”

You feel the distinct prickle of two fangs halt halfway through the curve of your throat, a breath stuttering against the now marred skin. The tassels of Aventurine's earning tickles your nape, before his lips replace its unsought touches, soothing over the bite.

“I don't quite recall this,” he drawls upon your neck, gloved fingers slide up from the plush of your thighs and slant against your waist ; a clear message. “Being the resting place of wanton birds.”

You heart kicks against your ribcage as the implications of his words soak into your brain. Your eyes connect with enigmatic swirls when you swivel with a gasp, “It's just one little bird, Aventurine.”

He hums, a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, reaching out and failing to grasp his eyes. You feel his other arm wrap around your abdomen and tugging you closer closer closer— until not even whimsical air can intervene in your moment. For a time insignificant compared to the expanding cosmos, he leers and he waits — for you to stumble and forfeit your fortune to him. You've observed this game unfold many times, which is why, you don't so much as blink in the face of his scrutiny.

Aventurine tilts his head, the golden strands that frame his face shift in stride, “It's ‘one little bird’ for now, my jewel. Soon, it'll fly to-and-fro and invite its companions. One bird will become two birds, then three, four, five — until this flower of mine will be torn to shreds.”

Your skin erupts in pins and needles where the blonde's hand rests, the teases of pain make you lean your head against his chest in reflex, but they don't coax pained breaths to escape your lips. Your eyes gloss over upon capturing the dimming orbs heralding the colors of a bygone lineage. You feel as though you were lost in a dark landscape, with a shadowed fox breathing down your neck, claws already sunk midway — but you don't feel like the struggling rabbit, like a prey.

Your palm cradles Aventurine's face, “That's why we keep guns below our pillows, isn't that correct?”

The phantom finally reaches his eyes, his grin spreads across his face and the sun casts aside the darkness from the forest. Aventurine answers your query by tackling you with a flurry of kisses, you feel him at every corner of your body, grasping at every crevice of your soul — but it's not enough, neither for him nor for you.

When the intensity of his advance wanes momentarily, you sneak your hand past his grip to rest atop his chest, “Tell me your wish,” this time his heart revolts against the confines of bone, yearning to be freed and caged into your palm. “What gift do you want for your birthday?”

Aventurine chuckles, though it sounds quite strained this time. His fingers encircle your wrist and press your hand further on his chest for a moment (his shirt does little to mute the rapid marching of his soul) before he drags it to his face, his lips ghost over your pulse point.

“You don't think me to be that greedy, do you?” the humorous lilt of his voice prompts a smile to bloom on your face, too. He sighs as though he breathes in the gardens of heaven, lips firmly pressed to the beat of your existence.

“How can I ever wish for anything more when I have the whole world in my hands?” his eyes twinkle, hugged by a smile. They remind you of autumn sunsets blending into an awestruck ocean, before disappearing behind nightfall.

And just like them, you embrace and merge into one another, as well.

Happy birthday to the luckiest, prettiest, Aventurine <3

#aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #yandere imagines #yandere #hsr #aventurine fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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cloudcountry · 1 year ago

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SUMMARY: A handful of TWST characters that I headcanon have not had their first kiss yet and you kissing them for the first time.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: riddle and idia and azul are obvious but i feel like i need to explain jade and floyd. they're clearly emotionally detached from most people and probably scared off anyone that might remotely be interest in (even though if they can be scared off, the twins would probably find them boring anyway) so they haven't kissed anyone yet in my silly little head. thats all!!

i was listening to cherry wine by hozier while writing floyd's part so if its softer than usual that's why OOPS

the asexual in me loves writing about hesitant physical intimacy leave me alone :C

Riddle Rosehearts feels his hands shaking as you stare, eyes so calm and hopeful that makes his heart lurch. He doesn’t know how to give you what you want without curling in on himself and becoming flustered. It’s unbecoming of him to cower like this, but he can’t help it. your hand against his cheek, the other one resting on his shoulder, your faces so close together. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s supposed to just know.

“You don’t have to know,” you whisper, and you sound so certain that his heart flutters like a caged bird, “Every person is different. Everyone has a different feel to their kiss, and I’m glad I get to help you discover yours.”

He can’t breathe.

“Will you allow me?” you murmur, tilting your head the slightest bit and oh, he knows what's coming and he doesn’t want to stop it.

“Please.” he breathes, slamming his eyes shut, “Kiss me.”

Azul’s shaking hands find their way to your hips as if they were always meant to be there, pressed against your pants and brushing against the hem of your shirt. He sucks in a breath as your arms are draped around his neck, like a blanket of love coating him in warmth. His body does feel impossibly hot, and he wonders for a moment if you truly are magical.

His mouth feels dry so he wets his lips, and when your eyes flicker towards them at the movement he almost dies.

“Azul, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” you murmur, softly and with so much understanding. It’s frustrating, how Azul wants every part of you and you’re willing to wait for him. You’re too good for him.

“I want to.” he whispers, pleading in a way that only someone as powerful as him can, “I want to kiss you, so please—”

Azul talks too much. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is he. Maybe that’s why you shut him up and replaced his greedy pleas with the sound of soft kissing, but then again, Azul doesn’t need to know what other reasons you had for kissing him. The only reason he needs is your love.

Jade does not understand why it’s such a shock to you that he has yet to be kissed. You have seen him in his merform, you have fought him in his merform, and yet your brain cannot wrap around the concept that people find him terrifying. Really, you are an amusing one.

“The merpeople my age were scared of me, pearl.” he chuckles politely as you gape at him from across the Mostro Lounge table he seated you at hours before, “I had yet to be in a romantic relationship until you.”

“But you’re so handsome.” you huff, and it looks like you’re pouting, “Your peers have no taste.”

“Ah, or mayhaps your taste is an acquired one, my dear.” he smiles his closed-eyed smile, and revels in the amused snort his response elicits.

“We should kiss then.” you blurt, and Jade’s eyes fly open in surprise. You’re leaning across the table with shimmering eyes and a huge smile like you can’t wait to kiss him.

How peculiar.

“Do you want to be kissed?” he says, feigning surprise.

“By you? More than anything.” you say breathlessly, and Jade finds himself leaning into you to really take your breath away.

Floyd stares intently at your lips, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He looks like a predator about to pounce on its prey, and despite how cliche that comparison is for someone like him you can’t help but squirm.

“Floyd.” you say softly, and he snaps out of it when he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong?”

“Shrimpy. Wanna try something new.” he leans closer, his shadow falling over you as if to remind you how scary he can really be, “I want to kiss you.”

Oh.

“Well, that’s doable.” you feel your face grow warm at his insistence as your hands find their way to his lapels.

Floyd’s features soften as he leans into you, his bristling energy soothed by your hands on him, pulling him closer to give him what he wants. Your mouths connect and for a moment you find yourself wincing as his teeth bump against yours, but he pulls back just the slightest bit and presses into your mouth with his mouth, and you lean back and back and back until the only support you have is his arm holding you close.

“Love you Shrimpy.” he grins as he stops kissing you, giggling against your lips. His breath is warm and you feel like a sweet ice cream cone in summer with the way you melt against him.

“Again.” you huff quietly, and Floyd is all too happy to oblige.

Idia was not expecting to be thrown into a super hard boss level right off the bat. Seriously, what is this? Why did you always have to play with such gimmick stats that made no sense and never follow any specific trope?! It wasn’t good for his heart!

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to kiss him, it was just so hard not to think about everything that could go wrong. Like what if he bit you by accident? What if he yawned or sneezed in your mouth? What was the last thing he ate? Where did he put his hands and how is he supposed to move his lips?!

“Idia, it’s okay. We can wait a little while longer. This isn’t something you can rush.” you rub your thumb over his cheek, always so gentle and tender and sweet and everything he never thought he would find.

“No, I want to. I just...don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, ducking his head in his hoodie as the tips of his hair flare pink and red.

“Sorry!” you turn away and let him breathe, trying so desperately to calm down.

“Just...can it be a quick one?” he asks shyly, tentatively, and he hears you hum in satisfaction because he’s communicating and he knows you like it when he tells you what he wants.

“It can be anything you want.” you answer softly, and Idia slams his eyes shut and leans into you.

How you manage to make such normie things seem so nice is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of your lips gliding across his like they were never meant to do anything but kiss him.

#auburn's fics <3 #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst x reader #disney twst #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts fluff #azul ashengrotto fluff #jade leech fluff #floyd leech fluff #idia shroud fluff

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koiiiji · 27 days ago

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disaster

tw ; NSFW DNI IF YOU ARE MINOR!!! this work contains really disgusting topics such as incest and suggestive content, don't read it if you are not okay with such works!!! remember, we highly condemn such behaviour in real life!!

air felt thick, suffocating. you knew about Shingen’s death, the whole estate has been turned upside down, screams and noises of fight followed like shadows. Shintaro Yamazaki had always been cold, but the man who now stood in your doorway was unrecognizable — drenched in blood, eyes wide with a mix of fury and madness.

he was no longer the composed, strategic older brother you once knew. he was something far darker.

“i followed the rules,” he growled, stepping into the room, his voice trembling with a barely contained rage. his hands were still wet with blood — your brother's. "all my life, i did what i was told. obeyed the rules and traditions. stayed in line. and for what?"

you took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. his gaze was locked on you, burning with something dangerous. Shintaro's body trembled with fury, a man who had been stripped of every sense of control.

“for lies,” he spat, voice breaking. “i was the older one. me. not him.” his breathing became erratic, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. “i gave everything to Shingen, all the power, all the respect… and what did i get?”

he paced like a predator in a cage, his movements jagged and uneven, his mind unraveling right in front of you.

“years. wasted years, living under his shadow… for nothing,” he seethed. “all that loyalty, all the sacrifices — lies!”

suddenly, he stopped and looked at you. his eyes, once calm and calculating, were wild, filled with madness and something far more disturbing. he moved closer, and you could feel the raw tension radiating from him.

“you…” his voice was quieter now, but dripping with venom. “you’re still here. you weren’t part of all this lie… but you were always watching.”

before you could react, Shintaro’s hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer. his grip was painful, his body trembling with rage and something deeper — something unhinged. his face was inches from yours now, and you could see the flicker of something other than anger in his eyes.

he wasn’t here to kill you.

not yet.

“you’ve always been there,” he murmured, his voice softening in a way that was far more dangerous than his earlier rage. “but thankfully you mean no harm... you are the youngest, right, little bird? you mean no threat for me becoming the next head of Yamazaki.” he caught your other wrist, pressing you with all his body to the wall. with a horribly languid, soft voice, he kept purr into your ear “maybe i kept you around for this. you've been such a good little sister... maybe that’s why i will let you live.”

you froze, feeling your pulse spike in terror. his other hand moved to your face, brushing a lock of hair away with disturbing tenderness, his blood-stained fingers leaving a red streak against your skin. he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek, and whispered, “Shingen been neglecting you for so long... but now, you don't need to worry, now you're mine... i will take good care of you”

you tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. his eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction as he looked down at you, completely in control.

“you never lie to me, did you?” he asked, almost mockingly. “yes, you were such a good girl for your brothers...” his hands tighten around your wrists, and his knee forcefully pushed between your legs, making you feel a nasty, warm pressure on your inner thigh.

rage in his voice had transformed into something colder. slowly he coming to his senses, more cold, more calculated. he wasn’t here to kill you — not yet. he had other plans. plans that would break you, just as he had been broken.

his fingers traced your jaw, and the fear in your chest exploded as his grip moved to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp, but not enough to cut off your air. his smile twisted into something dark, something monstrous.

“Shingen is gone,” Shintaro whispered, his lips grazing your ear. “and now, you’ll take his place. but not how you think.”

you tried to move, to fight, but his grip was iron. older brother you once knew was gone, replaced by someone broken, someone who now saw you as something to control, something to possess. or did he ever saw you as his sibling?

“you won’t escape,” he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. “you’re mine now. there’s no one left to protect you.”

the room felt smaller, the walls closing in as Shintaro’s dark, twisted laughter echoed in your ears. He had lost everything — and now he was going to take everything from you. slowly. deliberately.

and there was no way out.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#lookism #webtoon #webtoon lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #yamazaki #shintaro yamazaki #yamazaki shingen #shingen yamazaki #shingen #shintaro #x reader #smut #lookism smut #lookism 523 #lookism spoilers

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suguru-getos · 1 year ago

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 27﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Yandere Hawks x F!Reader -> Ruts

Warnings: Dub!con, filthy dirty talk 😭, prone!bone, dóggy!, squirting, nicknames -> Baby bird, love bird, mentions of breed!ng, cumflation, plugging, overstimulation. Yandere tendencies, threats, wings as a source of threat, kidnapping. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: How you latched yourself as Hawks’ little thing after being just an avid fan, now caged and loved (in his own ways) and mated to. <3

You hate the crumbling feeling on your stomach that comes with Keigo's presence, your heart aches, your sanity gets crumpled under his dominant, ruthless gaze that hides oh-so-well behind his suffocating love. Keigo knew the moment he saw you for the first time, sparing your time at a coffee shop in the evening, the same shop he sometimes likes to visit. The coffee there is immaculate, not the 'gutter like' canned coffees he drinks for the hell of it. You were just as enamoured by the rest of the fans, gazing at him, some are nervously asking for his autograph, some of them are asking for selfies. Yet, nothing phases Hawks. It's as if he's made for this. Made to show everyone why he's the Number Two hero. You could almost swear it gave you strength and guts to ask yourself, so you get up from your place, walking towards him with that unhinged confidence, mingled with a hint of nervousness because of just how much you adored him as you urged him for a selfie. Mostly, Hawks takes respectful selfies with women, distancing himself just enough not to look probing, yet close enough to look friendly. Yet, she selfie you clicked with him didn't turn out to look so planned, so thought out. It almost seemed like Hawks wanted the momento you carried to have an imprinting significance.

Then, it was as if fate was responsible for what comes next, or that's something stupid you'd leave your old self to believe. Hawks saved you from harassing villains, taking you home couped up in his lap. Why wouldn't you ask him to come inside, why wouldn't you offer him a drink?

Now you're just a kidnapped nobody, your family thinks you're dead, your friends think you're dead, Keigo made sure of that. You see- he could easily date you, but patience is not something he harbours so perfectly. He could earn your love, by being the doting boyfriend, by being everything you'd ever want.

Then again, he can do that once he has the surety of you being couped up in his house. That's exactly what he did.

"Come on Baby bird, I am trying to be nice." He coos softly, watching you scream and cry and beg, it breaks his heart why don't you understand.

"Maybe I can write my name on your hand?" He holds up his feather blade, it's half threat, half unhinged devotion. "Promise you won't feel a thing!"

"Hey I got you, your absolute favourite food lovebird, come here." He croons, urging you against your will to settle in his lap as he feeds you.

He is tolerant, even tempered, hopelessly funny until you piss him off. You know better than to piss him off after being with him for a few months now. You can't even recognize him when that happens, rageful daunting echoing through the walls as his flowy feathers encircle your body like a threat, Hawks is a threat. You mustn't forget that.

He thinks sex can solve it all, what more than to make love to his mate, to get intimate and make you take his ridged member in your hole over and over until it slides in without your squirms and moans. He can tie you up if you do though, no disturbances please-

You haven't seen the real, gruesome, cruel self of Hawks yet. You will soon, his rut is approaching. The symptoms are clear to him, and weirdly to you as well. He has discussed this several times during the 'aftercare' of you. "You know, there are certain times when.." his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly, "When the avian side of me becomes dominant…" He says it so softly you'd almost feel it's harmless.

Not right now though, when it's actually impending and happening.

"Baby bird, did you fucking put your clothes in laundry?" Keigo yelled from the washroom, the restroom's echo making him sound even more terrific than he usually is. You visibly flinch like a dried leaf, shuddering, "Sorry- Kei I- uhm, sorry they were dirty." You don't know the reason of this outburst, you'd rather not find out.

You give yourself strength to drag your defiant feet towards the rest room, finding him pathetically curled up on the left-over set of your used clothes. He looks almost cute if it weren't for his intentions.

"God I- I want you so fucking bad." He almost whimpers, soon turning into an aggressive growl.

"On the fucking bed, all fours." You shake up at the sudden order, were you being punished for something like this? Keigo's crazy but he's not this- off his clock. "Why? What- what did I do wrong?" You bite your lip, one feeble attempt to want to know what you're up against.

Hawks sighs, his expressive wings faltering as he took two steps towards you, wanting to lessen the distance. You wanted to run so bad, the instinct in you screaming to run, yet the panic in you freezing you up.

"Nothing, pretty girl. Told you I got my rut approaching, didn't I?" Hawks is slightly tender, though from the way he's straining himself to be polite, you know not for long. "On the bed. All. Fours." He gripped your face with a single hand, puckering your lips and leaning in, forcing a painful whimper with the way he kisses you roughly.

"Good girl." He parts away, the string of saliva parting like a thread of fate.

You don't want to make this hard on yourself, so you walk towards the shared master bedroom, it's designed in colours which are neutral, yet suit perfectly to the Hawks palette. As his fan, or ex-fan, rather, you always thought of how his aesthetic would be, and it perfectly matches your imaginations.

To please him a little more, you take off your clothes, arching your back up perfectly to let him see your pre-abused cunt, sitting perfectly down your tightened asshole. You bury your head on the mattress, letting it be cushioned in the fluffy pillows.

An audible hiss escapes Hawks, he can't fucking control the lewd desires that tear him apart when he marvels at your body. "These next few days, would be tough, Angel." Keigo warns, and before your brain could register, or formulate a response, You feel Keigo spitting onto your cunt, the dribble of the liquid making you throb, moistening your walls as his fingers pinched at your clit. A small whimper escapes you when you find your sensitive bundle of nerves under his mercy. "Aw, little slut loves a little pain with it." Keigo snickers under his breath, spanking the fat of your ass hard, one single hit shoving you into the mattress more, though the hold on your clit forbids you to. It feels like a clamp being pulled, you're left with nothing more than a scream as a response.

"Oh good girl, sing for me." Hawks hums, spreading your ass cheeks and watching your now relieved clit twitch, along with your walls. "This pussy begging for me?" He warns, and you nodded as if there's no other answer you can give him.

"Going to fill you up, breed my little mate until she can't take it anymore. Give you so many loads your pussy can't have any other option but to give me a little Keigo, or a little Y/N." He groans to himself, taking his hardened cock out, shoving it deep into your walls, in one swift go. You can cum as many times as you want really, because normally, Keigo's stamina covers up for it, this time- worse. He's rutting like an animal, achy, needy, all for you.

"Then- you know what I'll do?" Hawks breathes out, gritting his teeth as you scream in pain, laced with the perfect amount of pleasure.

"Then, I'll plug this pretty pussy up, none of my cum can escape. Then when I want to, I'd unplug and fill you up again. Little cum jar." He laughs, "My pathetic little cum dump, aren't you?"

Hawks is filthy, absolutely unhinged and filthy with the way dirty talk laced with degradation spouts out from him.

You nodded, hating the way your body betrays you at his words, the way your cunt clamps onto him in a silent affirmation.

"Good (thrust) girl (thrust), gonna (thrust) fill'ya (thrust) up."

Your moans and whimpers echo throughout the shared bedroom, it feels almost sinful, the way his dick kisses your cervix, brushing against your G-spot and making you dance around the waves of pleasure. "So fuckin' tight even though I fuck your pussy up almost err'day." Keigo leans his head back, praising you as he rails onto you, one to two thrusts every second, hands gripping your waist with a bruising grip so you can't possibly run away. "Atta girl" He loves how your moans break into a jerk with the way he's thrusting. Loving the way your petite body tries to clamp up around him, loving the way you try to keep up.

"Aw she's clenching, yeah? Go on, massage my cock and cum. NOW." Keigo commands, an order which would come intertwined with punishments if you don't listen. You croak out, as you orgasm, the constant poking of your G-Spot makes you remember the familiar sensation when you squirted last time, it's so embarrassing, how you gush out at the roughness, and you find yourself doing exactly that. "Aw yes baby, yeah baby," Keigo encouraged, riding out your high as he thrusted his own load, deep into you, still continuing, the same pace, no break.

"Ngh- Ah- please- no. You- I can't." You can feel yourself squeeze down, pathetically so as another orgasm builds to betray your words.

"No no no, where'dya think you're doing Baby bird?" Keigo chuckles, laughing at your feeble attempt to run away, loving how your legs give out.

"Hmm? Want Prone bone? Oof, nasty little song bird." Keigo commented, adjusting your legs, using your tiredness to his advantage as his pelvis slaps your ass with the aggressive way his cock thrusts into you. It's akin to an actual spanking, and you tip off the edge of your delicious orgasm once more. Gritting teeth at the overpowering waves of pleasure. "Gah- can't-"

Your whimpers are paid no heed, another sticky load from Keigo creaming inside you. "That's two, got a lot more in me." Keigo warns, while you feel dizzy at the shaking way your body is being used.

He stops a little though, wanting to give you just a few more minutes before you can start giving him orgasms again, his beautiful little cock massager.

Keigo loves it, how giving you a break makes you slightly reset to be used again.

"Say you love me." He croons, almost sounding like a hurt child, though you know that persona would quickly change.

"I love you." He makes you say it so many times your own definition of the term 'love' is slightly going hazy, not accustomed to your own terms and blurring out with his.

"Gonna make you turn on your back now Little one." Keigo coos, watching you tenderly and moving again.

Oh it was going to be a long night for Hawks' mate. You only hope you'd be able to bear him on you, just as he hopes of you loving him as much as he does.

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jymwahuwu · 6 months ago

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Interactive Story:

If you transformed into a bird and were discovered by Sunday

cw: birdcage description, yandere not mentioned in this chapter but possible in the future. please read with caution.

reader setting: You and Sunday have always been political enemies and rivals. You argue with each other in The Family meetings.

previous part

→ "try to become human again"

Like a rising thermometer, anger, anger, anger- the red liquid inside you is boiling, occupying, desperately searching for clues and ways to become human again, but finding none. As soon as you open your eyes, you turn into a little bird, after all. The world becomes wider in the bird's eyes. Perhaps awareness is the point? You are preoccupied with the idea of "becoming human"…

But in Sunday's eyes, you are just a motionless bird, as if you are concentrating on something. There is an inexplicable cuteness. "Aren't you going to resist?" The leader of the Oak family wrapped his fingers around your wings, avoiding your wounds, and rubbed your round belly through the wings. If a bird's cheeks could heat up with shyness, you'd be hot right now. What a bastard! He can even harass a small bird! You pecked his fingers in retaliation, but your legs were off the ground the next second.

Sunday held you in his hands as he walked, observing you. You struggled to flap your wings all the way and chirped like he was committing a crime robbing birds. You'd think people would stop Sunday's "criminal" behavior, but other members of The Family were just watching quietly, smiling mysteriously, whispering to each other.

What a moral decline!

You huffed and fell silent. As if the young leader understood the meaning of your actions, a burst of laughter rose from his throat, and he rubbed your little head again. He… is he laughing at you? Lord Xipe, do you see this? He is truly insufferable!

This is not the first time you have entered Sunday's office, but every time before you ran in and quarreled with him before running out. This is the first time you notice the layout of his office. The smell of juniper berries. The cabinets are filled with heavy, thick books. And the light from the sun shining through the colored windows. He opened one of the lockers. You stared at him with your little eyes like a hawk, and you were relieved to find that the bottle of strange blue liquid was a potion.

"Be good, don't move."

Sunday skillfully stopped the bleeding on your wound and then applied the medicine. You bit your mouth, the wings of your wings swaying. Chirping in anguish. He took a new potion and sprayed it on the injured area to finish.

"…There, there. It's okay now…"

You hummed softly inwardly and looked away.

Knock- knock.

"Come in." Sunday responded with his usual elegant smile. You absentmindedly looked to see who it was, but you were so frightened that your pupils trembled.

That's your subordinate, your assistant.

"Mr. Sunday." He gasped with some embarrassment and anxiety. "They- they're missing. It's been over 20 system hours without any trace."

"No response even to private contacts?" The representative of The Family raised his eyelids at this moment, with a hint of disappointment and gloom in his tone. "I thought you were the person they trusted most."

"No - no, Mr. Sunday, you know that my allegiance is always only to you." He put his hand on his chest and bent towards him. It’s like the world has turned into an obscure suspense novel. You are stunned.

He glanced at him twice more, with unknown emotions rolling in his eyes, before giving the order. "Go search immediately and inform the Bloodhound Family that a senior member of the family is missing. We cannot let them encounter any danger."

"Yes." Silence returned to the room. You were still in shock at being betrayed by your subordinates, and you didn't even notice that Sunday had opened the cage.

You are locked up, in a birdcage.

He observes you from outside the cage. He asked. It's like asking for your opinion-

"You stay here now, okay?"

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

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catsteeth · 2 months ago

Text

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 19 ✿:+ Brown Eyes

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Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, graphic descriptions of childbirth, pregnancy, mention of forced abortion, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, misogyny, protectiveness, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence,

Word Count: 6.1K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Tyrion, Sansa, a maester, and five midwives watched you pace the birthing chambers in the high tower back and forth, rubbing your back in pain. “Hmmmmmmmm…” You groaned, “Fuck!” You shouted as you hunched forward. The cramping in your back was like the ones you had when you had your blood, but this was worse. Far, far, far worse.

“You can push through it.” The old maester said, “Women have beared children since the beginning of time.” He said in a condescendingly calm tone as you rived in pain.

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You barked at the old man, he knew nothing of the pain you felt. No matter how many women he observed in pain he’d never know the true suffering of it. “The pain, please, please give me something for the pain!” You pleaded,

The maester shook his head, “It is too early. Taking anything now could slow your progression.”

You let go as you continued to pace the room, holding onto your stomach as you groaned, “Hnghhhh..” You felt a thick layer of sweat over your skin, your body was hot and burning from the pain. You began to remove your gown, but your hands were too shaky and weak to unbutton or unlace anything, “Take this off of me-Open the fucking windows.” As you commanded it, three midwives opened the windows whilst two others as well as Sansa assisted you with your dress.

As your gown fell, and you were left in a bloody shift, Tyrion averted his eyes from you. Walking towards the maester Tyrion began, “Are you certain nothing can be given?”

“My Lord, her body must be ready to deliver-” The maester tried to explain, however his words were interrupted by your wailing.

“Aaah!” Tyrion turned around as you groaned loudly,

He turned back to the Maester, “Does that not seem ready?” he questioned.

“Boil the water- Ready her bed-“ You overheard the midwives speaking amongst one another. As you did, you realized they were beginning preparations for your delivery.

You felt a rush of irrational panic, shaking your head, you began to plead, “I cannot, I cannot deliver here.” You said holding onto Sansa, “I want to be in my mothers home, I want my husband.”

“I don’t think you have much say.” Sansa said, unsure of how to calm you.

The maester took Tyrion aside, leaning in closer to him, “It’s too soon, she should be carrying for another seven and ten days-“

“I want my Husband!” You cried out, rarely were you ever frightened.

Ripping his eyes away from you and back to the maester, “Well clearly it is happening.” Tyrion practically hissed.

You overheard this, you pushed away Sansa as you stumbled towards the maester. You grabbed the old man by the collar, pulling him in close “Is there any doubt? It is fucking happening!” You practically growled at the man, feeling the sweat accumulating on your brow. You felt as though you were becoming Sandor in that moment, taking that bit of him you needed.

Sansa was overwhelmed by the sight of you, by the screams, the blood and sweat. She muttered an apology before leaving you.

Suddenly you felt a gentle, and cool touch. You looked over and saw a young plain faced common girl with dirty hair. “M’lady,” She said sweetly as she placed her hands on your arms pulling you away from the man. Though her face was plain, her sweet voice and cold hands against your hot skin made her look and feel like an angel. “Breathe with me,” She said as she led you away from the maester. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, she did it with you again and again. She took your hand as she led you to your bed, “Squeeze my hand with every pain.” You laid onto your bed, “That pain is your babe making their way to us. Closer they get, the closer the babe is.”

“Well can they fucking get on with it?” You groaned between labored breaths,

“Breathe, m’lady, breathe.” The girl spoke sweetly, “M’lady, may I look at your progress?” She asked, never letting go of your hand. You couldn’t care less, you just wanted this babe out. You nodded exhaustedly. The girl never let go of your hand, but with her free hand she rose your shift to see.

Tyrion looked away swiftly. Just as he did the old maester placed a hand on the Lord's shoulder, “My Lord, a word.” The maester said in a hushed tone.

Tyrion contemplated leaving the room, but ultimately did.

Once the two men stepped into the hall, Tyrion felt irritation rise as he could hear your yelps inside the room where this maester should be.

“What is it?” Tyrion asked with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

The maester looked somewhat flustered as he spoke, “The Lady’s Lord Husband Clegane has arrived.” He spoke in a hushed tone.

Tyrion's frustration grew, “Why are you telling me? She’d want to know, she’s been asking for him-“

Tyrion turned to re enter your chambers, to inform you of your husband's arrival, news that would bring great relief to you.

However the maester stopped Tyrion, grabbing his wrist. “The father is not permitted to witness the birth. It is not done unless the woman is dying. Frankly you shouldn’t have been allowed for as long as you were.”

Tyrion felt uncomfortable, knowing that if Sandor was denied access to you it would result in nothing but a bloody fight. “He will not allow a barrier between him and his wife. And she will not either.”

“That is why we have told Clegane that she is still being prepared for laboring. And why have we not told the Lady that he has arrived.”

Tyrion's face contorted in confusion, “Of what concern is it of yours if he is in the room or not?”

“Tradition. It is not done.” He said exasperated, “Besides the Lord Clegane may prove to be an intimidating figure for the midwives in the room. He would frighten them-”

“And yourself.” Tyrion interrupted, making the Maester’s expression drop. “Allow me to see him.” He said with a confident nod.

“Are you friendly with him? He is quite agitated, perhaps you could calm him.” The maester asked, wanting any assistance in calming the hound.

Tyrion rolled his eyes in frustration, “Just tell me where he is.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Sandor waited in the library of Winterfell in agony for someone to tell him what was happening.

He paced the room restlessly. His anger grew and grew with each passing minute of silence. As he paced the room his anger slipped from his grasp for a moment as he kicked over a table in the room. And with the table its papers and letters flew about the room. But one paper in particular caught his eyes.

A drawing, a drawing of you. A rendering of your likeness.

A maester had one created to be sent to each of the seven kingdoms, to tell them of your victory. A marker of history.

He took the drawing in his hands, looked at it closely.

As he looked upon your likeness he came upon a horrifying thought that he was attempting to push out of his mind, but just couldn’t. What if after tonight, this likeness is the only thing he’ll have left of you.

If you couldn’t handle bearing a child, if you suffered the same fate as your mother, or his own.

He’d spend sleepless nights staring at it. Spend years staring at your child, hoping he’d see a glimpse of you in them. And if the child did not live past this night either, then neither would he.

He was pulled from his horrid thoughts as the door opened. He turned around and saw Tyrion in the doorway, looking upon the scene with an awkward demeanor.

“Where the fuck is she?” Sandor barked as he stepped towards Tyrion, “No one will tell me anything!” He shouted.

Tyrion raised the palm of his hand as he spoke softly, “They mean to keep you away from the birth.” Tyrion knew that keeping the two of you would only cause distress. Fuck tradition.

Sandor huffed, “You think I don’t know that? I’ll cut that Maesters throat-“ He said about to charge out of the room before Tyrion began again.

“Do you want bloodshed on such a day? Deprive your laboring wife of the only Maester in Winterfell?” Tyrion said rationally. Sandor hated to admit it, but he was right. Though it did not calm him any.

“The King was never there when your sister labored.” Sandors words were dripping with contempt. He remembered those days in King's Landing. When the King would leave whilst his wife labored. Before Sandor did not care, he did not care about the on goings of the royals lives. All he was concerned about was their safety and his duty. But now, he thought of those days and found himself disgusted. The King hunted, presenting his Queen with pelts whilst she presented a child. He did not wish for you to feel abandoned in that way.

“I think she was thankful for that.” Tyrion attempted to jest.

Sandor did not find it amusing however. “You know what happened to her mother?” His words were dark and his eyes were hard, “She is scared.” His voice wavered slightly, “I won’t have her be scared.” He shook his head.

Tyrion looked at the Hound, but he did not see the Hound. He saw Sandor. He felt a deep sympathy for this tortured man, he understood his love for you. He also understood your love for him. With a sigh he admitted, “She’s in the high tower.”

Sandor pushed past Tyrion without challenge as he marched up the halls of Winterfell. He didn’t need to know what room specifically, he’d figure that out soon enough.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

As he got closer and closer to the chambers you were held in, he could hear cries of pain muffled through the stone walls. But he knew your voice well enough to know it was yours.

As he approached the very room that he knew you were in, he noticed a guard positioned outside its door.

Sandor marched up to the guard, “Open the fucking door.” He ordered in a low voice, it rumbled in his chest.

The guard’s stoic expression faltered and was now replaced by an expression of fear.

Before the craven guard could move aside, the door to the chamber opened. Giving Sandor a small glimpse inside.

He saw you holding your legs apart wearing nothing but your shift that was now covered in sweat and blood. You were on the floor, with your back pressed against the wooden frame of the bed. You groaned through gritted teeth and shut eyes as a midwife held your hand.

He’d never seen you in such a state, in such pain.

However as the door opened the maester stepped in front of Sandor, closing the door.

Sandor looked at the maester with wide and violent eyes. He nearly tore the old cunts arm off when he extended a hand, pressing against Sandors chest. “My Lord, the father mustn’t be present. You may find you are glad for it. I find that lady is glad for it as well, not wishing for their husband to see them in such a state.” The old man's voice wavered from age.

Sandor swatted the maester’s hand away from him. “She say she doesn’t want me there?” He barked, If you didn’t wish him there he’d obey your command, but he knew better. He knew you did not want to be surrounded by people you didn’t know.

“There’s no need to fear for her. The child is in a good position.” The maester attempted to alleviate Sandor’s agitation. However it only grew as he heard another wail come from behind the door.

Sandor scoffed, “That doesn’t sound like it!” He barked, grasping a hold of the maester’s smock.

“Child bearing is not a pleasurable experience, my Lord.” The maester stammered.

“I know that.” He said in a gruff tone, “Let me the fuck in there.” He said as he heard another cry, his grip tightened. “If you don’t move, I’ll pull your guts from your fucking throat.” He rasped pulling the maester closer, nearly inches away from his face.

You were so tired from the pain, the energy it took with each push, and the milk of the poppy only made it worse. You struggled to keep your eyes open as you panted from exhaustion. You threw your head back, “I want my husband, I want to see his eyes.” you whined.

A more high born midwife in the corner of the room spoke up, “It is not done, my Lady-“

“If it would bring m’lady comfort,” your angel attempted to defend your wishes properly, but her temper got the better of her, “Fuck traditions, just let the man in!” she whispered in a hiss towards the other midwife making her gasp.

After she did, you heard the booming sound of your husband's voice, demanding to be let in on the other side of the door. Your eyes widened despite your exhaustion. “Is that him? He’s here? I want my husband-Sandor!” You called out frantically, knowing he’d hear it.

“Fuck out my way.” Sandor rasped one last time before pushing the maester away by placing a large palm on the man’s face.

As he burst into the chamber, your tired and weary eyes fell on him, but through your exhaustion and tears you could hardly make him out. But the sound of his footsteps and the way his armor clanked as he stomped around the room, you knew it was him.

“Sandor?” You asked weakly, reaching a hand out to him.

Sandor dropped to his knees, grabbing hold of your hand firmly. “I’m here.” His voice wavered slightly. Something that rarely happened. He took your face into his other hand. “I’m here.”

“I’m scared.” You said grasping at Sandors arm.

He didn’t know how to comfort you, but he wanted to badly. He rubbed your dewy cheek with his large thumb, “I know, I know. I know, my brave girl.” He whispered to you as he leaned in closer to you.

“Fuck-“ You cried out, throwing your head back again against the wooden bed frame. Feeling the pain wash over you. Practically paralyzing your legs. You shook your head, “It’s not coming is it?” You whimpered.

The common girl rubbed your knee as she looked under your shift, “It is coming, m’lady.” She was confident.

Though her confidence didn’t help you much.

As you continued to cry out from the pain, Sandor looked to the midwife who tended to you so tenderly. “What can I do?” He asked, strangely gentle.

“Nothing to be done.” The maester said, as he stood uselessly in the corner. “I know that is not what you’d like to hear. I know you wish to ease her pain but I can assure you I have done all I can to ease it-” His pathetic words were interrupted by your scream of pain.

“That doesn’t sound like easing fucking pain!” Sandor shouted at the Maester as he held on tighter to your hand.

“While Lord Tyrion sought you out, I gave the Lady Arryn as much milk of the poppy I could without killing her.” ’Killing her’ the words made Sandor stand, and stomp over to the maester.

“She cannot die.” He growled through gritted teeth.

“We are doing all we can-” The maester said flustered.

“She will not die.” He leaned in towards the old man. Inches from his face once again. “You fucking hear me?” He threatened.

“Y-yes.” The maester stammered.

“Then stop flapping your fucking lips at me and go see to my wife.”

The girl who attended to you called out, “M’Lord, hold the lady.” Sandor obeyed, but not before staring daggers at the old man. Once he turned from him, he got back on his knees. You kneeled on your knees, resting your head against his chest, as you held onto his shoulders. The new position alleviated some of the pain from your back, but certainly did not resolve it completely. “Is that better m’lady?” The girl asked, and you nodded with closed eyes, attempting to relish in the feeling of your husband's hands holding you up.

The young midwife positioned herself on her knees behind you, pushing up your shift, “It is time M’lady.” She said with a sympathetic tone, knowing the next bit was not going to be any more pleasant. “Push!”

And so you did, you dug your nails into his armored shoulders as you strained. “You can do this,” Sandor murmured in your ear, “You can.” He asserted again and again.

Pushing with all of your might. Pushing and pausing to breathe. The pain made your legs tremble and if it were not for Sandor’s tight hold on you, you would’ve buckled onto the floor.

As you pushed you couldn’t breathe, you strained so hard you feared you’d burst. You felt your face turn red and the sweat drip from your brow.

You tried your hardest to push, not letting a single scream escape you from the strain. The room fell silent for the first time since your labors began. Until you could no longer hold in your scream as it escaped through your gritted teeth.

And finally, relief.

Relief that carried sound, a cry.

You could hear the babe’s cry. Even their squeals were beautiful and sweet.

“A girl! A girl!” The girl said with delight as she wrapped the babe in a blanket.

You were still too weak to move, but with all your strength you raised your head from Sandor’s chest, attempting to look at the babe but could not see her with the crowd of midwives in the way. “How is she?” you asked with half lidded eyes.

“She’s small, quite small. But she’s ten fingers, ten toes, and kicking like a goat, m’lady.” You could practically hear the girl's smile as she tended to cleaning the babe and removing her umbilical cord.

You smiled and could do nothing but allow tears to fall from your cheeks as the sounds of her cry met your ears. The first sound of the little thing you’d been growing within you for 8 long months. She’d come to you early, in your time of need. You couldn’t wait to see her face for the first time.

Sandor looked over at the babe, so small. He couldn’t believe someone as large and as brutal as he could create such a delicate and beautiful thing. He held back a smile as he looked at her, he’d never felt such a love before. He’d burn the world for that fragile bird and do it gladly. He held you tighter, proud of your accomplishment, grateful of what you’d given him, and beyond relieved you were alive.

“Ah!” You wailed in discomfort as you felt something moving its way out of you. Sandor gripped onto you tighter.

“The afterbirth-“ She said, grabbing a chamberpot to catch it, “You’ll need to push just a bit more m’lady.” She said rubbing your lower back, attempting to comfort you.

It was much easier to pass then the babe, you pushed it part the way until it slipped out of you. You hardly felt it other than the uncomfortable sensation of it slipping from between your thighs.

The girl collected it swiftly and cleaned your thighs. Only the cramping did not stop.

“Mmmm-“ You continued to groan in discomfort, you shoved your face into Sandor’s chest.

He placed a hand over your head, “Something’s not right.” Sandor said, looking towards the maester.

“Time after birth can be uncomfortable.” The maester said dismissively.

Sandor had no time to beat the man into submission. Rather he looked towards the common girl, the only midwife that seemed to understand how to help you. “Girl!” He shouted and the girl looked back towards you and he said, “Something’s not right with her!”

The girl pushed the chamberpot and rags she used to clean you onto another midwife, and rushed over towards you. She lifted your skirts, “Another,” She said with a gasp, “A blessing from the Gods!” She said with glee.

“Another child?” Sandor asked, he was rarely ever surprised but he was now. His feelings battled one another. He felt an overwhelming joy to know that he not only had one child by you but two, he also felt ill-equipped and frightened, but mostly he was concerned once again by your health. He did not know if you could handle another child in your state of exhaustion.

“Again? Fuck-I can’t-“ You shook your head frantically, you were frightened by the prospect of having to strain like that again.

The girl placed a cool hand on your back and shook her head, “No choice M’lady, the babe is coming.” She said with a softness.

“Sandor, my only love.” You spoke as if you were recalling him, not speaking to him. Though your voice was weak your words were heavy. “If I die,” You began,

“Stop.” He commanded you as he caressed your head against his chest.

You continued as if you did not hear him, “If I die, care for our children. It’s not their fault.” You said weary, through labored breaths. The pain became hardly noticeable as you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness. Perhaps it was the milk of the poppy, perhaps it was death. You did not know, and were too tired to care.

“You will not die,” He said sternly. He could feel emotion rise in his chest, and his nose slash with heat. He held back tears as he barked, “You’re not going to fucking die!”

You were used to your husband's harsh tone, it did not bother you. “Tell me what she looks like-“ You asked between groans of pain as you continued to push the best you could. You knew one thing for certain and that was that your child would be born, even if it killed you.

“You’ll see her soon.” Sandor said, unwilling to entertain any notion that would suggest you wouldn’t.

“Tell me.” You asked again, your weary voice wavered and your body shook from the pain.

Sandor looked over to the babe, the midwives were busy cleaning, and the babe continued to cry. No doubt misliking the hands of strangers, wanting for her mother. “Small. She looks like you-“ He shook his head and looked back down to you, “You’ll see soon.” He asserted again.

“You must push, M’lady, the babe is nearly here!” The girl encouraged you.

You groaned and whined as you dug your nails back into Sandors shoulders. He held you tightly, and ran his hands up and down your back as you pushed. Only this time, you could not push so easily. You got winded quicker, and were screaming more. You cried out and sweat dripped from your brow as you shook your head, “I can’t, I can’t.” You whimpered into Sandor’s chest.

“Push, girl, push!” Sandor almost pleaded with you.

With a final push, one that took all your might,

You felt that relief once more, and the sounds of other babes cry.

“A boy!” She said with joy, “Strong and healthy, M’Lady. Much bigger than his sister.”

“You did it, you see?” Sandor said whispering as he kissed the crown of your head.

“I’m so tired.” You whined, your eyes nearly closed.

“No more in her is there?” Sandor asked with a raised brow.

“No, M’Lord.” The girl shook her head, and snipped the babes umbilical cord.

With that, Sandor picked you up gently. He carried you to the bed in the chambers. He laid you on the bed with the utmost care, sitting beside you.

You could hear your children cry in the room. Despite your exhaustion you needed them in your arms. “I want my children.” You pleaded. As the midwives made sure that your body was not in need of any immediate attention, the common girl brought you your first born. The girl, a small and delicate babe.

With a wide smile, You kissed her forehead, and smiled as tears of joy fell from your eyes. Her cries ceased as soon as her skin met yours. Through the reflection of the babe’s big brown eyes, you saw your own smile that she brought to you.

Then she handed you your son, a much larger, and longer babe than his sister. He rested on your chest as you kissed his head. The babes were soft and calm as you held them. You let out a breath of relief and smiled so widely you didn’t remember the last time you were so happy.

The scene was enough to make even your stone hearted husband smile, nearly in tears himself though he’d never show it. He held your head and kissed your temple.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

You could hardly sleep that night despite your exhaustion. You spent it staring at your babes.

What bliss, a bliss, a peace, a love that you’d never felt before. Not for anyone or anything. Even Sandor.

A love so pure, unconditional, and fierce, no force alive could shift it.

A love you could not live without. You held in your hands now your greatest strength, as well as your greatest weakness.

You shall be the cruelest woman alive if it ensured these little things safety. You shall be the gentlest woman alive if it ensured their happiness.

You intended to do both.

You looked up to see Tyrion, quietly entering your chamber. You smiled, too content to question what he was doing here so late, “Am I mad, or are these babes the most beautiful babes in all of histories?” You said looking at the sleeping babes in the cradles by your bedside. “Or perhaps all mothers feel this way.”

Tyrion approached, looking at the two babes with a soft smile, “Both could be true.” He looked at you with concern. “I wanted to see how you were, two children in one night is quite the accomplishment.” He said with a smile.

You looked over to your husband, dead asleep beside you, snoring loudly. “I fear the births tired him more than I.” You said, not being able to remember the pain you suffered, blinded by the happiness you felt in that moment.

Tyrion looked at the babes in the cradle, “A name?”

You shrugged, “We never discussed it. Feels unthinkable now, to overlook such a thing. To hells with the war, it should have been them I thought of.” You said, shaking your head. “I simply keep calling them, my girl, and my boy.” You said with a gentle smile, and placed your hand on top of your girl's belly, just to feel her breathing.

He smiled at your happiness, “I told you so.” he said in a whisper. Remembering how he once told you that you would one day have a child, and marry, and how you denied it.

“I’m sorry, Tyrion.” You said earnestly.

“Don’t be.” He said with a smile shaking his head. He looked at the babes once more, “She looks like you, thank the Gods.” It was partially a jest.

“She has his eyes.” You said proudly.

“He’s big for a babe born so early. No doubt he will be as big as his father. Though let us hope he will be much more handsome.” He said, again jesting, though half serious. He looked at you softly, “Many people wish to see you, and them.”

You shook your head. “They can wait til the morning. They must sleep, as must I.” Tyrion nodded and began to leave your chamber, but not before you said, “Thank you, Tyrion.” He smiled at you and nodded once more before leaving.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

The next morning, it was quite early, the sun barely touching the sky. But you and Sandor were awake. Midwives still scurried around the room and made sure you were well. Bringing you and your husband food. Sandor gorged after such a long trip back to Winterfell.

Though you were bound to your bed you insisted on attending to your children as much as you could.

An old maid came to take your boy from your arms, to take him to the wet nurse. An idea that disagreed with you terribly.

“I’ll feed them myself.” You said as you pulled your son closer to you and away from the old maid.

The old maid did not understand it, “My lady that is what the wet nurse is for.” She said with furrowed brows.

“Not for my children.” You said not leaving any room for question.

“My lady-“ She began,

“You heard her.” Your husband barked as he scarfed down the plate of food in front of him.

The old maid left, frustrated and confused.

“M’lady wishes to do this the common way.” The common girl said with a smile as she approached you. “May I show you?” She asked softly,

You nodded humbly, clueless as to what to do. The common girl approached you and gently began helping you position the boy in your arms to feed.

“What is your name?” You asked, looking at the common girl's face.

“Eira, m’lady.” She said as softly as she helped your son latch onto you.

“Eye-raaa,” You said drawing out the pronunciation of her name, it was a name you’d never heard before. “Beautiful name.” It was, especially for a common born girl, “Have you aided in the births of many babes?” You asked, adjusting your hold on the boy.

“Only a few.” She said, it surprised you. She seemed to be the most capable and knowledgeable in the room, “And my own.” She finished.

You looked at her with concern, the girl could not be more than ten and five, “You’re only a girl.”

“Men hardly see it that way.” She said with a shake of her head, and a somber smile.

As your son began to drink from you, you caressed his head. Already he had a full head of hair, the same color as your own. “You’ve a talent, Eira.” You said softly.

“Thank you, M’lady.” She with a smile said as she readied her things to leave you.

“I Thank you, I do not think I would have been able to get through my labors without your help.” You said with true gratitude.

Eira smiled and bowed her head to you before leaving you and your new family to share a moment alone.

As you fed your boy, you looked over to the cradle that held your little girl. Then you looked at your husband, who was looking at the small babe in the cradle as he ate. Like a watchful guard dog, or a good father.

“You’ve not held her.” You said, gently.

He shook his head, “She’s too small.” he rasped.

“Hold her.” You asserted, gently again. You knew he was scared but you also knew he wanted to hold her dearly.

“I’ll hurt her.” He said vulnerably.

“You won’t hurt her.” He looked at you, “I know you won’t.” You said softly.

With a sigh, Sandor stood and approached the cradle. He hesitated before reaching in and gently cradling the babe in his hands. She was so small he could have held her in one hand, but dare not try.

He was half expecting the babe to cry as soon as he held her. But she did not, comforted by the presence of her father as he walked her over to the bedside where her mother said. “You have a daughter, and a son.” You said as Sandor sat beside you.

“We have a daughter, and a son.” He said softly, you stared at him with a blissful smile. You could not think of a place in the world you would rather be. He looked at you, and furrowed his brow, “What?” he rasped.

“She inherited your eyes.” You said gently looking over at the brown eyed babe. You then caressed the crown of the boy in your arms as you said “And he’s got your nose. Small but you can tell.”

Sandor scoffed, “Let’s hope that’s all they got from me.” he groaned.

“Stop it.” You said more sternly, “You’re the most handsome man I know.” It was true, scar or no.

He looked at you as if you’d told the most egregious lie, “Fuck off-“

“Don’t.” You interupted him, “I’m not well enough to fuck some sense into you just yet.” You said leaning over slightly to kiss his cheek.

Sandor snorted a laugh, “He has your eyes.” Sandor said more gently, looking at the babe you fed.

“Do you think?” You asked, looking down to the boy at your breast.

“I know.” He said gruffly.

“I’m glad it was two. I won’t be baring any more children, do you understand?” You said with a raised brow, “The Eyrie will be thoroughly stocked with moontea.”

“Or I could stop finishing in you.” He rasped.

“Let’s not be irrational.” You said as if he had suggested the most ridiculous idea. It made him chuckle lowly. As you looked at your children, you placed a hand on Sandors shoulder, “We should decide names.”

“You can manage that.” He murmured. It was not something a man like he would give much thought or care to.

“You don’t have a family name you’d like?” You asked, wishing to honor his family as your own.

Sandor shook his head, “Fuck my brother, and fuck my father. I can’t remember my sister's name… Can’t even remember my own mothers name.” He grumbled.

As your boy finished feeding, you held him towards Sandor, making him hold both your children. You rested your chin on his shoulder as ran your hand up and down his back. Wanting to comfort him.

You thought deeply for a moment of a name. “Loras? For our boy?” To you, it would honor a dear friend of yours who you lost.

To Sandor it would remind him of the man who you were first intended to marry, “Loras?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“Alright…” You said with a sigh, understanding his hesitation, “Jon.” You said with a nod, “The name of my father, and my cousin.”

“Jon Clegane.” He said almost proudly as he looked at the boy in his arm, “Let’s hope he does not bring any more filth to the name.” He said half seriously.

“He won’t!” You said with a gentle slap to his arm, “He is a sweet boy, you can tell.” You said with a smile.

“Aye, with you for a mother he’ll have to be.” He said as he admired the boy. His eyes then wandered towards the tiny babe in his other arm, “The girl?” He asked.

“First born. My heir.” You said with a warm smile, reaching out to her. Sandor gently placed her in your arms. “She should be given a name no one in either our lines have been given.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Once the names were given and decided, a raven was sent to the Vale where Jon and Lord Royce held control over the East and made sure Baelish remained in his sky cell whilst you labored.

Lord Royce was first to read the letter. Then he gave it to Jon.

Jon elated that you were safe, and so were your babes. He stepped out of the Eyrie seeing the sea of men who had fought for the siege of the Eyrie.

He shouted, “Your Lady has birthed an heir! A healthy daughter! Eira Arryn, first of her name!” The men cheered, raising their swords in the air. Not only was the Eyrie now back in the possession of the Arryns, the line was secured. “That is not all!" Jon shouted, "It is twins! The Lady has given the vale a healthy son! Jon Clegane!”

The men again, cheered and celebrated your successful delivery. It was a joyous day. An extravagant celebration was no doubt on the way for your children. And a trial was on the way for Baelish.

But it all could wait, you had at last found peace.

NOTE: It makes me sad to say… but the next chapter is the finale…

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

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ja3hwa · 1 year ago

Text

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡

Day 31 : Trick Or Teat

【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.

『Word count』 : 7.01k

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader]

[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.

I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡

Check out the mini series masterlist -> [Here]

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two

The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.

Vampires.

You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.

You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.

"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.

Why, you may ask?

Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.

"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."

His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.

"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.

“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.

“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.

“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.

“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.

Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.

What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.

“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.

You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.

You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.

This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.

His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”

His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.

A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”

Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.

“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.

You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.

“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”

Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.

He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”

His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”

The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”

You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.

A blood sucking vampire.

You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….

“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.

Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—

"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.

"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...

"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.

So there's three of them that live here?

"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.

"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.

He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."

You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."

"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."

You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."

Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”

Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”

Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.

There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.

Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.

Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.

“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.

“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.

And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.

“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.

“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.

“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.

“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.

“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?

“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.

“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.

“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?

“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.

“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.

“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”

His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.

“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.

“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…

“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.

“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.

“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.

“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.

The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.

“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.

“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.

“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”

“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”

You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”

“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.

“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.

You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.

“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.

“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”

The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”

You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”

“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.

Pathetic human. Digusting pig.

Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.

“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”

Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.” he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”

The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.

“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.

“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.

He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.

-♥︎

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