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gojoux · 4 months

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『 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 』

· Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

· Summary: Life has decided to lead you to him or lead him to you, knowing that you two are destined together despite your differences. This told story is just a glimpse of a few memories between you and him, one that he remembers dearly.

· CW: 8.6k // Mostly fluff. True Form!Sukuna. Heian Era. Overprotective + Possessive Sukuna. Very subtle sex scenes. Slight violence.

Late post because the app screwed me over a divider. As you see... it’s thicker like him than usual.

The infamous King of Curses had only one weakness—you.

Ryomen Sukuna, the most fearsome sorcerer (or used to be one) alive, would melt in your presence. His usual cold and cruel demeanor vanished when he was with you, replaced by a gentle sweetness he showed to no other.

From the very first moment your paths crossed, he was utterly enthralled, something he would never expect to feel in his life. You’re someone he doesn’t even know or heard of and he doesn’t find the appeal from you, but there’s just something about you that makes him enchanted at first sight.

Your luminous soul called to him like a song. He knew you were destined to be his. And so he courted you as tenderly as his blackened heart would allow, coaxing you to return his affections.

Slowly, gently, he broke down your defenses. His smoldering gazes made your heart flutter. His feather-light touches from his big, strong hands and fingers sent shivers down your spine. Before long, you realized you were falling for this demon who looked at you with such longing in his crimson eyes.

He could shower you with all the passion and devotion he had been holding back. He cherishes you, catering to your every desire. Just being near you was euphoric for him.

When apart, he counted the seconds until he could see you again. And when reunited, he was unable to keep his hands off you, showering you with passionate kisses and whispers of sweet words.

“You are mine. Remember that,” he would murmur against your skin as he held you close. “Always.”

You had tamed the beast. Or so you thought.

While Sukuna was nearly defenseless against your love, it also ignited something far more sinister—his jealousy.

The mere idea of losing you made his blood burn with rage. Other men were not even permitted to look at you, lest they get torn limb from limb.

Though deeply in love, Sukuna’s possessive nature remained. And woe befall any who dared threaten what was his.

The first time it happened was weeks after you’d become his. A young lord from a clan sent you gifts and flowers, seeking your affection. When Sukuna discovered this, the fury in his eyes turned them molten gold.

“He dares think he can steal you away from me?” Sukuna seethed. In an instant, he vanished to hunt down the offending lord.

He returned hours later drenched in blood that was not his own. You shuddered to imagine what cruel fate had befallen the misguided young man. Sukuna said nothing of it, simply pulled you into a bruising kiss and swore you’d never leave his side again.

After that, the corpses started piling up.

A guard who eyed you lasciviously, eviscerated.

A peasant whose longing stare lingered too long, executed.

Anyone who so much as looked at you with desire was signing their own death warrant.

You begged Sukuna to show mercy, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. “They try to take what is mine,” he would snarl. “They deserve no less than agony and death.”

His demonic nature had fully resurfaced, and you realized just what you had unleashed. Sukuna would slaughter legions and burn the world to ashes if it meant keeping you.

You were terrified of what he had become. Yet some traitorous part of you thrilled at being so coveted, so passionately loved, even if it came at a bloody cost.

He was an obsession incarnate, and you, his obsession.

No matter where you turned, his shadow loomed.

There would be no escaping the King of Curses’ dark desires.

You were his.

How did it all start? It’s been too long since it went past your head already.

But you do remember vividly when you were walking that one night when your gut told you not to, you did.

You should have listened to your instincts. But there was something about the forest at night that called to you, beckoning you to explore its moon-bathed paths and whispering trees.

Curiosity won out over caution, and you decided one quick walk couldn’t hurt.

You set out just after sunset, relishing the kiss of cool night air on your skin. The woods were serene and lovely in the deep blue hush just before true darkness fell. Night blooms perfumed the air as you wandered along aimlessly, simply savoring this secret world.

Until you realized you had lost your way. Suddenly the trees seemed more ominous, the shadows deeper. You paused, peering anxiously through the gloom.

How long have you been walking?

Which way was home?

As you turned around in circles trying to get your bearings, a blow of wind appeared behind you. You froze, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You whipped around with a gasp. Emerging from the trees was a tall, powerfully built man. But what drew your wide-eyed stare were the four arms crossed onto his bare, toned chest.

You stumbled back in terror, but he moved unnaturally fast, appearing before you in an instant. Up close, details that had escaped you at a distance were now frighteningly clear. Tattoos are carved on his face and body. His eyes burned crimson.

You were face to face with the King of Curses himself.

“Please…” you whimpered, trembling. “I mean no trespass...”

Sukuna tilted his head, considering you with evident amusement. He reached out an arm towards you, his fingers gliding along your jaw, tipping your chin up. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for death.

But instead of tearing you apart, he simply chuckled. “Open your eyes. I will not harm you.”

You cracked them open hesitantly. Sukuna was observing you closely now, intrigued.

“Fear not. I merely wondered who was wandering my woods at this late hour,” he purred. “But I see now… you are no threat at all.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle as he traced the line of your throat. You shivered but did not dare pull away. The heat of his skin felt feverish against yours.

“What brings you here to me, I wonder?” he murmured, his piercing gaze seeming to lay your soul bare.

He tutted, circling you slowly. “These woods are dangerous at night, especially for tempting morsels like yourself. Do you have any idea what lurks in the shadows?” He paused expectantly, but you were too petrified to respond.

You licked your dry lips nervously. “I… I was simply exploring. I did not mean to disturb—”

“Quiet.” A finger pressed lightly over your mouth. “How shall I punish this trespass? I do hate uninvited guests.”

You finally found your voice, though it trembled pitifully. “P-please, I meant no intrusion. If you let me go, I swear I will never—”

“Let you go?” Sukuna tilted his head, looking almost offended. “Now, why would I do that? No, you will not be leaving.”

Your heart hammered at those enigmatic words. Just what did this dangerous being want with you? Surely not anything good.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna laughed once more. “Worry not, little one. I only wish for some company.” In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you, caging you with his body. This close, the heat pouring off him was incredible, the coils of his tattoos seeming to slither and shift before your eyes with your heart hammering wildly.

A violent shudder went through you, though not entirely from fear now. Being clasped in his strong embrace had stirred something unexpected within you. A strange exhilaration at having caught the eye of this exotic and terrible being.

He leaned down, inhaling deeply near the crook of your neck. “Mm, such fear. I can taste it rolling off your skin… intoxicating.” His lips grazed your fluttering pulse, making you shudder. “You are afraid, yet also thrilled to see me, aren’t you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it that obvious, the traitorous excitement you felt being so close to this dangerous demon? You just couldn’t tear your eyes away from his unusual beauty.

“I thought so,” he purred, looking utterly satisfied. He brushed a finger lightly down your cheek. “It seems fate has brought you to me for a reason.”

Sukuna sensed your reaction and made a small pleased noise. In one smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms and started carrying you deeper into the woods.

You gasped, hands braced against the solid muscles of his shoulder. “Where are you taking me? Please, I never meant to intrude! I am sorry! just—”

“Shut it.” His grip tightened. “Do not fight me. Submit, and it will go easier for you.”

Tears of panic spilled down your cheeks. But despite your fear, you felt your body responding to his proximity, pulsing with alarming warmth. Your thoughts scattered as Sukuna claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, tasting your helpless whimper.

“What are you…” you gasped, too speechless to find a word to fight back.

As if reading your mind again, Sukuna adjusts the way he’s carrying you to brush his lips against your own in a feather-light caress. “I hope you are not too afraid, little one. I have been alone for so long, you will keep me company. And I have no intention of letting you go.”

Some part of you recognized the truth in his words. No matter how your mind recoiled, your body was betraying you, longing for more of his addictive caresses. He sensed your crumbling resistance, his smile triumphant.

“You are mine now. Do not fight it.”

You stared around in awe at the sprawling shinden-zukuri as Sukuna placed you down and led you inside. Paper screens glowed warmly with lantern light, illuminating opulent tatami rooms decorated with priceless scrolls and vases, and through meticulously tended gardens dotted with tranquil ponds. Everything about this place spoke of immense power and wealth.

It was a far cry from your own humble village dwelling. You could scarcely fathom how a demon lord had come to possess such a magnificent noble estate out here in the remote forest.

As Sukuna guided you deeper into the manse, you passed several elegantly dressed women in simple yet elegant kimonos, all keeping their gazes demurely lowered.

‘Servants,’ you realized. But where had they come from? Were they taken like how you are now? Were you about to become another of his servants?

When you reached the main manor, Sukuna slid open the screen to reveal a grand receiving chamber. Priceless ink scrolls and painted silk screens adorned the walls. The opulence was staggering.

“Do you like it?” he asked, noting your awe. “I claimed this estate long ago from its previous owners.”

You shivered at the implication behind those words but said nothing as he guided you deeper inside.

Your bemused wondering was interrupted when Sukuna slid open a screen door, ushering you into a lavish bed chamber. A large futon covered in silks took up most of the space.

“You must be weary, little one,” he stroked your hair. “Rest now. I will have my servants draw you a bath.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead before gliding from the room. Still stunned by your opulent surroundings, you wandered over to the open window. Beyond the manicured gardens and koi ponds you could see nothing but dense forest stretching endlessly. Just how far had Sukuna brought you?

You had little time to ponder before two servant women appeared, bowing deeply. They poured hot water into a carved wooden tub and then added cherry blossom-scented oils.

You let them help you disrobe and sink into the fragrant bath, the tension in your muscles unwinding. The demon’s domain was still terrifying and foreign, but you couldn’t deny the comforts he lavished upon you. His possession had a gentleness to it that left you conflicted.

This place treated you better in less than two hours than your whole life in the village.

After your bath, the servants dressed you in silken robes layered in rich hues of wisteria and spring leaves. Darkened your lips with crushed berries. They arranged your hair with jade combs and dabbed perfume at your wrists in a courtly fashion.

Examining their work in a bronze mirror, you barely recognized yourself. The simple village girl staring back from the bronze mirror was gone, replaced by someone who looked like a noblewoman.

Sukuna was waiting when you emerged, hungry eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. “Beautiful,” he pulls you close to him. His lips grazed your wrist, inhaling the perfume there. “You will come to appreciate the comforts of being mine.” His words sent an illicit tingle through you.

“Thank you,” was all you could say as you felt your body sway toward him, eyelashes fluttering downward demurely. His attentions were clouding your caution, making you forget the circumstances that had brought you here.

Sukuna seemed pleased by your response. He took your hand and led you to a candlelit room where a feast awaited. You kneeled on plush cushions across from him. There, your eyes widen at the sight—dishes you could only dream of tasting.

“Uraume is my best cook. They know how to make delicious food,” he brags, pointing at the person with white bob hair with his eyes. Uraume bowed respectfully before excusing themselves.

As the night deepened, Sukuna kept your cup full, his burning gaze holding yours in the romantic glow. Here in this place of luxury, it was easy to forget he was someone who had stolen you away.

“Come.” He held out one of his hands. “It is time you rested.”

Back in the bed chamber, he guided you down onto silken sheets while your pulse quickened. His eyes roamed your body hungrily before he leaned down to claim your lips in a deep kiss. You knew you should resist, but his touch ignited a dangerous fire inside.

His fingers trailed delicately along your skin as he peeled away each layer of your robes until you were laid bare before him. “You are so lovely, little one,” he rasped. He pressed you down into the silken futon, his eyes focused on you. “I will teach you pleasures fit for an empress,” he growled.

“And you will learn to crave my body above all else.”

His words sent a spike of fear through you, even as your traitorous body responded hungrily to his. His burning caress left no doubt of his intentions. You trembled, but didn’t refuse him.

Here in this beautiful prison, you were his to do with as he pleased. And some traitorous part of you craved to experience the passions he promised.

As Sukuna’s body covered yours, you surrendered completely to him. Within these walls, you now belonged utterly to him.

You had been living as Sukuna’s pampered pet in his lavish manor for several days now. He gifted you an ornate silk kimono, adorned your hair with jeweled combs, and ensured you lacked nothing. At night, he would lay you across silken futons and set your body aflame with new realms of pleasure.

But each morning after, as he caressed your skin and murmured endearments, doubts crept in. Were there others that he touched this way? The thought filled you with unease.

You wanted his passion reserved only for you.

When Sukuna appeared in your room this evening, he found you quiet and distant, your smile restrained. Brow furrowing, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

“What troubles you, little one? Have I not provided for you well?”

You gathered your courage. “I… I have a request, My Lord…”

He raised one brow, “Oh? Speak.”

“If we are to share such intimacy, I wish it to be only between us. No other lover, in any way.” You held his gaze evenly. “Will you vow this, please?”

For a moment Sukuna only stared, stunned by your bold demand. Then a sly smile curved his lips.

“My little one wishes to tame me, is that it?” He trailed a finger lightly down your cheek. “You seek to bind me to yourself alone?”

Heart pounding, you gave one short nod.

Sukuna threw back his head with a delighted laugh. “You fascinate me endlessly. No mortal has ever dared make demands of me.” His expression softened by looking at your innocent face. “But for you, I will agree.”

He leans down, face to face with you, “From now on, I am yours alone.”

Relief washed through you at his oath. As Sukuna drew you into a passionate kiss, you yielded completely for the first time, holding nothing back.

“My sweet, little love…” He lifted you in his arms. “I will make you forget any existed before this night.”

And he did. Laying you down, hands and lips he worshiped you, wringing gasps and cries from your lips as you arched desperately, mindless and pleading beneath him.

At the height of ecstasy, his burning gaze held yours. His heated gaze seared into yours at the pinnacle, fierce and possessive. “No other shall ever know you as I do.”

The feeling when your body joined, the sensation was beyond words, it felt like coming home. Like a missing piece of your soul had been restored. Wave after wave of bliss crested over you both, leaving you entwined in breathless ecstasy.

As lantern light faded to silvery moonbeams, Sukuna held you close, your heartbeats synchronizing. You now belonged only to each other in body, heart, and soul.

“Mine,” Sukuna rasped against your skin, his canine digging into your neck, marking you as his. “Just as I am yours. This, I vow to you, little one, from now until the end of days.”

His words echoed long in your mind, even as spent passion gave way to sleep in his enveloping embrace. The King of Curses himself was now bound to you irrevocably. And you to him.

The vow had been spoken, the ritual complete.

The days had settled into a predictable routine in Sukuna’s residence. He would vanish for hours or even full days to attend to mysterious “business”, leaving you to wander the chambers and gardens alone. You never ask where he went or what occupied him. Some fears were best left unspoken.

But your heart would lift eagerly whenever Sukuna returned, no matter how late the hour. Just knowing he had come back to you was enough. You took to waiting anxiously by the engawa, ready to greet him.

At first, he returned spotless and composed. But soon the blood became noticeable.

It would decorate his arms, spatter his chest and face in drying rust-colored patterns. The life essence of whatever poor souls had crossed him in the nearby villages. You didn’t need to ask how it got there.

The first time, you gasped and shrank back in horror. But Sukuna just smiled and opened his arms to you. “Come, let us get cleansed of the day’s exertions.”

You forced yourself to look past the gore, seeing only your demonic lord who needed tending. Taking his hand, you led him to the bath chamber.

There you gently sponged away the carnage, breathing relief when his skin emerged clean again. Sukuna watched you intently, eyes glowing with unspoken emotions. You didn’t dare examine it too closely.

When you were done, he would pull you into his lap, nuzzling against your throat almost tenderly. As if your ministries had tamed the beast lurking within.

“My little one,” he would rumble. And your heart would swell under his praises.

Before long, you began living for his returns. The hours apart stretched endlessly, your thoughts consumed with concern for his well-being. Your chest would tighten with loneliness in his absence. Maybe you craved him because you have no one to come home to, that’s why you are willing to be with him.

Surely he must share your needs, right?

The moment his shadow appeared down the corridor, you flew to him, embracing him heedless of any lingering blood. Sukuna laughed indulgently, hands gentling your desperation.

“Such passion, little one. Did you miss me so terribly?”

You nodded, not caring how you exposed your dependence on him. He tipped your chin up, his sharp eyes looking at you softly. “As I missed you. The time apart is agony.”

His admission made you smile in relief. After bathing him, you would prepare tea and draw him into quiet conversation, savoring this domestic intimacy. Here with you, he almost seemed content.

At late night, his lovemaking took on new urgency, as if reaffirming your bond. You matched his intensity, wanting to erase any distance the day had built between you.

“You are all I need,” he whispered afterward, cradling you close. And you knew then you were hopelessly lost to this dangerous creature. He had become your entire world.

When Sukuna departed each morning, part of you went with him. Until he returned to make you whole once more. There was no denying the truth—you were his, mind, body, and soul.

You see, life with Sukuna provided came at a terrible price—the waiting.

And so you hatched a plan.

You requested the finest silks from the seamstress and described the revealing garment you wished to craft. An elegant yet alluring yukata, hinting at the beauty beneath.

On the night of his homecoming, you adorned yourself carefully, arranging your hair over your bare shoulders, sketching your lips crimson. The ensemble left you feeling exposed, but also powerful.

When Sukuna entered the bed chamber, the sight of you made him halt in his tracks. Eyes widened as they traced over you hungrily, taking in every contour the diaphanous fabric outlined.

“Little one,” he rasped. “You look like divinity itself. What is all this for?”

You steeled your nerves and went to him, guiding his fingers to untie your sash with hands that trembled.

“I wish to ease your burdens tonight, My Lord. Will you permit me?”

A growl escapes his throat as your robes slip to the floor. The intensity of his gaze seared into your skin everywhere it touched. Strong arms pulled you fiercely against him.

“You test my restraint, beloved. Are you certain?”

At your whispered yes, his control shattered. With infinite care he bore you down onto silken sheets, praising every inch of newly bared flesh until you were dizzy and pleading.

Even at its peak, he kept the pace languid—long, delirious strokes of passion. The pleasure was sweet agony. You arched and moved as one, minds entwining as deeply as your bodies.

When it ended, you were changed. Sukuna held you tenderly as languor claimed you both, as if you were the most precious treasure in the world.

Perhaps you should have been afraid of this obsessive devotion. But you could not imagine life without him now.

As nice as it is living comfortably with everything provided for you, sometimes his residence becomes a gilded cage. You yearned to walk beyond the gardens, to visit the nearby villages you glimpsed from afar.

After much pleading, Sukuna finally relented. “If it will make you happy, we shall go. But you must stay close to me.” His eyes held an unspoken warning.

The day came at last. Taking his arm, you ventured out onto the winding forest paths, buzzing with excitement. Sukuna watched you closely, as if to imprint each delighted reaction.

When the first simple thatched dwellings came into view, you gasped. “Oh, look! Real village life, just as I remembered.”

“Then let us explore it,” he said indulgently, strolling by your side.

You moved through stalls selling woven reed baskets, hand-dyed yukata, and carved jade amulets. The smells of grilling fish and blossom-scented steam from tea houses mingled in the air. Your smile was radiant.

Most villagers averted their eyes and scrambled away at the sight of his presence. But their fearful deference only seemed to amuse Sukuna as he guided you along.

Pausing by a fountain, you turned joyfully to him. “Thank you for this, My Lord. I haven’t felt this happy in…” Your voice trailed off as you noticed a young man staring from across the village square. His gaze was fixed on you, his handsome face breaking into a flirtatious grin, looking at you with his eyes signaling interest.

Before you could react, Sukuna had crossed the distance between them in two swift strides. You watched in horror as he seized the insolent youth by the throat and slammed him against a wall, baring razor fangs.

“You dare look at her that way?” he thundered. The young man choked out pleas for mercy as Sukuna’s grip tightened relentlessly.

“My Lord! Stop!” You rushed over, clutching his arm. “I beg you, let him go!”

With obvious reluctance, Sukuna released his hold and stepped back. The terrified man crumpled to the ground, wheezing with his face pale. You tugged Sukuna (he didn’t resist) away quickly as onlookers gaped.

Once you were back within the secluded forest path, he rounded on you. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded, eyes still burning with fury. “That whelp was openly desiring what is mine.”

You trembled. “He meant no true offense, My Lord.”

Sukuna exhaled harshly, drawing you against him. “You are too forgiving, little one. Next time I may not be so lenient.” The promise in his voice chilled you.

Nonetheless, in the days that followed, you persuaded him to let you visit the village markets again. Sukuna acquiesced, but his mood turned brooding whenever you went out together.

It was not long before a repeat incident occurred. A passing noble’s gaze lingered on you a moment too long. Sukuna's reaction was swift and merciless. Before you could intervene, the shrieking lord was engulfed in infernal flames, his ashes scattering to the wind.

This time, Sukuna was deaf to your pleas for restraint. “They continue testing me, presuming they can admire my possession with impunity,” he snarled. “I will suffer this insult no more.”

Numb with horror, you could say nothing as he took your arm and led you from that place of death.

Sukuna would never change his nature. His jealousy and possessiveness were as innate as the demonic power coursing through his veins. And you were helpless to curb them.

Trying to tame such a savage spirit had been foolish. Where his claim over you was concerned, no mercy would ever sway him.

The journey back to the estate was made in tense silence. You could feel the rage rolling off Sukuna in scorching waves as he strode ahead. His jaw was granite, fists clenched and shaking.

Only once you were behind the privacy of the chamber walls did he finally unleash it.

“How can you defend him?” he roared, making you flinch. “Those pathetic mortals who dared to covet what is not theirs. It is unacceptable!”

You stood your ground. “I make no defense, only ask that you temper reactions. This endless jealousy causes nothing but suffering.”

Sukuna’s eyes blazed, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. “You ask me to watch passively as they dishonor my claim on you? To permit their vulgar ogling?” He swept a hand savagely across a lacquered table, sending the vase crashing.

You jumped at the destruction but forced yourself to meet his volcanic glare. “I am not possession or prize to be claimed, My Lord. You cannot punish all for one foolish man’s gaze. I have told you this before, but I am not harmed.”

“Not harmed?” Sukuna bellowed, slamming his fists into the bloodwood pillar with a crack. “Not yet! But their desire will grow brazen if I do not act decisively now.”

He stormed toward you, making you back away instinctively. “You are mine. No other shall covet or touch what belongs to me. I would see this whole wretched village burn first.”

As his tirade raged on, you felt tears rising, spilling silently down your cheeks. The possessive diatribes, the limitless fury—you were exposing the folly of trying to gentle the devil’s heart.

Sukuna abruptly halted his pacing at the sight, chest heaving. His blazing eyes took in your hunched, trembling form. For an instant, something like shock flickered across his face. He blinked rapidly, swaying slightly.

“No… My little love…” All at once, the frenzied anger seemed to drain from him. He reached for you hesitantly, as if expecting you to recoil. When you stayed rooted, he enfolded you in his shaking arms.

“Forgive me,” Sukuna whispered. “I should not have raised my voice. But the thought of losing you…” One hand stroked your hair, then gently tipped your chin up. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your skin.

“You are everything to me in this wretched world,” he murmured. “I could not bear it if harm befell you.” His eyes were molten and his voice raw. “Tell me you know I would never let anything hurt you, not even myself in the madness of my rage.”

You searched his face and saw the sincerity burning there. With a fragile nod, you laid your head against his chest. His exhale was ragged with relief.

“I will try to be more merciful. For you, at least,” he sighs. “But you must understand it rages in my blood when I see them desire my most precious treasure.”

You stayed silent in his embrace. Perhaps this was the most he could concede—ferocity tempered with remorse. You could not change his possessive heart, only help him master what flowed within it.

And for now, it would have to be enough. His jealousy was a storm that would never fully be calmed. But like the storm’s eye, at the center there was still tenderness he reserved only for you.

Once more, the days dragged endlessly when Sukuna was away. You had explored every corner of the estate a dozen times over. The loneliness gnawed at you.

So when he left at dawn one morning, you made an impulsive decision. Donning a cloak, you slipped outside the manor walls while the servants slept. Your steps quickened as you neared the hill path leading down to the village.

You had only meant to take a brief, harmless walk to lift your spirits. But the smells of grilled squid and sweet adzuki buns drew you like a magnet. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you it had been ages since you tasted simple street food.

Checking over your shoulder, you darted to the nearest food stall when no one was looking. The elderly vendor smiled in delight as you pointed to the snacks that tempted you most. It felt deliciously naughty, this minor rebellion.

You were waiting for the bamboo skewer of piping hot squid when someone jostled you from behind. Whirling around angrily, you found yourself staring up at a rugged, unkempt man looming over you. His bloodshot eyes raked down your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Well now, what do we have here?” His words slurred drunkenly. “You’re that demon’s little toy, ain’t ya? His pretty pet.”

When you shrank away, the brute caught your wrist in a painful grip. Revulsion rose in you. “Let go of me!”

The man just sneered. “Where is your master now, hmm? Bet he doesn’t like you sneakin’ off alone.” He swayed closer, sour breath hot on your face. “Maybe I oughta teach you some manners, whore.”

Outraged tears stung your eyes. You opened your mouth to scream for help when suddenly the man’s hand was wrenched away from you with a sickening crack. His shriek split the air.

Whirling around, you saw Sukuna standing there, eyes blazing infernos. The man who had seized you was now suspended off the ground, clutching his mangled, dangling arm.

“Please, mercy!” he whimpered piteously. But Sukuna’s face was a merciless stone.

With a snarl, he slammed the offender down, pinning him by the throat. “You dare speak to her that way?” His voice was deathly quiet. “Dare lay your filthy hands upon her?”

The man gurgled pleas, legs kicking uselessly. Sukuna tightened his grip. “No. There will be no mercy for you.”

And before your eyes, he ripped the man’s head from his body in one savage motion. Blood sprayed hot across your face and cloak. The headless corpse slumped with a wet thud that echoed horribly in your ears.

You stood there, frozen. You’re sick to the stomach—it’s nauseating—looking at the brutal sight that your lover could do.

Rooted in shock, you barely registered Sukuna turning to you. He grasped your shoulders firmly. “Did he hurt you?” At your numb shake of the head, fiery rage flooded back into his eyes.

“Good. Because I would have drawn out his torment for years if he had.” With that, Sukuna flung the lifeless body contemptuously through the door of a nearby hut.

Screams arose from within as you stared at the gore coating Sukuna’s hands. The brutality finally jolted you from horrified paralysis. Voice trembling, you begged him to take you home.

The journey back was made in silence. Once behind the walls, Sukuna rounded on you like the last time.

“How could you go without my permission?” He paced like a caged beast. “See what nearly befell you? The filth who could do anything to you?”

You flinched beneath the verbal onslaught, too numb to defend yourself as he kept raging.

“You are forbidden from leaving again! Do you understand?” He seized your shoulders roughly. “It is too dangerous for you.”

You nodded, mute and hollow. With a harsh exhale, Sukuna pulls you against him as four of his arms envelop you in a warm embrace, some of the frantic anger leaving him.

“Forgive my harsh words, my little love. But I do not like you being treated like that.” His voice broke on the last word. He clutched you tighter, as if to reassure himself you were real.

After that day, whispers followed you through the residence like ghosts, for no clear reason. Servants offering polite smiles that never reached their eyes, only to resume their hushed gossip once you’d passed.

At first, you tried ignoring the sidelong glances and murmurs. But still, the cruel words leaked through.

“She is just a plaything to him.”

“Once the master is bored, she will be discarded.”

“He is only using her on the bed.”

“Once he tires of those pleasures, her time here will end.”

Their cruel words haunted you, sinking claws into vulnerabilities you’d buried deep. Did they speak the truth? Was your whole purpose here just to entertain Sukuna’s baser appetites? The thought you might be expendable shook you to your core.

You managed to conceal your anguish and distress at first. But the doubts festered, stealing your appetite and sleep. When Sukuna finally noticed the toll on your health, alarm flared in his eyes.

Gently taking your hands, he scoops you onto his lap, facing him. “What is bothering your pretty little head, hm? You know you can tell me anything.”

You shook your head, “It is nothing, My Lord. Not a big problem.”

“I do not like you lying to me, little one,” he shakes his head, not buying your secrecy.

“I am okay. Please, no need to be concerned about me.”

“How can I not? What is it? Tell me,” he holds your chin still to make you look at him.

Both of your stubborn banter goes back and forth until you’re both getting impatient.

You wavered, then spilled out the vile gossip you’d endured in silence. Sukuna listened gravely, thumb idly stroking your wrist. When you finished, he let out a long breath, gazing at you earnestly

“You believe their hateful lies? That you are some plaything to me? You know in your heart these claims are untrue.” He grasped your shoulders, staring intently into your eyes. “You are everything. Your faith in me is worth more than a million mortal lifetimes.”

He brought your hand to his chest, holding it over his steadily beating heart. “Do not let petty jealousies make you doubt what we share.”

Overwhelmed, you buried your face against him. “Forgive my doubts, My Lord,” you whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive. The fault is theirs, not yours.” Stroking your hair, he pressed a fierce kiss to your head. Then his tone turned cold. “As for these spiteful women, I will make them regret ever speaking such lies.”

You quickly squeezed his hands. “Please, do not harm them. I only wished to explain my melancholy, not see others punished.”

Sukuna frowned. “You ask me to ignore those who hurt you so? Who makes you doubt my devotion?” His grip on you tightened. “I cannot be so forgiving.”

“I know it comes from care,” you soothed. “But replying to anger with more anger will only breed misery.”

He paused, then exhaled harshly, pulling you close. Resting his forehead to yours, he went on. “I swear to you, my feelings run deeper than they comprehend.”

“Leave this to me now, little one. Just rest easy.”

True to his word, the gossip ceased quickly. You didn’t ask what Sukuna said or did to silence loose tongues. But the servants now bent over backward to please you, their once spiteful eyes now carefully respectful.

Their newfound reverence somehow bothered you more. But Sukuna seemed satisfied. “Let the wretches make amends for causing you pain,” he said nonchalantly.

Some part of you recoiled at his methods. Yet it warmed your heart to know he would avenge any slight against you without hesitation. Perhaps it was wrong to take comfort from his possessiveness.

But you needed to feel cherished after so much doubt. And Sukuna left no room for uncertainty in how deeply he treasured you. Each tender glance and touch slowly healed the wounds until you were whole again.

When he came to you beneath the silken sheets now, the passion held new meaning. A reaffirming of what you were to each other.

You were his sanctuary. Just as he was yours.

The gossip no longer stung when you knew his heart with such certainty.

Sukuna had told you he was taking a few days off to spend with you. With him home beside you for a blessed few days, the gloom cast over the estate seemed to lift. His four muscular arms caged you securely against his broad chest as you sank comfortably into his embrace.

He was attentive in ways you’d never seen before, constantly drawing you into his arms, asking questions about your childhood, your dreams, anything to get to know you better.

At first, you were shy, unused to being the object of such focused interest. But Sukuna’s patient gentleness soon had the words spilling freely from your lips.

You happily opened up to him in turn, chatting lightly about your days spent tending the garden, studying scripture with the monks, or watching the koi fish circle lazily in their pond. No detail was too small or mundane—he drank in every insight into your character with eyes that never once glazed in boredom.

He listened intently, his crimson eyes focused solely on you. As frightening as he could be, you knew this powerful being cherished you in his own way. You were likely the only person in the world he cared for.

When you finally worked up the courage to ask about his early life in turn, his gaze darkened briefly. “There is little of worth to tell,” he muttered.

He went on tonelessly to describe his parents casting him out as an infant, cursing his existence. Forced to eke out a living on the streets, he learned quickly that mercy was for the weak.

“I was not always like this,” he rumbled. “Once I was a human, born to parents who did not want me.” His fingers tensed where they rested on your back. “As an infant, they discarded me on the streets to die. But I survived, growing up feral and alone.”

You looked up at him sadly, heart aching at the thought of him helpless and abandoned with no one to care for him. You raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek.

Sukuna closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “I do not tell you this for pity,” he said firmly. “My past made me strong.”

His eyes opened again. “When my cursed technique manifested, I used them without mercy, cutting down any who dared stand in my way. I reveled in my growing strength, the thrill of battle and blood... they satisfied me. I honed my skills until I became unmatched.”

You nodded solemnly. His description matched the legends told of the terrifying Ryomen Sukuna.

Now you know why he lacked mercy.

You take his hands in yours, kissing his palms. “The past is behind you now,” you told him. “What matters is who you choose to be from this day forth. My love for you is unconditional.” You smiled up at him warmly. “But I promise to teach you the ways of empathy and love, even if you protest.”

Sukuna huffed in amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Little one, you may try, but do not expect miracles. I am what I am.” But his embrace around you was gentle, belying his words.

You poked his chest teasingly. “I will make it my mission to show you how wonderful love can be, the joys it brings to our lives.” Laughing, you added, “Just you wait, I will have you reciting poetry and picking wildflowers before long!”

“Hmph, do not get carried away,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was secretly pleased by your playful vow.

You cuddled against his chest, determined to shower this damaged soul with all the love and tenderness he had missed in his tragic early years.

The next morning, as soft sunlight filtered into the bedroom, you lay wrapped in Sukuna’s strong embrace. Your head rested on his muscular chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His breathing was slow and even, still asleep.

You traced idle patterns on his bare skin, your fingertips grazing over the tattoos adorning his body. Your mind drifted back to the conversation from the night before when Sukuna had told you a bit of his past.

Abandoned and unloved, forced to survive on his own from infancy. Your heart ached for the small, helpless babe he had been. The thought of him growing up without affection or care weighed heavily on you.

You understood now why love and empathy were so foreign to him. But you were determined to show Sukuna what he had missed, to fill his long existence with the warmth and joy he deserved.

Your short mortal life worried you, however. Sukuna had lived for centuries, he would go on existing long after you passed on. Would he find someone new to love? How would losing you affect him? Immortal beings were not meant to give their hearts to fleeting humans.

You must have tensed in concern, because Sukuna began stirring, his four arms instinctively tightening around you. “What troubles you so early, little one?” his deep voice rasped, still groggy with sleep.

You tilted your head up to peer at him. “I was thinking about what you told me last night, about your past. My heart breaks imagining you alone as a child.”

He regarded you seriously. “It was long ago. Dwelling on what cannot be changed is pointless.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I only wish I could have cared for you then. But now I worry… what will happen when I am gone? My life is so short compared to yours. Will you find someone new to love?” Your voice caught on the last word as you averted your gaze. You weren’t sure you even wanted to hear the answer.

He was silent. When you worked up the courage to look at him again, his crimson eyes were looking at you intensely. With a swift, motion he flipped you beneath him, bracing his weight above you and capturing your face between his big hands.

“You think I could simply replace you when death takes you from me?” His thumb brushed your cheek tenderly. “No other has touched my soul as you have. Long was my existence before you, yet I was empty.” Leaning down, he touched his forehead to yours.

“Your fragile mortality may one day steal you from my side, but what we have cannot be replicated or replaced.” He lifted his head to gaze deeply into your eyes.

“When you are gone, I will be lost again. I accept that your life must end as mine continues.” His jaw clenched. “But I will find no peace with another. What we have is beyond replacement.”

Tears blurred your vision at his heartfelt words. You had not realized the depth of his attachment, that the absence of your love would leave him emotionally desolate.

You threw your arms around his broad shoulders. “Then we must make the most of the time we have,” you declared. “Fill our days with so much joy that you will carry the warmth of our love for eternity.”

Sukuna wrapped you tightly in his embrace. “Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling your neck. “I will cherish every precious moment with you, little one.”

His words made your heart clench, but you understood, he would never love another as he had you. Your lives were tragically misaligned, yet the love you shared transcended such limits.

You spent the day wrapped up in Sukuna, exchanging tender caresses, murmuring sweet nothings, strolling the grounds hand-in-hand. Every shared laugh, every affectionate glance was savored, imprinting your bond ever deeper.

As the sun sets in glorious color, you lay entwined together beneath the cover of a wisteria tree. Your head rested over Sukuna’s heart as he gently stroked your hair. His steady heartbeat and the rhythmic rise of his chest were deeply comforting.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered.

“As do I, little one,” he replied, his voice tinged with melancholy. “But we cannot halt the merciless passage of time.”

You leaned up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “No matter how short my life, I am grateful every moment of it is spent with you.”

Sukuna cradled you close, distress evident in his eyes. “When I am alone again, I will find comfort in the memories we have.”

His grip on you tightened, as if he could hold you to this world through will alone. You tilted your head back to peer up at him. “And when I am gone, will you be okay?”

“I will endure it. As I have endured all hardship in my long life.” He traced his thumb lightly down your cheek. “It will not feel the same, my little love. But do not worry about me, I will be fine.”

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his normally stoic demeanor. On impulse, you stretched up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Sukuna went still for a heartbeat before responding in kind, lips moving gently against yours.

“Then do not dwell on the inevitable end,” you cup his face in your hands. “Think only of how much we mean to each other now. If my love can sustain you even a little while after I am gone, that will be enough.”

Sukuna pressed his forehead to yours. “I will brace it when the time comes. But for now, my world is only you.”

You kissed him tenderly, then settled against his chest once more. Bittersweet joy swelled your heart, knowing you had brought some warmth into Sukuna’s grim existence. Though fleeting and painfully finite, your mortal love was a balm to his ancient, scarred soul.

The years passed swiftly. Sukuna remained your steadfast companion as you grew from a young woman into old age. He was always there to hold you close, whisper endearments, make you laugh with his wit.

In the blink of an eye, your hair became streaked with silver. Your smooth skin wrinkled and your energy waned. But your love never faded.

Sukuna stayed by your side as you grew frail, cradling you tenderly through restless nights, patiently spoon-feeding you broth when eating became difficult. His eyes reflected centuries of sadness knowing your time grew short.

Finally, you lay weakly upon your futon as he stayed close by your side. Your breathing turned ragged and a violent cough wracked your body. He gathered you gently into his arms.

“The end is near, my little one,” he murmured, smoothing back your thin hair.

You gave him a quivering smile. “I am ready. Just stay with me, please.”

He pressed his lips to your wrinkled forehead. “Always.”

You spent your final moments gazing up at his face, etched into your mind after so many years together. His image would be the last you saw in this life. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes for the final time.

Sukuna let out a broken noise, pulling you tightly to his chest as your body went limp. Rocking your still form, he wept for the first time in his long existence. Anguished sobs wracked his powerful frame.

He had known this moment would come, yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer devastation of losing you. It felt as though part of his soul had been ripped away.

Sukuna had guarded your mortal form night and day in those final years. Now you slipped away before his eyes, leaving him utterly alone. The crushing pain made him understand the human concept of a “broken heart”.

But he took comfort knowing you had passed peacefully in his embrace. The only mercy was that you were spared a drawn-out decline. He had filled your short life with as much love as one man could give. He has known you for a short time compared to how you’ve known him for most of your life.

Wiping his eyes, Sukuna pressed final kisses to your cooled skin. He would honor you with a funeral befitting royalty. Then he must decide where to wander next. This place held too many haunting memories now.

Sukuna laid you gently on the futon and stood. He cast one last anguished look at your still face.

“My beloved…” he whispered. “No other shall ever take your place.”

Then he turned and strode from the room, jaw clenched against a fresh onslaught of grief. His steps were heavy with the unbearable burden of immortality and loss.

No, he doesn’t cremate you despite having the ability to do so. He doesn’t even want to think of burning you to ashes, or he might as well lose it and burn the world with it for taking you away too soon.

He buried you beneath the cherry tree where you’d spent so many blissful hours in his arms. He marked the site with a stone monument etched with his promise:

“In this life or the next, you are mine. None will ever love you as I have, little one.”

His task complete, Sukuna wandered for many years after. Though the sharp pain dulled to a persistent ache, the emptiness inside him never abated. He fulfilled his promise and took no other lovers, knowing they could only ever be hollow substitutes.

He will wait until his time comes no matter how long it takes to see you again in the afterlife.

He will wait long enough to see you reborn and claim you one more as his.

But the thing he knows for sure, you will always belong to no one but him.

I got emotional and carried away, I’m sorry 😭😭

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kamaluhkhan · 4 months

Text

GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)

read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)

summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.

warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡

author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex)

if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you.

no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.

you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not.

you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.

everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp.

and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.

you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld.

you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do.

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it.

you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost —

the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing.

your eyelids fluttered open.

it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.

standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan.

he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.

"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.

lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury.

"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”

you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him.

lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room.

“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.”

“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.”

he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones.

you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.

“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”

luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.

“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?”

clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“what are you doing here?” he practically growled.

“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”

at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with.

it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess.

needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend.

but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you.

“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia.

even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more.

“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”

“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.”

clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.

“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned.

“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.

“are you feeling okay?”

“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.

a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.

“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”

you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence.

when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.

it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay.

manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal.

despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.

“luke.”

for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.

he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him.

you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin.

“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”

you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh.

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?”

luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too.

you gripped his wrist to steady him.

“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours.

“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”

“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”

he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close.

“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you.

you refused to lose hope.

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.

“but —”

“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?”

as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action.

chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.

luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.

you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.

after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.

“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth.

you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.

“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier.

no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it.

you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him.

when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering.

“thanks, karma.”

you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin.

“what happened? did clarisse —”

“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied.

you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.

“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile.

it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher.

fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family.

the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family.

you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you.

the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin.

(ii. he had an ego)

according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.

she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.”

annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast.

"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive."

"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate.

"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight."

you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.

“nice work, rodriguez.”

"we're going out tonight?"

you pressed your knee to luke's under the table.

"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate."

so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed.

there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol.

"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!"

everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks.

the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.

for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.

there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends — the people you loved — had beat the odds.

so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental?

beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out.

under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones.

whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire.

“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.

his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips.

to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since.

not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric.

you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.

so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music.

after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.

“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”

“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.

it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core.

“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”

“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”

your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon.

the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.

and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.

you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right?

luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something.

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it.

before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?

luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more.

you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at.

“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.

silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink.

“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”

“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”

“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.

“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10 denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”

“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.”

you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry.

“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip.

“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen.

“well, we aren’t.”

that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner.

“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.

suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier.

“i am not a coward.”

without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you.

part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat.

“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea.

“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?”

someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger.

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.”

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.

the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.

“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.

"i don't owe you anything."

"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.

you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.

“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”

“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”

his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —

you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.

“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady.

it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender.

“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”

you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix.

“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.”

“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted.

you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process.

you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you.

he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends.

“see what i mean?”

“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”

oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….

“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded.

“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.”

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."

rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.

you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire.

“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk.

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?”

“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”

you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”

“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”

he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night.

“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”

“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.”

luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe.

“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.”

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."

"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too."

"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?"

luke turned towards the exit.

"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?"

luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."

his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker.

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere.

he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.

when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura.

ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin.

you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother.

“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”

“actually, we were just —”

“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning.

“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance.

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed.

once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly.

“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.

“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”

you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.

“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained.

“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”

you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend.

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?”

clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style.

you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:

luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”

“we all are,” you pointed out.

“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”

you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it.

“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile.

“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?”

you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.

at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.

he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?

you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.

(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)

it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.

it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend.

luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic.

you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through.

no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same.

that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous.

“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?”

“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin."

"that’s only if we get caught."

luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.

it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much.

zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.

"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.

you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.

it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming. the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.

luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.

he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your come.

"yes, sweetheart?"

“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned.

once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.

“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you.

“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away.

you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”

“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.

you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. it might have been strange, but you had a favorite — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.

if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it.

“eyes up here, beautiful.”

when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.

“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

“yes,” you finally answered. "please."

luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin.

after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard, to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too.

there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.

you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit.

“do you see my shirt there?”

luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:

“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”

you placed your hands on his cheeks.

“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.

but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you.

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine.

“if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”

luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you.

“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”

“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke.

thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second.

you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.

“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”

“sparring?”

“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”

“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”

“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”

you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted.

“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.

“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”

as if either of you could forget marathoning the entire twilight saga with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.

zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.

luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.

luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.

“easy there, edward,” you joked, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck.

you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen.

“this is the skin of a killer, bella!” he mimicked.

you laughed at the reference, but when luke seemed to realize what he said, you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips, though you didn't know why.

“i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

“you won’t.”

at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing.

for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.

you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.

the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?

in the words of bella swan: he was the one you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with.

except your life wasn't some cliché yet endearing love story about fictional vampires and werewolves.

it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late.

(v. he made you look so naive)

there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous.

luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die.

you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.

dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.

“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, as usual.

you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left.

“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.

you narrowed your eyes at him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly.

a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath.

“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”

“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”

your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.

you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.

because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?

luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.

you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)

the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums.

it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.

you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp.

but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup.

sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life.

you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with.

you missed —

no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore.

you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds.

before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse.

and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”

ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday.

i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken.

i can’t stand to hear your name

you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you.

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up.

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed.

as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.

those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded.

so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light.

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends.

as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor.

“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”

“because i’m alone.”

“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”

after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about.

luke tried again.

“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.”

you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him.

“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.

“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip.

“no. you don’t get to just —”

the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.

“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?”

“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”

his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness.

she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.

“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded.

“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”

stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing.

“great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”

you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise.

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.

“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”

“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”

“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”

luke stared at you. you glared back at him.

“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension.

you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away.

“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”

“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”

kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”

baby. you could have laughed.

“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed.

“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”

“that’s not my home.”

out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time.

you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes.

luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.

you stepped in front of luke.

“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”

kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws.

“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards.

you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again.

again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break.

it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of.

you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife.

you were definitely out of practice.

“kelli!”

you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.

“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.

you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other.

luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.

“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.

“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.”

to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.

“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”

“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.

the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled.

“okay, we need to get you —”

“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced.

the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.

“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”

you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.

“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”

“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”

“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”

looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped.

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”

luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”

you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home.

(vii. he loved you �� and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)

your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.

“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”

you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid kit.

luke knelt down in front of you.

“can i take your shirt off?”

you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar.

there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.

at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too.

what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.

and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

“wait. what happened?”

“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.

“luke.”

“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”

kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember.

wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him.

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded.

the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.

like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.

“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.

our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that.

“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”

you couldn’t help but add that last part.

“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle.

you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.

it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream.

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less.

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head.

"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."

"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking.

"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze."

"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat."

you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.

the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee.

you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.

luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.

"yeah?"

"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.

"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."

"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here."

you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything.

you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions.

once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.

"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.

"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”

you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”

luke caught your wrist before you could leave.

“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….”

his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.

“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”

“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”

something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:

“i’ll do it.”

before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.

neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him.

the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.

once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.

“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.

you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.

the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.

you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.

you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed.

neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet….

part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end.

luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.

what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —

you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.

luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.

“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.”

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along.

“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”

“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”

it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest.

how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on.

just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.

another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned.

“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”

luke swallowed thickly.

you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.

it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice.

“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”

“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate.

he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes.

“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.

luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him.

“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.

you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.

“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone.

luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:

“you’re such a —”

you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.

you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.

in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek.

“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed.

slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too.

sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.

you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some.

“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out.

what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out.

there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your back encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.

when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines.

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.

luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached.

you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.

yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.

you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.

“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again. “i missed you so fucking much.”

luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same.

it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.

you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:

“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”

you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”

“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest.

you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.

“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.

you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.

“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”

maybe that was true.

in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice.

deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?

“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago.

"i guess not."

you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.

"how's your shoulder?"

"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you."

those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.

you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle.

matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other.

"i love you too.”

at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.

maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.

luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.

you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.

#i haven't seen the finale but from the gifs my heart is already broken #and here i am breaking it more <3 #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #saf writes #Spotify #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo show #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

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Tunutu (Crush) - Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

summary: although neteyam had never reciprocated her feelings, choosing him was always an easy decision for y/n, one of those she could make in a heartbeat. so when another man tries to win her affections, neteyam suddenly becomes aware of what he has been missing out on

wc: 7,7k

contains: childhood friends to lovers, first love/puppy love, jealousy, long-time crush

a/n: the way i completely made up everything about the vayätu-creature. sometimes i just write without a plot and although i was very excited for this idea, it was so difficult to finish it. i hope you enjoy reading it, please let me know if you do

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Come on, Lo’ak, don’t take it to heart,” Kiri nudged her brother, “You know that Neteyam has been having a hard time lately, it’s not that he pushes you around on purpose.”

You emerged from behind the thick bushes, finally finding Lo’ak and Kiri sitting on a log, engrossed in a conversation. Your curiosity piqued at the mention of Neteyam.

“Why is Neteyam having a hard time?”

Kiri stiffened under your expectant gaze, but before she could even signal to Lo’ak to hold his tongue, he was already spilling out the truth. She groaned in frustration at how senseless her brother could be at times.

“Because our parents have been nagging at him to choose a mate lately.”

Neteyam must choose a mate. Your heart dropped at the statement you had been dreading to hear for years now, ever since he had first passed his Iknimaya. It was never going to be you, you were used to the thought, but nothing could have prepared for the weight of bearing it now.

“You are such a skxawng,” Kiri hissed at Lo’ak, swatting his arm. She shot you an almost apologetic glance.

“Why? It’s not like it is a secret,” Lo’ak rolled his eyes, finally drawing a connection between your sour expression and Kiri’s sudden irritation, "Neteyam has to choose a mate soon, so that the grandmother has enough time to prepare the new tsakarem. He's been putting it off for far too long."

“It is not easy to choose someone to love for a lifetime,” Kiri added with a sigh.

But it was. Choosing Neteyam was always an easy decision for you, one of those that you could make in a heartbeat. He had been your tunutu since childhood, a curious fascination with the older brother of your friends that eventually grew into a frustratingly intense crush, haunting you at every stage of your life. It was by Eywa's grace that your paths crossed with the Olo'eyktan's children when you were about six years old, learning to hunt and running through the forest together until the eclipse. On the second day of playing with Kiri and her brothers, you had boldly declared your love for Neteyam to everyone in the village, turning it into a big inside joke among the clan. If you had known that it would follow you far into your teenage years, when kids your age were relentless and cruel, you would have been more guarded about it. The guys teased Neteyam for having an admirer so clingy, it seemed as if he had grown a second tail. But no matter how much they tried to get to you with their taunts, it never seemed to bother him.

Even as a child, Neteyam had a maturity that went beyond his years. He seeked no entertainment in punishing someone for their feelings, something they cannot control. On the contrary, he admired your loyalty and dedication to him, the way you had remained his close friend, despite his gentle refusal of your romantic overtures. And so, that’s how it went. Your relationship grew stronger over the years, you learned and failed together but were always there for each other to offer a supporting shoulder. It hit a rough patch for a short period, right after both of you had completed your Iknimayas, when you tried to distance yourself from him to avoid any rumors. But Neteyam was persistent to keep your friendship, and so he did. Eventually, your feelings for him were pushed to an afterthought, as you had come to terms that Neteyam was never going to choose you. You had made peace with being just his friend, but your heart still sank at the thought that soon enough you will be replaced.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Kiri’s concerned voice caught your attention.

“Sure,” you gulped, forcing a small smile, “Lo’ak is right, it’s not like I didn’t know.”

“Right,” Lo’ak nodded hesitantly.

The siblings exchanged a knowing look. At times, your crush on Neteyam was sweet, entertaining even. But the two of them also got to live the nasty side of an unrequited love through you. Especially Kiri, who had shared the pain of knowing she couldn’t be with someone she loved, often commiserated with you in it.

“Maybe this is a sign for me to start looking too, you know? Find a mate,” your blabbered without a thought, trying to cover any traces of the stinging pain.

“Huh?” Kiri's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she glanced at Lo'ak to see if he was as taken aback as she was. This was new.

You had never expressed the desire to find a mate before. Knowing well that Neteyam did not reciprocate your feelings and there was no point in getting your hopes up, the idea of being with somebody else appeared in your mind quite frequently, you just never voiced it. It was scary, the prospect of settling for someone you loved less, simply because there was no other choice.

Your parents had often spoken of their own bond, a relationship that began as platonic and it was only natural when they decided to choose each other for their companions. Companions, not lovers. Though your mother had assured you that once they had completed a Tsaheylu, everything changed. That the blessed bond is a connection deeper than love, one that is impossible to ignore after experiencing everything your mate had gone through. So with a heavy heart, you had to accept that one day you might have to face the same fate.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay?” Lo’ak stood up from his seat and walked over to you. He placed the back of his palm against your forehead, as if checking for a fever.

“I am not ill,” you chuckled, shoving him away, “I mean, I’ve known for a long time now that I’ll have to accept the advances of another man at some point. Why dwell on something I can’t have?”

It burned your throat to say the words but it was only the truth, and truth hurt. Kiri and Lo'ak agreed hesitantly with you but were still unsure if you meant it. It was as though you were convincing yourself more than them.

“Oh, Y/N…” Kiri began but Lo’ak was quick to interrupt her.

“No, don’t do that, Kiri,” he shushed his sister before she could even express how sorry she felt for you, “You’re right, Y/N. Do you have any idea how many of my friends keep asking about you? You should get out there and have some fun, I mean, Txi’pu’s practically turning purple when he sees you.”

“Txi’pu?” you questioned, “Didn’t he tame his ikran at like… twelve?” “Yes, yet the man is flustered by your mere presence,” Lo’ak chuckled, “But he seems like a cool guy, maybe you should give him a chance.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, what’s that about?” Neteyam nudged his brother, staring in the direction where you sat.

The communal dinner was in full swing, right after Lo’ak had given Txi’pu the green light to approach you. You were engrossed in conversation with Kiri, as she nibbled on her food, when Txi’pu gathered up the courage to come up to you and offer you a plate of cut-up fruit.

Lo’ak followed his brother's line of sight and straightened immediately, intrigued by the interaction. He grinned in satisfaction, as he watched you shyly accept the gift.

“Txi’pu is going to ask Y/N out,” Lo’ak explained.

“Poor man,” Neteyam snorted, watching you intently, “She’s clearly not interested.”

Neteyam braced himself, eager to enjoy how you would decline Txi'pu's offer. He had seen you reject advances before with such poise and kindness that the men didn't even realize they were supposed to be offended. It was always amusing to watch. But as he saw you take Txi'pu's hand and stand up, a low growl rumbled in his throat.

“What’s happening?” he questioned with a strained voice.

“Looks like she said yes,” Lo’ak shrugged.

Neteyam shot his brother an angry glare, as if it was entirely his fault, before turning his attention back to you. He watched Txi'pu led you away from the clan, his eyes following the sway of your hips. Eventually, as the two of you disappeared from his line of sight, Neteyam clenched his fists so tightly that the pain from his nails digging into his palms went unnoticed.

He stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the noise surrounding him. The fiery glow of the flames painted him in a crimson hue, adding to his already intimidating demeanor. Lo’ak frowned as he watched his brother walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called out after him, but Neteyam was already gone.

That night, Neteyam laid in his hammock, unable to fall into his usual deep sleep as he gazed up at the starry sky. The distant sound of your laughter reached his ears, and he couldn't tell if it was real or just a figment of his own imagination. He had never felt this way before when you got attention from other men because you never reciprocated it. He wondered what you saw in Txi'pu. Would you be happy with a man like him?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Neteyam returned later than usual from his hunt, his body tired and mind restless from the lack of sleep. As he made his way towards the communal area, his attention was immediately drawn to you, seated with his siblings, engrossed in a conversation that seemed to captivate them. Neteyam felt a surge of energy within him at the mere sight of you talking so animatedly, he couldn’t wait to join and hear what you were saying. Quietly, he slipped in between Lo’ak and Kiri, so as to not disturb you, and his heart dropped upon the realization that the topic of the gathering was your walk with Txi’pu.

“Did he take you somewhere nice afterward?” Kiri asked, grinning.

Neteyam kept his gaze trained on the ground, not wanting to appear to be invested in your babbling about the last night, yet he hung onto every word you spoke. His patience was running thin, Kiri’s tail whacking him on the back with increasing excitement as you shared more details. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

“We went to the waterfall, the one by the cliffs,” you smiled, “It was very beautiful.”

“Oh, that’s a good spot,” Lo’ak chimed in with a mischievous grin, “Girls are always impressed when I take them there.”

“Yeah, sure, Romeo,” Kiri rolled her eyes at him.

Neteyam cleared his throat loud enough to catch your attention.

“I think it’s too cliche. The waterfall,” his voice possessed a hint of annoyance, “He clearly hadn’t put much thought into impressing you.”

“No, it totally depends on who’s taking you there,” Kiri argued.

Lo’ak intervened too, and as the two of them went back and forth about it, Neteyam’s eyes locked on yours. He studied you intensely, trying to read whatever was going on in your mind. You seemed pleased with the outcome of the last night, of the time you spent with another man. He wondered if you had truly moved on from him, and he felt a pang of guilt for secretly wishing that you hadn't. You stiffened under his penetrating gaze, sinking deeper into your seat.

"How was your hunt?" you hoped to shift the conversation away from the uncomfortable tension that had suddenly taken hold.

“Nothing special,” he shrugged, then reached for the pouch on his loincloth, taking something out of it, “Here, I brought this for you.”

Neteyam had made a sweet habit out of bringing you small treasures from his hunts. From simplest rocks to wildflowers, he always admired how you managed to turn them into something beautiful. He thought that the vibrant blue feather he found this morning would look nice braided into your hair.

You accepted it with a smile, admiring the unique pattern. And as he watched you observe it, Neteyam just couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the moment. His usually cheerful expression was clouded with gloominess. He had hoped that you would confide in him about Txi'pu's unwanted advances and ask for his help, but instead, you seemed content with the outcome of the previous night.

“Thank you, Neteyam,” you beamed at him, but he could only manage to give you a faint smile.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam tousled the edges of his loincloth, irritation babbling in his chest, tightening so hard from within, he felt like he could snap any second now. His mother’s words, usually held dear to his heart, sounded like an annoying screech, as she went over the same topic: finding a perfect mate. Somebody on whom he could rely on when he becomes the Olo’eyktan, when the responsibilities are too much to handle. That the poor girl, whoever she is, must be prepared for her role in the upcoming few years, and that unlike Neteyam, she didn’t have her whole life to train. So he was being unfair to her by postponing the decision, leaving her no time to adjust.

His grandmother sat silently not too far, hands occupied with work, as she occasionally nodded to agree with Neytiri’s words. There was nothing new about them, it was the same lecture that has been passed down in generations through Mo’at’s lineage. She was sure that one day Neteyam would pass it down to his own children.

“Are you paying attention?” Neytiri asked again, and Neteyam had to nod to convince her that he did, though he stopped listening a long time ago, “She must be strong, resilient. It is important that you choose wisely. I believe you are mature enough not to be fooled by beauty only -”

Y/N was undeniably beautiful. Was he fooled by her appearance? By the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, those two beaded braids, adorned with some that he had gifted her, framing her face and complementing the yellow of her eyes. By the way her body moved, like the flow of water, gentle and natural, as if every movement was planned out by Eywa herself. He couldn’t deny that sometimes his eyes lingered on her longer than a friend's should. Sometimes, even the way she sat close to him, their thighs pressed against each other and her small delicate shoulder nudging his, could make him too flustered.

“Led not only by her heart but also by her mind,” Neytiri continued.

Surely, you were smart, capable for your age. Neteyam would even dare to say that you were smarter than most of the adults he had known, probably smarter than him too. And you were kind too, with a heart so big that you willingly offered support and loyalty to him, though he had done nothing in return. If it were any other girl, she would have likely cursed him out and refused to acknowledge him for the rest of her life.

“Prepared to protect her clan and her family.”

Would Y/N be a good mate, ready to take on the responsibility of tsakarem? The thought was fleeting but heavy enough to ooze his head with delight. Neteyam took a deep breath to calm himself, feeling overwhelmed by how much the descriptions expanded to you. Neytiri paused, observing him for a moment.

“There is someone already, yes?” she asked, failing to conceal her hopeful tone.

Neteyam’s eyes snapped back to his mother, as she waited for him to answer. He could only shake his head and mutter an apology before scurrying away.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

No, it was wrong. Not after all those years of rejecting your affections, of not noticing when he crossed the lines and you didn't mind, he couldn't just swoop in now. Neteyam had struggled with this thought for many nights since the rumors of you letting Txi'pu court you began to circulate. You would tell him, right? He was your best friend, he had to be the first to know. But then again, it was probably foolish to believe what others had assumed. He had heard you say it to Lo'ak.

"I'm just taking things as they come," you shrugged, seemingly unbothered. Neteyam wished you would give him more of a reaction, so he could make some observations, "I don't think he and I are there yet."

But how could he believe it when he had seen you with Txi'pu repeatedly - the other day, the day after, and yesterday. He had noticed how you accepted the cut-up fruits from the warrior during communal dinners, held his hand, laughed with him - how it all had become somewhat of a habit. Neteyam struggled to maintain his appearances - he’d rather stay hungry than see you leave early with Txi’pu. Why him? The question knitted his eyebrows together in a deep-wrinkled frown, and he turned in his hammock once more, coaxing another annoyed whine from Lo'ak.

"Could you please stop?" his younger brother whispered, trying not to stir the rest of the family.

With sunrise approaching, it seemed unlikely to get any sleep anyway. Neteyam huffed and rose from his hammock, determined that a walk would clear his head. Maybe he was being selfish, greedy to keep you all to himself. But the idea of you being courted by someone else didn’t seem fair, especially when he had rejected everyone, every potential suitor suggested by his mother. Secretly, Neteyam wished that she would say your name, and then he would give her a sign that he wasn’t opposed to mating with you. But was it really unfair? After all, he never really gave you a chance.

His feet carried him away, making a few laps around the village. People were beginning to stir, emerging from their homes to begin their daily chores. Neteyam headed to the camp, intending to start his training early. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard your name.

Txi’pu and his friend were standing in front of the training hut, grinning widely and snickering about something. About someone. Neteyam hesitated to reveal himself, but his curiosity got the best of him, and he moved closer, trying to eavesdrop. The camp was beginning to get busy with the morning session, and just when Neteyam heard Txi'pu's malicious words about you, rage surged through him. In a split second, he made a decision. The rest was just as rushed, a heated fight took place between the two men.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You, go to Tsahik, now,” Jake ordered to Txi’pu with a scowl, then turned to you with a softened expression, “Y/N, please take care of this knucklehead,” he gestured to his son.

You nodded, hunching slightly, disappointment evident in your demeanor. You weren't sure how you felt when you first saw Neteyam on top of Txi’pu, punching him too hard for it to be considered a part of the training. Luckily, Jake was there, pulling his oldest son away from the other warrior before bigger damage was done.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam sighed.

“You do not look sorry,” Jake scoffed, “So stop with the lying, and go get cleaned up. We will talk about this later.”

Similar to Neteyam, Txi’pu refused to meet your eyes. He looked guilty, even more so than Neteyam. You wondered what had caused their fight, the thought consuming you so much that you almost missed Neteyam walking away from you. Anger began to bubble up inside you at the lack of information. It wouldn't have surprised you if it were Lo’ak, but Neteyam rarely resorted to using his fists.

“What happened?” you asked again, catching up to Neteyam.

But he only shook his head, refusing to reveal the reason. As the two of you headed into his family hut, you gently shoved him to sit down and began shuffling through his mother's baskets. You quickly settled on picking out one of the healing balms, the one that usually stung the most. You were furious. For not telling you what had happened, for getting hurt, for attacking Txi'pu; that’s not who he was. Careless, reactive.

“Just say it,” he gritted through his teeth, feeling the cut above his brow throb under your fingers, “I can feel that you’re mad at me.” "You shouldn't have attacked him like that," you replied, your voice laced with irritation. More than anything, you hated when Neteyam got hurt.

“He deserved it.”

"That's not the point," you replied sternly. "This isn't like you. You don't go around punching people."

“Why him?” his voice cut harshly through the air, his amber eyes searching yours desperately, “Out of all people, why would you give yourself to him?”

“What?” you frowned, “I didn’t.”

“Well, that’s what he’s telling everyone,” Neteyam rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t believe you. You shook your head, partly to convince him you were telling the truth, partly denying the fact that he believed somebody else over you.

How could he truly think you would do that? Knowing how much you valued the sacred bond, how could you, a woman he had grown up with and seemed to know through and through, give herself to a man with whom she had spent only a mere of two weeks. Without feelings, or even proper courting? And even if it was true, wasn’t he supposed to support you regardless of what you did? The thought stung, bringing anger into your voice.

“And what if I had given myself to him? It is none of your concern,” you snapped, pulling away from him with a sharpness that left him reeling. Your words were meant to wound, to protect Txi’pu and to strike back at Neteyam, “You had no right to attack him like that.”

“But I had,” he hissed, frustrated with how oblivious you were at reading his actions, “I have every right to make a call, when you can’t.”

“That’s not fair,” you shook your head firmly, as if denying his words, “You don’t get to act possessive over me.”

Neteyam retreated slightly. Did he reveal too much? He had always been aware of the deep-seated feeling in his chest that riled up every time he saw you but had never dared to give it a name. He couldn’t let you recognize it before he’d bring himself to confront it first.

“Do you think I did this for you? I am the future Olo’eyktan, and it is my duty as a leader and a warrior to keep skxawngs like him in tact,” he retorted, his voice dripping with venom, “I am not some lovesick puppy.”

You stared at him in bewilderment, struggling to reconcile this angry, unfamiliar version of Neteyam with the man you thought you knew like the back of your hand. His face was masked with rage, as he took it out on you for a reason that had still remained unclear. ‘Lovesick puppy,’ did he mean you?

"Got it," you spat out.You knew better than this - to trust that he wouldn’t hold your feelings for him against you one day.

“I didn’t mean to -” he regretted immediately, grasping at your hand but you yanked it away from his grip and stormed off.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Bro, what’s wrong with you? Dad looked like he was going to skin you,” Lo’ak plopped down next to Neteyam.

The older brother sat defeated on the cliff, feet dangling from the abrupt edge mindlessly. He stared out into the distance, the sun setting over the rainforest.

“I don’t regret it, Txi’pu is disgusting,” Neteyam spat out, anger still lingering in his voice.

“What did he do?”

Lo’ak pushed for answers, since the reason for the fight was still unknown. When the fight was broken off in front of the other warriors, Neteyam refused to voice it. He didn’t want to repeat the nasty words spoken by Txi’pu when you were there and embarrass you in front of the others, even worse, he didn’t want to hurt you. Neteyam didn’t care enough to defend himself, didn’t care for the scolding he got from his father after that. Frankly, he didn’t regret attacking Txi’pu at all, drawing blood felt good. But his father pressed, knowing exactly how to prod the words out of his oldest son. Jake decided not to intervene in the matters of your friendship then, he only advised his son to be mature and clean up his own mess.

“He was saying these things about Y/N, and I couldn’t just let it go,” Neteyam gulped, his fists clenching in anger, “He told his friends that she gave herself to him without a Tsaheylu. That after years of pining for me, he had finally ‘cured’ her... some shit like that.”

“What an asshole,” Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head.

“Yeah…”

Both brothers sat there for a moment, giving each other the space to process their conversation. The only sounds were the soft rustling of the wind through the vines and the distant calls of the banshees. Eventually, Lo’ak decided to break the silence once more.

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, but you shouldn’t have caused a scene like that. You got yourself into so much trouble.”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam turned to look at him, a little frustrated, “It was about Y/N. How could I let it slide?”

“No, I know, I agree,” his little brother was quick to raise his palms in the air to show he was still on his side, “I’m just saying, you never act like that. Maybe the jealousy got the better of you.”

“I am not jealous,” Neteyam protested, “I just can’t stand it that she chose to spend time with some asshole and then got herself hurt.”

“It’s her life, she can make her own choices,” Lo'ak placed a comforting hand on Neteyam's shoulder. He could sense that his brother was battling with something deep within himself, that the boundaries were blurring.

“But he doesn’t deserve her.”

“And you do?” Lo’ak asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“W-what?” Neteyam scoffed, standing up to show he was done with the conversation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay if it took you so long to realize. Just don’t make her wait any longer,” Lo’ak shouted after Neteyam, who was already walking away.

Neteyam's eyes widened with a sudden realization. It was as if Lo'ak's advice had struck the exact spot in his mind that had been bothering him for days, offering a simple solution to his inner turmoil. It was like medicine to his aching soul, and all he had to do was reach out and take it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Txi’pu's apology came quickly but lacked any genuine remorse. It was as if he had been forced into it, and by the look on his face, you suspected that he had been, most likely by Jake. The thought of the Olo’eyktan having to waste his time like that and hear about the stupid rumors was humiliating. Neteyam, on the other hand, took his time, letting you cool off, while he would figure out his feelings. Though he hadn’t suspected that the lack of his apology drew a distance between you that you were previously unfamiliar with. He’d steal glances at you during the dinners but that was it. Your best friend, the man you have been in love with, didn’t feel like a safe person anymore.

He was confused about it too. Couldn't tell if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or if he was genuinely blind to how much he used to relish in your presence. He gazed from afar with a longing look as you sat, looking pretty as ever. Your eyebrows were knitted in a gentle frown, eyelids halfway closed, as you huffed air out of your plump lips. He couldn't help but steal another glance in your direction, as he watched your head pull back with a loud whimper, your mother's hands quickly braiding another section of your hair, gripping tightly as you struggled to keep your neck straight. It would almost make him laugh at the way you reacted to pain, if he hadn't been so distracted by how pretty you looked.

“Stop gawking,” Lo’ak nudged him with an eye roll, “Just apologize already. It’s been days.”

Neteyam shook off his distracting thoughts, but the knife he was supposed to be sharpening remained as blunt as his mind, struggling to keep up with whatever Lo'ak was saying to him.

He wished he could just go back in time and stop himself from lashing out at you, from taking his frustrations out on the one person he cared about the most. He regretted pressing on the wound in your heart that had been bleeding for him for years, hurting you in the place where it hurt the most. The distance between you two had become unbearable, but he couldn't bring himself to close it. It felt different this time. Throughout all the years of your friendship, you had never fought like this. You had always been there for each other, through thick and thin. Misunderstandings were usually quickly resolved with sincere apologies. But the venomous words that had spilled out of him due to jealousy had stung like no other, ‘I am not some lovesick puppy.’

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam’s voice quievered, “Can you talk to her for me? She might listen to you.”

“Really, dude?” Lo’ak raised an eyebrow at him, “You want me to apologize for you?”

“No, I don't want you to apologize for me,” Neteyam frowned, already getting irritated, “Just make her talk to me, please.”

“Fine, but you owe me,” Lo’ak stood up abruptly, with a huff. Neteyam’s eyes widened at his sudden movement.

“Wait, are you going right now?”

Lo'ak gave a nonchalant shrug as he glanced in your direction, still seated in front of your mother. Neteyam thought it would be too humiliating to watch his brother beg for your attention while he was right there. You would think him as pathetic, a mighty warrior afraid to approach his friend of fifteen years.

“But she’s busy,” Neteyam's voice trailed off, eyes following as Lo’ak jogged over to you.

He watched the way Lo’ak greeted your mother with respect and earned a kind smile from her. You took your time to grant him your attention, tail swishing lazily from side to side, while Lo’ak made small talk. Neteyam stiffened once your eyes landed on him with a newfound harshness. He had never seen it from you before, and he could feel his heart sink in his chest.

What was Lo’ak telling you? Neteyam strained his ears to try to catch some of the conversation, but the soft murmur of your voices made it impossible. All he could do was pray that the little shrug you gave was meant to be for him, a chance to let him explain himself.

“I will be tracking a Vayätu after the eclipse. If he wants to apologize, he can help me first,” Lo’ak relayed your message to Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your ears perked up at the faint rustling sound, eyes already scanning the area, hunched over from behind the thick bushes. The mysterious spell was casted over the forest with the presence of Vayätu, a creature just as ethereal as it appeared. You felt it was near, just like Eywa, lingering somewhere in the dark. The bioluminescent shimmered over its sleek iridescent fur, concealing the creature, but the two sets of prominent yellow eyes stood out in the densest part of the forest.

Among your clan, Vayätu was one of the most valuable creations of Eywa. An animal rarely shown in the forests of Pandora, that despite its incredible speed and agility, was delicate, easy to scare away. Its only defense was disappearing into the foliage, blending with the surroundings. If a Vayätu got hurt once, it would never return to the same area.

Then there was the medicine that came with it. Deep within its long neck, the creature had a gland producing thick, viscous substance highly prized for its medicinal property, used to ease the pain for treating big wounds, or fed to women before giving birth. Retracting the liquid wasn’t harmful to the animal, similar to the way your eyes would produce tears when crying, but there was a certain routine to it. Requiring at least two hunters, one of which would hold the animal down, while the other one would gather the substance.

You stiffened immediately, hand reaching for your leather rope - a signal for Neteyam to prepare for the attack. Simple. You had done this before once, worked perfectly together, and then couldn’t stop laughing as the adrenaline rushed through your blood, jumping through the trees to hurry back home and announce your victory. But it seemed like at that moment, as he was kneeling beside you staring up at your profile, Neteyam had forgotten everything he knew. The apology, along with the confession he had been crafting carefully for days now, were ready on the tip of his tongue. He had to wait for the right moment.

Your skin was adorned with bioluminescent freckles that resembled a star constellation, just like the ones he used to stare at with his father on clear nights. Your eyes glowed softly, narrowed as if concentrating on something in the distance, and Neteyam was too distracted to pick up on it. He had seen you many times from many angles before, yet he couldn't help but be captivated by the way you tensed up, the definition of your lean, delicate arms, and the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed quietly and steadily.

Neteyam was so entranced by the way your body moved that he didn't notice when you jumped forward, your form confident as you chased a shadow. His attention was quickly drawn to the two sets of yellow eyes piercing through the darkness, before disappearing in an instant. He realized that he had missed the signal to attack first.

The forest came alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and cracking branches, as you ran after the Vayätu, hot on its tail. But the extra set of legs gave the creature an advantage, it was faster, putting a prominent distance between you. Frustration bubbled within you at the realization that you were alone in the chase. Where the hell was Neteyam? You were not set for this; speed wasn’t your strength. That was Neteyam’s part, you were better at sneaking.

“Neteyam!” you called out loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

You pushed harder, heart racing, as you refused to let the creature out of your sight, because once you did, you would never see it again. Neteyam caught up then, quick on his feet, as he articulated through the trees. He felt guilty for getting distracted, he had to prove himself to be helpful for you.

You, you, you. You were all that filled his mind. With determination, Neteyam lunged forward, his lean muscular body fluidly navigating through the dense undergrowth of the forest. His eyes remained fixated on the Vayätu up head, never losing sight of his target as he closed in on the ethereal creature. With a sudden burst of speed, he leaped towards it, his arms outstretched as he managed to tackle it to the ground.

You were still a few paces behind, your blood pumped with adrenaline, as you watched the scene unfold. Quickly, while Neteyam was still holding the animal down, you dropped to your knees right next to them.

“Where the hell have you been?” you hissed angrily, your eyes already darting all over the trembling creature.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted,” he mumbled. You only shook your head, dismissing his apology.

Elderly often instructed young hunters to calm their prey, make them feel safe and connected to Eywa. Following their advice, you reached to gently stroke the creature’s neck, whispering soft prayers to soothe its fear. Neteyam’s gaze was glued to you, as if something intimate and intricate was happening, something that only the two of you could comprehend.

“Okay, get ready to apply more pressure,” you warned, before taking out your wooden flask, crafted out of the root of the Home Tree.

Neteyam only nodded, watching the way you worked. The creature trembled under your touch, but his grip was unyielding, letting you collect the precious liquid and gently store it away. With a pat on his arm, you signaled for him to release the animal. Neteyam leaned back, panting heavily as the Vayätu sprang to its feet, shaking its head and snorting in frustration before darting away into the darkness.

Both of you stood up and remained quiet for a moment, as he wiped away the sweat and grime clinging to his skin. You were too covered in dirt, body exhausted from the chase. Yet, the triumph took over you once the realization that you had been successful settled in. A small smile crept onto your face.

"Nice work," you spoke quietly, “Even though you almost snoozed.”

He chuckled weakly, a little embarrassed. Amber eyes scanned your face, tracing the now smudged patterns of yellow paint.

“Let’s wash off,” he offered.

The tension slipped right back in and hung heavily between the two of you, as you walked ahead, letting Neteyam trail after you. Navigating through the dark forest was easy, you had taken this way to the pond many times before. There was no need to check if Neteyam was still following, you knew he was. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slide, not after sending Lo’ak to talk to you. You weren’t going to deny it - you missed Neteyam terribly, and a part of you had hoped that the apology would be sincere enough to soothe the pain left by his words.

The water was still under the shimmering moonlight, creating a perfect mirror of its surroundings. You carefully removed your belt, ensuring that the items in the pouch didn't spill, and placed it on the ground. Neteyam followed your lead and quietly put down his weapons.

“You wanted to talk,” you began first, the harshness returning to your voice.

Sure, it was disappointing, the way things turned out with Txi’pu. You couldn’t help but pity yourself for being played by the first guy you decided to give a chance to. The thought of him holding your hand now seemed disgusting, sent shivers down your spine. But it was easy to dismiss it because for the past week, the sting left from Neteyam’s words was much worse. You wanted it to go away, desperately.

“Y/N… I am so sorry, I truly am,” Neteyam took a long breath, forcing you to look at him, “I wish I could take back everything I said.”

"Don't apologize if it's how you really feel, Neteyam," you replied, your voice catching in your throat. "I just wish I had known sooner, so I would stop acting like a ‘lovesick puppy’ around you."

“No, no, I didn’t mean it,” he raised his palms in the air, as if to stop you, “I didn’t even think. I only spoke out of jealousy.”

“Jealousy?” you scoffed in disbelief. Did he really try to lie his way into forgiveness? “Why would you ever be jealous?”

Neteyam sighed and took a few steps closer to you. Almost too close. Of course, as friends, you had been even at a closer approximation before, but there was something different about it now. Too intimate, like no one else was supposed to see it. Your eyes flickered up to his face.

"Because you gave a chance to somebody else, and... I hated it," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you hold his hand instead of mine, laugh at his jokes, accept his gifts...it hurt me, more than I care to admit. Do you understand?"

You blinked in confusion, though your heart raced at the mere possibility that he was hinting at what you had hoped for a long time. Neteyam waited for you to answer his question, but when you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out. Then you felt him reach for your hand, long fingers intertwining delicately with yours. Goosebumps covered your skin in an instant.

“Every time my parents talked about choosing a mate, I got frustrated because all I could see was your face… you by my side. And I was so confused, I didn’t know what it meant back then, but now I do,” words spilled out of him with sincerity, “I like you more than a friend, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” “’s better late than never, right?” you attempted a faint smile with a croaky voice, though your heart was racing like crazy.

Then, as he leaned in, every thought seemed to wash away, and all you could focus on was him.

“Can I just..?” he trailed off, his arms open for you.

You nodded, stepping into his embrace. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, savoring your scent. He had missed you so much and had been dreaming of holding you in his arms ever since the fight. All he wanted was to keep his arms around you, both gentle and strong at the same time. And sweet like honey, his voice dripped.

“I see you, Y/N.”

You pulled away, searching for his face.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice trembled like a leaf on a windy day, and your own heart skipped a beat at the question.

You could only stare back, frozen, as Neteyam’s fingers brushed hesitantly against your face. He leaned in and waited for you to push him away, but once he was sure you wouldn’t, his lips ghosted over yours. A beat, and with a shaky breath, he pulled you closer. You surrendered to the feeling immediately, hands finding their way to his chest, trying to touch, feel every part of him, just to convince yourself this was real. With a soft gasp, your tongues intertwined, his taste like honey, sweet and intoxicating, marked you as his own.

The kiss broke, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have waited for your permission."

You shook your head weakly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. All you knew was that you wanted more.

"Don't be sorry," you nuzzled his face with your own, "I...I wanted this for a long time."

Neteyam felt like his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He was lightheaded, intoxicated by you. By the way your lips tasted, by your scent, by the feeling of your hands on him. He kissed you again, more desperately this time, pushing you back slightly, stepping into the the pond. You followed him without a word, the water lapping at your ankles.

The water was cool around you, causing a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t sure, maybe it was just Neteyam. He pulled you closer, dipping the two of you into the water half to your waist. There was only one thing on his mind - he needed to take care of you, wash away the stress and the tiredness he had caused, and make up for it with his love.

You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to his embrace, as he began to run his hands over your back, gently massaging your shoulders and arms. Some of the water he cupped had dripped over your back, relaxing away all of the tension in your body. You could feel yourself leaning onto him more, as if your knees were ready to give out any second now.

Neteyam’s hands continued to roam all over your body, exploring every curve he never had the chance to touch before. Everything that he had dreamed about was right there, under the pads of his fingers. He scooped another handful of water, bringing it to your face this time, washing away the dirt and the traces of paint off your face. You let out a sigh of pleasure, when his thumb grazed the blue stripe over your cheekbone.

His hands then strayed lower and lower, found their way to your hips and lingered there. He couldn’t move, thumbs pressed into your skin, leaving hot traces. You could feel the heat building in your chore, the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you again, his tongue probing gently at your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and you felt a rush of heat flow through your body.

“Neteyam…” you sighed softly, your hands reaching for his loincloth, tugging at it weakly.

“Yes?” he asked, as he dipped his head to kiss your neck.

“I want you,” you managed to let out, hand reaching lower to stroke over his length. He pressed into your palm with a groan.

“I want you too,” he planted another kiss to your neck, “But we have to wait…”

“What? No,” you shook your head weakly.

“Mhm, yes… I have to court you first,” he spoke in between short breaths he took, mouth never leaving that sensitive spot on your neck, “Do it properly. Earn your affections.”

“Neteyam, you know you had me all this time,” you chuckled weakly.

His chest heaved as he pulled away slightly, his hands still cradling your cheeks. He looked deeply into your eyes, a small smile curling his lips as he studied your flushed face for a moment.

“I want to do this right, Y/N, will you let me?” he asked softly, like he had already planned out the whole thing in his head.

Butterflies churned in your stomach, and you nodded, your own lips stretching into a lovesick grin. He planted another gentle kiss on your forehead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (lkm if you want to be added): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan @laylasbunbunny

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muzanswaifu · 1 year

Text

Bittersweet

Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader

18+

Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"

Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl

The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.

He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.

Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.

But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...

As for the female -

Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.

The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.

He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.

A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.

He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.

Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.

He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.

Fuck.

He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.

But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.

It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path, ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.

He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.

It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.

Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?

“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.

She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.

“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.

He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.

His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.

"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.

"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.

"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.

She sniffled again. "B-but -"

"Zip it."

Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.

Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.

His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.

The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.

The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.

And he was horny.

He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.

She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.

He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.

Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.

But he needed more.

His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.

Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.

He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.

"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."

The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.

"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"

She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.

"Not my problem."

"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"

"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.

He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.

Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."

Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.

"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.

He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.

And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.

@acehyacinth

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@keimuras

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pursuitseternal · 6 months

Text

“Anything to Reassure You, My Sweetest…” smutty reassurance for jealousy update to “Bites in the Night” series

Rogue Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.4 K reassuring smut and body worship

Summary: You’ve made it to Baldur’s Gate, but you haven’t two coins to rub together. In a tavern, your Vampire Rogue puts his skills to use, and stokes your jealousy in the process. What it takes to convince you, to reassure you will surely cool your temper and arouse… other feelings.

Cw: Acts 2-3 spoilers, flirty, busty barmaids, jealous feelings, denial of such feelings, very convincing reassurance of undying undead devotion, breaking and entering (technically?), body worship, slight sensory deprivation, cum tasting, adoring nsfw activities

Read on AO3 | read series on AO3 | Masterlist

Come, be convinced…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The tavern is packed, so many pockets that could be picked, so much smoke in the air to cover the scent of rich, roasted foods and fragrant ales.

And you, you sit at a table, pockets bare since you reached Baldur’s Gate. It took every coin you had to secure a place to stay for you all. Now, you each ventured out to find food for yourselves. Each alone, save for you and your vampiric lover, your second shadow.

He is always at your side, especially since reaching the city. Especially since he finally confessed his need for you and his guilt for manipulating you with lust and desire. Since he admitted he wanted something genuine with you, that you were different. Special. But that means something new for you both, something that explores your intimacy in new ways. Ways that limit the physical desire between you. No matter how fierce that desire is for you.

He has been through so much, been denied so much. Even soft things, intimate things, have been twisted for him. And now he needs you more than for your body. You are necessary for his healing, for his own sake, and now he is even closer by your side than when you were… intimate.

But still, for all his closeness physically and emotionally, you fret if there is to be a path for you both forwards.

It gnaws at the back of your mind. Especially in crowded, peopled places like this. His old sort of hunting grounds.

And while he is hunting for your next meal instead of Cazador’s, you chew your lower lip. Only hunting now is picking pockets or convincing someone to buy you something of substance rather than the manipulation and seduction of his delectable body to entice a vampire’s next victim.

His voice cuts through the din to your ear, sharp and quick like one of his daggers. He’s laughing… you lean over to look around some massive Tiefling that’s in your way.

You catch sight of him, leaning over the bar, his teeth flashing bright and wide at the little barmaid as she giggles in response. You scan her, so petitte and busty, and yet you catch a glimpse of her narrow waist as she turns towards the kitchen. Her hair is perfect, soft little curls, washed and brushed until it shines. Your hands start to pick at the stands of your own, washed a day ago… maybe? And you start to brush it with your fingers as if that will fix it.

He’s waiting, frozen with that provocative grin, head cocked mischievously to the side. You suddenly see why, she returns with a plate piled high with roasted meat and steaming potatoes and a large mug of ale. The wench sets it in front of Astarion, his lips moving as he speaks something that makes the girl’s cheeks flame bright pink. Even her little turned up nose turns rosy.

Then, your heart sinks, only to leap to your throat right after. You can’t look away, the pretty little barmaid leaning across the dirty, sticky counter to press a kiss against your love’s cheek.

You watch him make some reply, that smile still frozen on his lips, those brows still canted rakishly. Taking the plate and mug in hand, he comes your way.

And you, your ears are burning and your throat is tight. Jealousy claws inside you, seething as you turn your head, unable to look at him while he sits beside you in the booth, the little round table before you doing nothing to give you distance.

“Here darling,” he croons, setting the food and drink before you alone. “Best eat up and replenish,” he crouches close to you, his lips featherlight against your neck, tickling that sensitive spot behind your ear. “For I cannot feed until you do, you know..”

“Suddenly I’m not hungry,” you mumble, pushing the plate back towards Astarion. Your eyes still fixed on a divet on the table in front of you.

“Darling…” you feel his hand gently turning your chin. Your head responds. Of course it does. You crave his touch with how much you miss it, everyday in agony to be so close to him, no longer indulging in the comfort of your bodies. “What’s the matter?”

You can’t look up, fists clenching in your lap. Tugging your head from his touch, you grumble an unconvincing, “Nothing.” You scooch down the bench, grabbing a fork, deciding it might be better to stuff your mouth instead of having to talk. But before you can lift the pewter fork from the table, he slams his hand down on it.

Damn his stupid rogue reflexes.

Then you look up at him, jealousy burning hot as anger inside your twisting innards. “Let go,” you snap.

“Not until you tell me whatever is the matter,” he teases, his brows furrowing with disapproval.

You pause a moment, that bubble of jealousy ready to burst and fling your hot words of vitriol in his face. But you swallow them back down. “Actually I think I’ll go find Halsin, foraging in the woods sounds far more preferable to this packed tavern.” You huff, “I’m sure you’ll find some company in my absence….”

“I dont think so, darling not until you say what the fuck is going on?” he hisses, a firm hand on your shoulder as you try to stand. “Spit it out, my sweet.”

You take a shaky, deep breath, watching as that pretty thief of a barmaid saunters past your table. Her clear blue eyes scan Astarion beside you, but he doesn’t even notice. His crimson gaze is a pinpoint on you, and you alone; his face is a mix of concern and agitation. It furrows those brows and wrinkles his nose as he stares intensely at you.

“Now,” he whispers, closing the distance between you on the seat, “please tell me whatever is the matter, my love.”

You give a single, breathy disparaging laugh.

“Come on,” he places a single hand over one of your balled up fists. “If I can admit to weeks of attempting to manipulate you and falling in love with you instead, you can admit a bit of jealousy…”

Your eyes dart wide, your mouth hanging open.

“Please, I know every movement of your body, I can feel every twitch and clench of your muscles, every rap of your heartbeat.” He softens a bit, his thumb gently stroking over your clenched hand trying to soften it. “But why you would be so easily piqued by some bar wench is beyond my understanding, darling.”

“She…” you swallow the lump that burns and grates in your throat. “She kissed you.”

“Without invitation, mind you,” he sneered as he glanced back where the offense occurred. “Made my undead skin crawl. But I needed to get you something to eat, so I left the foolish girl alone without so much a thank you…”

“Didn’t look like it from here,” your teeth grit as you talk. “Besides, I can understand, Astarion. She’s beautiful and clean, petite and curved, flouncing hair and puckered lips and rosy cheeks and…”

He silences your mouth with a commanding kiss. “There is only one set of puckered lips mine will ever taste, darling,” he murmurs between the intoxicating workings of his mouth, “yours, my sweet.”

Those fingers dexterously tangle at the back of your neck, sweeping through your locks to brush them back off your shoulders. “You are so beautiful, your skin tanned and scarred from our battles, side by side… your cheeks glowing with the exertion of our adventures…”

He lifts his mouth to look you straight in the eyes, “Your heart beating all the quicker the closer I get, as if you hope I’ll ask you for a bite later…”

“Gods, yes,” you breathe. “If only to make sure you have someone to care for you, Astarion. Whether we are…” you blush and look back at that divet in the table, “…intimate or not…”

“Tch,” he leans in, his eyes wide and soft with adoration. “See what I mean, darling? I would take you over every other being in Faerûn.” His arms wind around your back, hand cupping the curves of your ass to bring you flush against him. “I mean… perhaps I’m warming to the idea of you thinking about me…” he pauses, his face twisting with that rakish smirk, “and I do mean sexually, to be clear.”

You giggle, his light fingers scratch their way up your thigh, tracing little circles through the soft leather that covers your skin.

He breathes right into your ear, honey-sweet words that spike your pulse all the more. “I don’t know if it’s the music and wine in the air, or the way your heart is just violently throbbing with your jealousy, my pet, but right now, finally, I want nothing more than to show you some… reassurance… of my devotion to you.”

“But…” you tease, craning your neck to press you nose against his, “the food…”

“Mmm, you’re not going to want a full belly anyway once we find some privacy and I begin what I’m planning to do to you… Trust me,” he grins those fangs at you, “you’ll feel very… very full.”

Nevertheless, you take a few bites of the hard won offering of food, just enough to sate your growling stomach. A swig of ale to chase it down is all he allows you before he rises so quickly from the table, it scoots across the floor with a screech. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you through the packed crowd towards a hall, the shadows dancing with flickering torchlight. Rooms line the corridor, but all of them are locked.

The moment you are alone, away from deafening voices and judging eyes, he’s on you. That wiry strength of his body cages you against a door. His mouth captures your lips, his own hunger, for blood, for your body, is palpable with every suck of his lips and dive of his tongue. His fangs and teeth catch your lips and steal your breath.

He hungers.

You feel him smiling against your lips, his body, hardened from fighting and lean from his feeding on your blood all along your journey. Hands run up and down your arms, clutching you tightly against him. And then, he laughs, “Why I do think we have found the perfect little nowhere for the right price.” Before his meaning sinks into your lust-clouded mind, he’s crouching, planting little kisses over your clothing as he goes. His lockpick in hand, he works his own brand of magic, face resting on your thigh as the latch clicks, the door swinging open behind you.

“Always so quick to slide your tools into little holes, aren’t you, Astarion?”

He says nothing as he stands, no words needed. Not when he gives you that ravenous smirk, his brows canted so deliciously. Before you can even breathe, he’s scooped you in his arms, carrying you into the darkened room, a swift shove of his hip to shut it firmly behind you both. You can barely see anything, there is no light. No candle or fire in this vacant chamber. Besides, his face is far too close as he consumes you in that commanding kiss of his. Something soft cradles your body as he sets you down, the comforting embrace of a feather bed.

Gods, when had you last been in a bed… it almost makes your body stretch in anticipation more than the way he’s crawled over you in it. Every brush of his body, every angle of his hips and pressure of his knee to spread your legs for him is deliberate. It’s so dark, the room lit only by some tiny window high above the bed, you can just barely make out the edges of his body on top of you, the little curls of his hair around his head that won’t ever be tamed.

No sights to take in, your every sense is heightened, flooded with the feeling of his hands that tug your clothes off your body, overwhelmed by the sound of his panting breaths in your ear, the taste of his tongue in your mouth each time he returns for more and more of your lips.

Before you know it, he’s pulled you up, slipping your shirt off from over your head, his voice purring in your ear. “Now, let’s see… you seemed to think your body inferior to that little wench.” He’s kissing into your ear, the lapping of his tongue deafening you, making your spine spasm with tingles, every nerve now lit on fire and hot with need. “Let’s begin to dispel those silly ideas, my love.”

He lifts from you, in the dark, all you can do is feel that cold weight of his body slipping from you. You whimper alone in the shadowed, strange bed. But you can hear he’s close, his voice softly shushing you, his fingers deftly sliding your breeches from your legs. His touch grazing over your skin now makes you whimper for new, all-consuming reasons.

Especially as you, now completely naked, feel him leaning closer to you, climbing back into the bed as the mattress bends under his weight. Your wimpers become full-throated moans as his hand comes to trace a single finger up your belly.

“Hmmm, I think you find your figure less… arousing,” he whispers, as you find his hands splayed on either side of your head, his knees shifting to straddle you… That’s when you realize it’s his skin now that brushes your flesh.

You feel movement over your belly, hearing the soft brushing of skin on skin, realization dawning as your head lifts and eyes widen to try to see. You can make it out faintly in the shadows, his hand beating slowly over his long, pulsing cock.

Oh, you missed that sight…. It makes you shiver beneath him, where he’s pinned you softly into the bed. “Clearly, we might not see eye to eye on how… arousing you truly are, darling.” His hand finds yours from your side, wrapping them together around his length. “See…” he leans his face into yours, his breath cold, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I think this proves you quite wrong…” you groan as he lays on top of you, your legs parting naturally to let him in, to wrap him tightly between your trembling thighs.

Every part of your body hums with need. At last. After so long. “Need more… convincing?” he purrs into your mouth, that erection now prodding over the top on your mound and pushing into your belly.

“Mmm,” you moan, pressing your own hips up into him, “always…”

“Tch,” he catches your lower lip in his teeth, “greedy little minx. I suppose it is fitting I indulge you. I can rid you of all that nagging doubt, darling…” his lips release yours one more time, trailing little sucks on your neck, your collarbone, your chest, until those full, smirking lips encircle your nipple.

And suck hard.

You mewl, biting your lip hard to keep from screaming.

“The softness of your breasts, the way they harden the moment I touch them, there is nothing like it…” he whispers against your tingling flesh, his mouth dragging with little nips to attend to your other one. Your back arches, your frame shaking to have his mouth on you once more, hands running through those soft, unkempt locks, as if you could trap him against you forever like this.

“More?” he taunts you, giving your nipple one last lingering drag of his teeth.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Convince me more…”

“It would be my pleasure,” he gives you that leer that sets your blood on fire, your innards quickening as his hand reaches back between your legs. The cold press of his fingers parts you, drawing their touch through your molten slick, a little teasing circle on your clit sending your whole body shaking. You raise your hips, wanting so much more, but his touch slips away.

Only to have him slide those drenched fingers between his own smiling, pouting lips. “Mmm,” he growls, “delicious…” He crooks his brows as you watch, so engrossed with the way his lips purse around the slight thrust of his fingers into his mouth. Then, he chuckles, low and deep, “Would you like a taste of just how divine you are?”

You give him half a smile, opening your mouth to let your tongue slide out, eager and anticipating.

Those fingers dive right back into your soaked cunt, crooking deep inside your channel as you squirm to feel so filled once more. You close your eyes as his hand withdraws, the salty tang of your own arousal brushing your waiting tongue. Your lover groans over you as you close your mouth, warm and wet, around his fingers. Fingers he slowly strokes between your lips.

“You are so perfect, every time…” he whispers, his throat thick with his need as his voice grates in your ear.

As his fingers disappear, your breath stops, drawn from your lungs by his devouring kiss. “I’m beginning to feel reassured,” you pant, your hands running over those ridges of scarring on his back, almost as familiar to you as your own marks and scars from battle.

“You had better. You are my only one, darling,” he growls against the pillowy flesh of your breasts, raising his head to look you straight in the eyes. His crimson gaze intense, filled with that glint of possessiveness, softened slightly by the dependence that brims from their depths. “And I’ll fuck every bit of your doubt from you, my sweet.”

“Please,” you beg, sighing to feel that thick, blunt, beautiful head of his cock pressing into you slowly. Your body squirms, stretching around him, taking him deeper as you try to relax. You pant, hands riding the little clenching thrusts of his ass as he gently works his way further into you.

And you moan, stretching like you’re a virgin all over again. Fitting him into your deepest recesses. Your legs raise, gripping around his narrow, lean waist. His mouth whispering his praises over your tongue as they tangle together. “Yes, darling, you’re so good,” he’s groaning, his hips thrusting and swiveling oh so slowly. Lovingly. “My one, my only…”

Your words fail. Only little breaths and sighs and noises left as your mind is swept away. Nothing more than the way your bodies are joined at last. It’s wave after wave of pleasure up your spine as he takes his time, as he meticulously plunders you. You buck, riding each thrilling drag of his cock inside you. His arms weave around your shoulders, embracing you, pulling you so every inch of your body is drawn hard against his, your yielding curves flattened, pressed and confined against him, all lean and hard and brawny as he is.

At last words tingle on your tongue. “You’re mine too, my one…” you finally pant, your voice harsh as your pleasure begins to crest, to crash through you to take control of your every nerve and every sense.

Your words, they trigger something inside him, suddenly that slow rhythm of love-making turns sharper. He’s demanding and pulsing, his thrusts harder, faster. You feel his nails clawing into the skin of your back, his breathing growing ragged and hissing between his clenched teeth.

On the cusp of control, he’s barely bridled, fangs grinding as he chases his climax, pushing you hard into yours. You shatter, shivering and clenching around his cock, his length hammering hard to fill you to bursting even as you can’t take any more of him inside. Your hand flies to cover your screams, your arousal squirting around him, soaking your thighs, his cock, even as you feel him spewing his seed to mix with your juices. Groan after groan through his firmly shut mouth, and he finally stills inside you, over you. One last breathless kiss on your lips, and he rests his head next to yours. His pants tickle right in your ear.

“That…” you whisper, turning your face to plant a kiss against the two little scars on his neck, “was….” you run out of words, too many flooding your brain to pick just one. So, you brace your hands on either side of his face, lifting it to bring his mouth to yours, one more time.

“Anything to reassure you, my sweetest,” he whispers, returning your kiss gently, tenderly, on the damp of your forehead.

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akumakosuke · 3 months

Text

Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...

†Our cursed love†

This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.

A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.

Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.

No warnings

~_Our cursed love._~

Chapter 1- Our pedestal.

~No one POV:~

The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.

The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.

They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.

The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.

It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.

~3rd Person POV~

A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.

To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.

Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.

Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.

He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.

~10 minutes earlier~

A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.

He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.

M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.

They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.

~present time~

Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.

If destiny exists then freedom cannot.

If freedom exists then destiny cannot.

Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.

The freedom of choice.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.

They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.

Completely random.

“Huh-?!”

“What-?!”

Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.

M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.

This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.

Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.

~M/n POV~

‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’

~Satoru POV~

‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’

~3rd person POV~

“Cursed.�� They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.

The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.

It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.

For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…

Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.

A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.

“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.

“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.

“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.

Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.

The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.

They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.

This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.

They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.

They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.

“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.

“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.

A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.

“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.

Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.

“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.

“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.

“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.

M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.

Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.

“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.

Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.

“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”

M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.

“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.

“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.

“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.

“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.

M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.

“Wanna find out?”

Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.

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@itsgivingitalian

#malereader #dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #male reader #akumakosuketoughts #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru

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borathae · 8 months

Text

"You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: pussy wetting porn, soft & hard Dom!Taehyung, whiney sub!Reader, she's a tease in the beginning, until he shows her what a real tease looks like, he kneels and kisses her feet in gratefulness, period sex, lotsa blood, he licks it from her pussy, and does some other kinky shit with it but it's a surprise besties, sloppy oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, gentle pussy fisting bitches, rough sex in multiple positions and locations (including his bed, the window, atop a dresser, his atelier), dirty talk, praise, good girl kink, degradation (he calls her his greedy slut), sexy possessiveness, Sir kink, huge vampire dicks, fangs, nipple play, marking, scratching (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), strength kink, he's unhinged and feral, multiple intense orgasms for her, overstimulation, she's a lil masochist <3, Tae uses her pussy as his personal fleshlight, creampies, she subdrops but he reassures her, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky!!

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i need to be restrained and put in a cage. cue brittany brosky's voice i am gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure 😶

You know where to find your darling. It is a rainy night and the air is chilly enough to make staying inside wonderful. There is only one place in the estate where Taehyung loves to be during those times. His atelier, painting and drawing away. The doors to it are open, the faintest of jazz music enters the corridors. He is painting. Just as you had figured. You know him so well.

You enter his atelier with a faint knock on his door.

“Tae darling?”

“Yes, my darling?” Taehyung asks with his full attention on you instantly. He even places his paint brush aside without breaking his eyes away from you for even a millisecond. He sniffles as if he noticed something, but stays quiet otherwise. His eyes scan you from head to toe and yet he still doesn’t say anything.

You close the distance between you and him.

“I got my period today.”

“I knew that I smelled something on you. Oh my darling, do not worry. I can get you everything you need”, he says and stands up to hurry to you, “just make me a list and I will drive to the store right away, unless you need a massage or hugs. Oh, I can give you everything.”

“You’re so sweet”, you say, “but I don’t need any of those things.”

“Yes? Then I shall keep my distance and talk only when necessary.”

“No, not that either.”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Tae, I’m not wearing protection right now and it’s leaking into my panties.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “...yes? I…shall I buy you new sanitary products?”

“No, you,” you chuckle.

Taehyung chuckles as well eventhough he is very clearly confused.

“Help me clean myself, Tae.”

“Oh, of course! Oh darling, why didn’t you say so sooner? Come, I shall run you a hot shower and scrub your back”, he says and takes your hand to walk off.

You however pull him back, using the momentum to twirl him.

Taehyung laughs and falls into you.

“Darling, don’t do that.”

You fix him so he was facing you again.

“You didn’t understand me.”

“Okay?”

“Kneel, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel for me.”

Taehyung falls to his knees as if it was instinct. He even places his hands in the proper position, looking up at you with questioning puppy eyes.

“I don’t seem to understand”, he confesses.

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you tell him and step closer.

The sweet scent of your bleeding, warm pussy overtakes his senses. He tries not to, but still looks at your middle. You are wearing nothing more than an oversized cashmere cardigan and a pair of cotton panties. They are white, but soaked in blood. He feels his senses blur. You look and smell temptatious.

“Darling”, Taehyung croaks, pressing his legs together, “you are torturing me. I can smell but you.”

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you repeat your order and something seems to click in Taehyung’s brain

His head snaps up, his face is fallen in shock.

“What, what do you mean? What does this mean? What?” he stutters, blinking rapidly.

You smile tauntingly, “you heard me. I’m messy and need you to clean me.”

“But darling. Darling, you are covered in blood”, Taehyung is salivating as he speaks. His fangs are glistening in the lights. He is so consumed by your scent, aching to bury his face in your sweet heaven and yet he seems so perfectly in control.

“I know and I need a vampire to clean it.”

“___”, Taehyung presses out, “are you certain? What about Yoongi? I do not want him to think that I am feeding from you again. I don’t want to cause a fight.”

“Yoongi cleaned me too.”

“Pardon?” this confession is the most shocking to Taehyung. Obviously.

“Yeah”, you giggle, “do you remember last month? When I didn’t leave Yoongi’s wing for days?”

“Yes.”

“That was when I accidentally started my period in his bed and he ate me out like an animal.”

"Now this is", Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you are having a jest with me.”

You shake your head, continuing your story.

“He proceeded to keep me captive for the rest of my period to literally take me in far too many ways and positions and rooms and…yeah. Phew.”

“You are telling the truth?!”

“Yes. Of course I am”, you say and snicker at Taehyung’s shocked expression.

“Darling, I am flabbergasted. Yoongi drank your blood?”

“He didn’t drink my blood. He ate my pussy, which just so happened to be bleeding, but that’s beside the point. He knows that I’m here and what I want to do with you. He doesn’t mind.”

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?”

“Yes Tae, I’m certain. You’re the only one who can clean me right now.”

"Are, are you truly certain?"

"Every second wasted with talking means my panties are getting messier and messier", you say and lift your cardigan just slightly to reveal more of you to him.

Taehyung looks at it and crumbles.

“Darling you”, he touches your calves, looking up at you with devoted, starstruck eyes, “I exist to worship you. Every waking second should be spend being your greatest admirer. I-”

He stops talking to instead bow down in front of you. Not only that, but to also kiss your feet. Every inch of them. Toe by toe and instep by instep. He kisses your feet as shaky mutters of “thank you” and “oh, how I am devoted to you” interrupt his needy sounds of admiration.

You let it happen with a racing heart. He looks so good worshiping your feet.

“My goddess”, he says, hugging your legs and burying his nose deep in your middle. He inhales deeply, letting out a guttural moan, “oh my beautiful, bleeding goddess. I am delirious from your scent”, his voice is muffled from your body.

You giggle, ruffling his hair.

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy. I ache for your taste day by day. Oh my sweetest, you smell so wonderful.”

He tilts his head up, still hugging your legs. His eyes are ruby, his cheeks covered in black veins. You caress them, ending it by tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re such a darling”, you speak softly, giving him a fond smile.

Taehyung buries his nose back in you, inhaling as much of you as his lungs allow him.

“Oh darling”, he moans as he exhales, shuddering uncontrollably, “how I want you.”

“You can have me. You know?”

“I know, oh I know”, he says and stands up, “I shall not take you here”, he says, sweeping you off your feet bridal style.

You squeal and giggle, falling around his neck for support. You don’t feel scared at all. He is your strong darling after all. Your weight feels like nothing to a vampire like him. He carries you with ease, basking in your giggles as you willingly let him kidnap you.

The journey ends in his bedroom. He places you atop his king sized bed, giving you no time to get used to the solace as he claims the space above you. Your cardigan got messed up from the movement, having slipped off one of your shoulders to reveal your skin to him.

Taehyung lowers his lips to your shoulder instantly, kissing your every inch from the very top of your shoulder down to where your collarbone blends into your sternum. His hands are on each side of your head, his knees are caging in your hips and yet he puts no weight on your lap. The distance aches. To have his weight so close, his touch even closer and not to receive it makes you restless. You squirm on the sheets, reaching up just to grasp his wrists.

“Patience”, Taehyung guides his lips to the shell of your ear just so he can seduce you with his sultry whispers, “I like to take my time with an exquisite meal.”

Being known so well by him makes you squirm once more. All you needed to do was to touch his wrists and he knew what you were craving most.

“I’m getting everything messy”, you sigh in hopes of warming his heart.

Taehyung chuckles deeply, kissing a path along your face until he reaches the other side of your neck to worship.

“This is the fun part”, he rasps and shakes his right hand free from your weak grasp to instead run it down your body.

You writhe into the touch, shivering intensely when he slips it under your cardigan to palm at your skin. Just for a few seconds and without ever touching your breasts, then he already slips it out again to dance it to your hip.

“The savouring you is the best part, my darling”, he teases, playing with the hem of your panties, “it gets you so wet”, you can feel his smirk against your skin, hear it in his voice, “and messy”, he adds, kissing the spot where your pulse races like crazy in your neck.

“Tae”, you mewl, arching into him.

This isn’t what you expected when you came to him for aid. You expected him to lose composure like Yoongi did. You expected him to take you and pin you, giving you no chance to escape as he selfishly takes what is his’. You wanted him to be the one panting and gasping as control slipped from his fingers with each lick and yet he is having you in a tight grip. He is in perfect control while you feel dizzy in desperation.

You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were.

“Darling, you are squirming so much”, Taehyung rasps, holding your hips down with gentle strength, “what’s the matter? Am I rushing you?”

“No”, you mewl, shaking your head.

“No?”

You shake your head more vigorously, wiggling your hips under his grip.

“Look at you trying to squirm”, he taunts, “don’t tell me that you believed me to lose control like Yoongi did, mhm?”

You mewl from being so exposed. It should embarrass you, but it only makes you crave him more.

Taehyung chuckles deeply, guiding his long fingers to your tummy just to play with your panties there.

“You should know me better by now”, he rasps, slipping his fingers inside just to toy with your pubes. He is obsessed with them, twirling and tugging on them gently to truly rile you up.

“Tae, please”, you try begging, making him smirk against your neck.

He retreats his touch, drawing circles into the softness of your stomach. You want him so bad.

“Open your cardigan for me.”

You obey even before he finishes his sentence. There are three buttons keeping you modest. You open them as quickly as possible, tugging the cardigan open to expose yourself to him. You slip it off your arms, letting it lay under you as you can’t be bothered to remove it completely.

“Good girl”, Taehyung praises and sits up. He is kneeling, but still doesn’t put his weight on your lap. This is for show. To make you aware that he doesn’t need his weight to keep you pinned for him. His presence is enough to make you obedient.

Taehyung runs his eyes over your body, keeping his hands rested on his own thighs. The fabric of his linen pants stretches around them, bulging at his cock. He is hard. At least this he can’t hide from you. Even if he pretends to be in perfect control otherwise, at least his cock shows how much you affect him.

“Mhm”, he purrs, “beautiful.”

He looks at your panties. They are red in blood. His eyes flicker ruby. Finally another reaction. You part your legs upon seeing it, aching for him to act.

“How much do you treasure these undergarments?” he asks.

“They’re old and a little uncomfy”, you tell him.

“Good. Then I am sure you don’t mind if I do this”, he says and slips his fingers under the hem of them. He picks up a piece of them and looks at you, “may I?”

“Yeah…please.”

“So eager”, he chuckles and begins ripping the fabric, going carefully and slowly. It takes everything inside you not to squirm and beg him for more. Taehyung rips your panties at the other side as well, going just as slow and careful. It is as if he was opening a present or unwrapping a piece of candy. He does it with such a light-heartedness while you feel like shivering in desperation.

You lift your hips the second he managed to rip your panties apart. Taehyung chuckles and tugs the ruined fabric away.

“So eager”, he says, lifting your panties into his field of vision. He inspects them, parting his lips to show off his fangs. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his ruby eyes flit to you, “this is your last chance to stop this, darling.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” you insist loudly, “please Tae, don’t tease me anymore.”

He chuckles, “you’re such a delight, my darling”, he says and places your panties aside. He climbs off your lap, placing his hands on your thighs to push them apart. Not that he has to do a lot of work. The second he touched your thighs, you opened your legs for him. He meets your desperate eyes, giving you a knowing smile.

“So eager”, he speaks softly and sickeningly sweet. Oh, the things he manages to do with nothing but his voice.

“Please Tae, I’m messy.”

“Mhm, not messy enough”, he says and connects two of his fingers with your aching heat.

“Ah”, you gasp, chasing the touch the second you received it. It feels so good. His fingers are so careful and his skin so soft. You needed his touch so incredibly much.

“So wet”, Taehyung whispers, dragging his fingers through your folds in a slow massage, “look at it covering your every inch. Darling, I crave you.”

He leaves out your clit on purpose, riling you up each time he swerves past it.

“More”, you try in hopes of persuading him, chasing his gentle touch.

“May I feel you inside?”

“Yes”, you exhale shakily, “yes please, Tae.”

“Thank you so much”, he says and lets two of his fingers disappear inside you. You gasp and arch your back. They slip in so easily, fill you up so much. Taehyung watches your face for reactions and when he sees that no sign of discomfort crinkle it, he finally looks at your reddened cunt. Truly, how messy you are. It looks like the most delicious meal to Taehyung, forcing him to gulp heavily from all the saliva gathering in his mouth. He moves his hand, fingering your soft walls with gentle precision.

“Tae…” you sigh, letting your legs fall open. His fingers are so long, touching just where it feels the best.

“You feel wonderful, my darling”, he praises, curling his fingers, “you feel so tender inside. Tell me, are my fingers comfortable?”

“Yes”, you sigh, nodding your head vigorously.

“Oh, you feel so much more tender than on other days”, he whispers and slips another finger inside.

“A-ah”, your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers twist the sheets. To be so filled with Taehyung will never lose its spark.

“Breathe, my darling. You are tightening”, he orders you, soothing the stretch by drawing circles on your clit with his thumb. You are so wet from your period that the touch comes easy.

You inhale shakily, exhale in a tremble. You can’t control your walls from clenching, not when he makes you feel so good. You need to feel him as close as possible, so clenching comes natural to you.

“There we go. I need you to relax, otherwise I can’t prepare you for my length”, he speaks sweetly, soothing your trembles with gentle rubs to your lower stomach, “you are doing so well already.”

“Oh god…Tae”, you press out, rolling your head to the side in weakness. Being praised by him will always ruin you. You roll your hips up into his touch, moaning his name because this is all you can think of right now. Taehyung and only Taehyung.

He rewards your eagerness with yet another finger. He watches with deep red eyes as his pinkie finger slips into your wet cunt, how you welcome him and how you fit so perfectly around him.

“Four fingers darling, you are taking four of my fingers”, he rasps, keeping them still inside you to get you used to the stretch. He knows that it can be overwhelming and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Yet.

“Tae ple-please”, you get out in a shaky breath, reaching down to squeeze the hand he keeps on your stomach. You hold it with both hands, squeezing it so terribly much.

“Hurts?” he makes sure, caressing your skin.

You shake your head vigorously, grinding into his touch. His fingers slip deeper. Taehyung feels how your walls throb around his digits, tensing his own thighs as his every fiber tells him to ruin you. If you think that he wasn’t affected by all of this, you were wrong. It takes every ounce of self-control for Taehyung to stay as calm as he pretends to be right now. There are voices in his head. Distorted, tempting voices telling him to devour you, to use the advantages his curse gives him and take you as his sweetest meal.

But Taehyung has a plan. He wants this meal to be as perfect as possible. He wants you to think about it during random times of your day and feel so utterly affected by it that you falter in whatever you were doing a few moments ago, perhaps you even gasp for air and trace the spots he touched as you tried to relive the memory.

Taehyung needs to ignore the voices for the sake of the perfect feed. There is no other way.

You thrust your hips again, pulsating around his hand as your cunt swallows it hungrily. How wet you are inside, how warm and soft. Taehyung can touch your cervix this way, forcing you to keep still by pressing down on your tummy again. You squeeze his hand, whimpering his name while your hips give up without a fight.

“Stay still, don’t disobey”, he orders, pulling his fingers out just a little in order to give your tender cervix a break, “if you keep wiggling, it will hurt.”

“But it, it feels so good”, you get out and whimper, scratching at his hand gently as you try to grasp more, “Sir feels so good.”

Taehyung groans, furrowing his brows. Ruin her. The voices tempt him. Take her and break her. They taunt him.

“Darling”, he presses out through gritted fangs, “fuck, you make me act up”, he spits and gives into his desires.

He pins you down with his weight, wrapping his blood-soiled hand around your throat to press down on your veins.

Dizziness claims your brain instantly, a squeaky gasp leaves your lips. You meet his gaze, meeting desperate craze in it. His pupils are so blown-out that they almost swallow the red, the black veins pulsate on his cheeks. He is breathing heavily and shakily, doing so in deep, desperate breaths.

“How dare you call me such titles. Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he is growling his words with a hint of demonic raspiness in his voice. He tilts your head up with a tight grip on your throat, “what I want to do to you when you talk like this?”

“Sir”, you choke out, grasping his strong lower arm. It feels so good to be choked. It finally feels as if you are breaking his composure. You couldn’t escape his grasp even if you tried as hard as you can, but you aren’t scared. You are so entirely happy to be here.

Taehyung’s features darken, his unoccupied hand grasps your hands and guides them down your body. He lodges them between your waist and his thighs, turning you unable to move them. You can’t even wiggle them, let alone change their position. He is so strong and you are utterly at his mercy.

“Stop calling me this”, he hisses and slams his hand into the pillow beside your head. He moves in closer, breathing deeply. He shudders and growls. His blood-soiled hand covered your entire neck in blood, tempting him to taste you. He moves in closer, rolling your head to the side to reveal your vulnerable neck to his lips. He inhales again, moaning deliciously.

Your heart is racing. The grip around your neck lessened, but you still feel dizzy.

“How I need you”, he gets out and moves in. His bloodied fingers leave your neck, his dripping tongue replaces them. You tense up and moan, feeling burning electricity shoot through your veins.

Taehyung moans and presses himself closer, feasting on your neck as if it was the first meal he ever tasted. He missed this so much that he almost starts crying. And to have it taste like your sweet cunt as well, oh Taehyung has to reach up and grab the edge of the pillow, caring rather little about soiling it with blood. He pins you deep into the mattress, increases the pressure on your arms. You shouldn’t escape him. Not when he finally has the taste of your blood under his tongue. By the time, he has finished cleaning one side, your flesh is bruised and sensitive. He didn’t bite you, even if his fangs kept gracing your skin, but the sensitivity is still intense.

“You are my downfall”, he is panting, fixing your head so your other side was exposed, “I want to ruin you”, he adds and latches himself onto your tender neck.

“Sir”, you whimper, lying completely still even if you want to writhe and squirm and arch your back. It feels so good. His mouth is so much hotter than on normal days.

Taehyung worships your neck almost every time you and he are intimate. You know how good it feels, but this feels different. This kind of worship, you always received when the taste of your blood was involved and you forgot how much better it feels. His mouth is burning, his tongue so wet and eager, his sucks are inhumanly desperate and his fangs keep tickling your skin. You feel so dizzy, whimpering his title because this is all you can do.

“Oh darling”, he chokes out shakily, abandoning your cleaned and sensitive neck to lick down your body. He releases your arms this way, but you are too weakened to move them.

Taehyung changes your positions as he eagerly explores the paths down to your cunt. He reaches just about under your ribcage when everything is taking too long for him and he uses his powers. His arms grip your legs, using the leverage to turn you on the mattress so you are facing the side of his bed. He proceeds to tug you to the edge of it, falling to his knees before you as his arms pull your hips off the sheets and he can bury his face in your bloodied cunt. This is the only position which allows him to suffocate himself with you and it is also the only way he can truly make sure that you can’t flee. With his arms having an iron grip around your thighs and his hands digging deep into the softness of you, he has you where he wants you. Spread open and cunt on top his face.

He growls deeply, shutting off his better senses as your sweetened taste claims his tongue.

“Tae”, you moan, arching your back even if it is hard to do so in the current position, “ah! Oh god! What t-the hell? Ah!”

The thing about Taehyung’s nose? It is beautiful, ethereal, sculpted by the heavens and goddamn fucking perfect to grind against a sensitive pussy. And the thing about Taehyung? He is crazy enough to do it. Even if this gets his face messy and bloody, even if it means that your scent makes his eyes water from the intensity of it and even if you reach down and pull his hair. You pull so hard, so desperately and it does nothing. Taehyung fucks your sensitive pussy with his nose as deep growls vibrate against it. And while he grinds his perfect nose against your throbbing clit, his dripping tongue fucks your hole at inhuman speeds. He needs to get everything. Every single droplet of your taste. He is delirious from the sweetness, bruising your thighs on accident because of how tightly he grips you.

“Fuck, your taste”, he is cursing, growling the words against your cunt. It means a lot when he curses. He only does so when he is especially emotional. And right now every single emotion runs on nothing but you and your taste. He is consumed by you just as much as he consumes you. He doesn’t even care about etiquette, dirtying his face as he slurps loudly.

Taehyung is a very mannerly feeder. Not many vampires carry such etiquette when they feast, but Taehyung likes to be orderly and neat. He rarely gets his face dirty, let alone make obscene sounds, but you make him forget about every single thing he ever learned about manners. He needs to get dirty, he needs to be disgusting and loud and consume your every drop.

Too long he had to go without your taste and now that he finally has it again – in such a wonderful way on top of it – he is greedy. Manners be damned, he needs to eat you until you have nothing more to give.

“Oh god Tae, oh god, oh god”, you are gasping and chanting and fighting for air, pulling at his hair even if you know that it is fruitless. He is locked onto your pussy. No hair pulling in the world could get him away from you now. His nose is punishing your clit for crimes she never committed while his mouth sucks and licks you dry.

This is the level of desperation you wanted from him and now that you have it, it feels like too much. Not in a way where you truly want him to stop, but in a way which will force you to orgasm even if you had no intention of doing so already.

“You’re the worst, oh god urgh”, you choke out and break, suffocating him with your pussy as he forces you to orgasm. You gasp for air, sob, “you’re so mean. Tae please.”

Taehyung growls into you, pulling you closer. He can’t breathe, at least not normal air. The scent of your blood and orgasm is the only air he receives. He regrets his entire life at this moment because he wonders why he didn’t think of eating your pussy during your period sooner. Oh he missed out on so much. What a fool he was. He presses himself closer, searches for more of your taste even if you are flinching in overstimulation.

“Please a break, please”, you beg, writhing in agony, “please Sir, please!”

Taehyung breaks away from you even if it is difficult. You begged for it and he can’t deny you. He fixes your positions again, making it so you are resting with your head facing the headboard and he is between your legs. It’s so easy for him to push and pull you around. Especially when he has you so weakened from pleasure.

He is pressing his clothed cock against your thigh while his ruined mouth attacks your nipples. He is rubbing his face against them first, soiling your skin with your blood just so he can lick it off of you. He needs to cover every inch of you in your red nectar just to lick it off. Oh how he needs it.

“Oh god, Tae you are so mean”, you get out breathlessly, “I, I didn’t want to cum. Oh god.”

“Do not speak to me of cruelty when you exist to ruin me”, he gets out, lifting his head, “why would you do this to me? Why?” he is asking you, cupping your face to shake your head in desperation, “what have I ever done to you? Tell me.”

You look at him. His face is a mess, covered in your blood. It soaks parts of his hair as well and sticks to spots on his throat. His eyes are dark red, bordering black and his face is just slightly contorted as his monstrous side fights for dominance. You know that he is winning by only a hair’s width right now.

“Why must you do this to me? Isn’t it enough that I dedicate my every fiber to you? Why must you seduce me with your bleeding heaven? Why?” he asks you and presses his cock against your pussy.

“Tae”, you squeak, flinching in reaction. He feels so heavy and big, grinding down on you even if you are so incredibly sensitive.

He thrusts into you as if he was already fucking you, sliding his hands to the crown of your head. He holds you with enough strength that you have to look at him if you wanted to or not.

“I need you to push me away”, he croaks, “push me away. It is the only way to stop me from ripping my clothes off and fucking you until you have to relearn how to walk.”

The thing is. The small break he gave you as he sucked your nipples and begged for answers you didn’t possess, was enough for you. You want more. You want him. All of him.

“I don’t want to push you away”, you tell him, reaching up to open his shirt.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do this if you aren’t ready to bear the consequences”, he warns you, dropping your face to instead twist the pillow. The voices are screaming at him. Claim her! She is yours to take, so take her! It is so difficult to stay human when remnants of your taste still linger on his tongue.

You pull open his shirt and touch his nipples. Taehyung growls.

“Don’t. I am warning you”, he gets out.

Your lips curl into a dangerous smirk, “you can teach me how to walk, can’t you? Sir.”

“Fuck”, he breaks. He rips his own clothes off his body before claiming the space atop you. He grips your leg and pulls you close, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy in an almost punishing way.

You flinch and moan softly, feeling your senses blur. It hurts, but you like it. Taehyung does it again, forcing incredible pleasure through your pussy.

“Do you really want this?” he asks as he repeatedly drags his cock through your swollen folds, ending it with an aggressive spank to your clit each time.

“Yes”, you sigh, parting your legs further and arching your tits closer to him.

“Beg me.”

“Please Sir, please”, you beg gladly.

“You’re such a good little slut. I trained you so well”, he lulls and pushes his thick cock past your soaked entrance. He slips in without resistance, forcing a trembling breath to slip past his lips, “such a good slut”, he presses out, scrunching his nose in pleasure.

He hits your limit. You are so much tighter than on other days. Taehyung still has a good two inches he could fit. The thought turns him on so much. That he fills you out to your literal brim and he still has more to offer. And he is only showing off his human size right now. He is so big. Oh, how it fills him with pleasure and confidence.

“Oh”, you let out, growing limp underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed.

“Keep your eyes open”, he orders darkly.

You obey even if it is difficult.

“That’s better. Keep them on me”, he speaks demandingly, fucking his huge cock into you in dragged-out, maddening strokes, “I need you to look me in the eyes as you realise what all of this begging will get you. You think you can handle me? You think that not pushing me away is a good idea? That I will not completely rewrite your definition of pleasure? Sweetest, you have driven me to the brink of insanity with your endless begging”, he rasps, curling his lips back to show off the two pairs of fangs in his mouth. You know what this means and how feral you have gotten him.

“Tae”, you sob, grabbing his chest because this is as far as your weakened arms can go.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” he asks. Even now he checks up on you. Even when he speaks of insanity and looks like a monster, he checks up on you. Bear in mind, the question carried a hint of teasing to it, but more than anything it was honest and came from a loving heart.

“No”, you whimper.

“But?”

“You feel so good”, you wail, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles in pleasure.

“Mhhm sweetest”, Taehyung purrs, burying himself deeper inside you. He is holding back tonight. You are so tender inside, your changed anatomy allows for his human size to barely fit. If he allowed the monster to take over, he fears that he might rip you apart. He could never rip you apart, even if the voices tell him to. No, he won’t let them win. He will break you in his way. Fuck you until your spirit is broken and you exist for him. This is so much more fun either way.

So he fucks slow and he fucks precise. He knows a woman’s body well enough to be aware that sometimes less is more. That all a woman needs are precise, attentive grinds against her spots so deep inside.

His own instincts tell him to fuck fast, to drill you and reshape your insides, but he knows not to rush it. Drag it out. He is still in control of the voices. Drag it out. Keep the hunt going. This isn’t the last time he will taste you tonight. The feed isn’t over. This is just another part of the chase.

The attentive, precise fuck he gives you is hard to handle. You think that you could manage a lot better if he drilled you like a dumb animal. But this? This ruins you on another level. You claw at his chest and try to get him closer by wrapping your legs around him. You manage to drape them over his thighs weakly and that is as far as you can go before the mindnumbing pleasure makes you shake.

“Tae”, you sob, spilling tears and scrunching your face up while Taehyung looks at you with a sense of tranquillity surrounding him. You are so ruined while he barely lets it show.

“Look at me”, he says into the symphony of moans and shaky breaths.

You obey even if it is hard.

“Did I ever tell you why I am calling you my sweetest?” he asks.

“No”, you whimper.

Taehyung leans closer, letting his hot breath swirl over your lips. His cock bends and stretches you out even more.

“Because there is no taste sweeter than you”, he rasps and purrs, writing his name on your deepest spots while his eyes flash up bright red.

“Tae”, you squeakily beg, “Tae, I need to cum again.”

“Yes? Just like this? I am barely even moving and it is making you climax?”

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Of course it does. You are such a good little slut for big cock. I know you darling, you’re so sensitive and so overstimulated and yet you still beg for more”, he speaks tauntingly while his cock makes the sweetest love to your deepest spots. The pleasure sits in your tummy. So, so deep that it gets hard to concentrate. You feel on fire and he hasn’t even broken you yet.

“Hm, sweetest? Are you my greedy cock slut?”

You nod your head.

“Then tell me or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I’m…greedy- ah”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “you’re making me cum.”

“Not so fast”, Taehyung slows down but moves his hips just right to keep you on edge. The build-up isn’t ruined, but dragged out for as long as he sees fit.

“Please”, you squeak.

“Use your words and I will reward you. Come now, don’t disobey me”, he encourages you, caressing your cheek gently.

You try again because you don’t want to disobey him.

“I’m your, ah, your cock slut. Ah, Tae please. Please let me cum, please.”

“You are such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you. My bestest girl”, he praises and rewards you with deep, circular motions against your sensitive spots. This is going to break you and he knows it.

“I’m cumming. Tae, thank you”, you sob and arch your back, “ah! Tae!”

“That’s it. You’re doing such a good job. That’s my good girl. That’s it”, he is talking you through it, dragging out your orgasm to the point where you grip the sheets and twist them.

But Taehyung isn’t satisfied. Yes you are gripping the sheets, but this is not what you should grip. Not when his body is right there. Unmarked. He isn’t done with you yet until he has you hurting him from pleasure.

“I am not done with you yet”, he is purring his words, keeping an obsessive grip on your left hip, “tell me to stop. Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t do it on my own.”

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Shit”, Taehyung growls and takes your hands just to pin them above your head. He speeds up his hips, finally using momentum to drill his cock into you. It sounds wet. So wet. Embarrassingly wet even. And harsh. His skin connects with yours in loud slaps while the springs of his bed creak in protest. Truly, it is a wonder that the furniture in this estate survived as long as it did.

“Oh god”, you gasp and writhe, “oh god, oh god, oh god. Ah!”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me, darling”, he is panting, staring at you with deep red eyes. Your blood is lingering on his skin and filling his nose with a maddening scent. Your orgasm sticks to his cock and mixes with your sweet scent. You are pulsating in your afterglow, burning hot because he doesn’t allow the fire to die down. He is so furiously desperate for you.

You shake your head.

“Faster please”, you beg.

“This is not what you were supposed to say. Oh, you greedy, insatiable woman. I can’t stop”, he rasps and moans, dropping on top of you and knocking a squeak out of you.

He reaches above your hands, growling into your neck. His long fingers grip the pillow and twist. The cover rips within a second. His back muscles flex and twitch as his body shudders in the pleasure of being with you.

“I can’t stop myself”, he growls and picks you up. He runs with you in his arms and on his cock until your back hits something icy.

You squeak, looking around yourself. You are outside his bedroom, fucking against the tall windows of his corridor. Outside the night is dark and ominous while inside, Taehyung takes you against the cold windows in a pitch black corridor. The only light source is his bedroom. The door is thrown open from his strength, the golden light paints a rectangle on the marble floor and red carpet. It hues Taehyung’s body in it as well, creating a play of shadow and light. His pearls of sweat are glistening in it, while his black, pulsing veins seem especially dark and throbbing. He lifts his head from your neck, giving view to the deep red of your blood, his burgundy eyes and the ebony mess of his hair sticking to his features.

“Tae”, you keen, feeling light-headed. The coldness of the window feels miniscule in comparison to the fire he lets you experience.

“I have to take you against every surface of this wing until the very fibres of this building know your every moan”, he chokes out as he bounces you on his cock. Quick and punishing. Your tits bounce, your pussy squirts red pleasure and your limbs can barely hold on. You throw your head back and wail.

Wail in pleasure because nothing feels better right now than Taehyung's cock reshaping your insides.

“Yes darling, show them. Show them how my good girl sounds as I fuck her.”

“Tae I have to- again!”

“Climax as often as you need to. I won’t stop you.”

“Tae!”

And as you shake in his arms and soil his entire lower body with your bloody orgasm, Taehyung slows down to drag it out again. He fucks you deep, slow and punishing until you claw at his shoulders to the point of open scratches. And then, only then, he pulls you closer. Your back leaves the window, his cock fills you up so deep. Movement. Clattering of stuff hitting the ground. Next, wood under your body and Taehyung holding your legs apart.

This is the drawer he keeps by the entrance of his wing. Normally he keeps his outdoor essentials on it, but they are currently on the floor as he uses the piece of sturdy furniture to fuck you into a state of senselessness. The light of the atelier shines onto the corridor and gives you a chance to see what he is doing. Not that you have a lot of your vision at this point.

“Every surface darling, every single surface until you tell me to stop”, he growls. His dark hair is hanging into his ruby eyes, giving him an aura of danger. You know him to be of no danger to you, finding the view nothing but arousing instead. You are scared though, not of him of course, but of the immense pleasure he makes you feel. No human should feel this good and yet you do. Truly, you are so scared, craving more until you can’t anymore.

“Tae please, Tae…”

He pulls his cock out and pumps it angrily. It is messed up in your blood, dripping translucent desperation. Taehyung uses the sinful concoction to pleasure himself while his crazed eyes flit to your pussy.

“You’re gaping”, he assess and growls, “my pretty gaping slut. My cock ruined you and it’s not even my true size.”

He is using contractions. Taehyung rarely uses them. You have him ruined, you truly have.

“Sir, I’m your cock slut”, you mewl, writhing desperately.

“Fuck, I want to break you.”

Thump.

He fell to his knees before you, connecting his mouth with your pussy instantly. Well fucked and creamed with his taste. Taehyung moans and slips his tongue as deep as possible. His taste of possession mixes with your blood. He growls, fucking his own cock sore from how angrily he jerks himself. He feels like an animal right now. His vampiric nature has a hold of him, there is not an ounce of sanity left in him. The only thing which keeps him grounded, is the punishing handjob he gives himself. The pain and roughness of it keeps him with you.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who experiences pain right now. You are so sensitive that his tongue feels like torture on your pussy. A torture you chase with weak squirms of your hips.

“Slow please”, you beg without meaning it, gripping the edge of the dresser, “please, ah! Please!”

Taehyung lifts his lips for your sake. He puts your feet on his shoulders, looking up at you even if you have your head rolled to the side weakly.

“Keep breathing for me”, he orders you and dives back down.

“How should I- ah!” you arch your back, digging your feet into his shoulders as you try to squirm. He is dragging his tongue through your folds quickly, taking advantage of the position to really taste every inch of you. You squirm, “please slow, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he murmurs against your pussy and concentrates his licks on your clit.

“Oh god, Tae”, you wail, dropping into the hard dresser in defeat. You have to take what he gives you. You signed up for this and now you are paying the sweetest consequences.

The last few orgasms sat deep and didn’t originate from your clit. No, Taehyung dragged them out of you from the deepest parts of your cunt. He doesn’t need the most obvious spot to make you shake and because he doesn’t, the stimulation he gives you right now feels especially good. Your clit was so left out, so neglected it felt as if he was edging it. And now you have his burning, slickened-up tongue frenching it aggressively.

“Slow please”, you beg, trying to breathe.

The only reason why you beg for him to slow down is because it is so goddamn embarrassing how fast you orgasm with him. You managed to take in one song coming from his atelier’s record player and then you are already fighting for your right to sanity. Please, just once you want to have to fight for your orgasm. Just once, you want to feel as if it will never come.

“Sir. Tae Sir. Please.”

But of course Taehyung doesn’t listen. Because Taehyung isn’t human right now and you are his feast. Taehyung hates being interrupted when he feeds. And so you are destined to find your downfall at the tip of his dripping tongue while the very fibres of this building learn the sound of your moans. And so you scream and wail and beg him for mercy. And Taehyung doesn’t listen until he has you filling his throat with your squirt. It mixes with your blood and forces Taehyung to climax all over his hand.

He growls into your pussy, scrunching his face because the orgasm feels like torture. He purposefully doesn’t allow it to feel good. He crushes his own balls and slaps his own cockhead because this is what keeps him human. He can’t allow himself to enjoy his heaven when this could mean your downfall.

“Sir! Please! It hurts! Ah please!”

You wonder if people outside can hear you. You are so close to his exit after all.

Taehyung doesn’t give you time to think of this possibility as he keeps you with him the second your endless orgasms stopped. He picks you up from the dresser and the next time you find yourself feeling at least a little sane, you are in his atelier, sitting on his lap as he occupies his couch. He uses said couch to pose you or Jungkook in the most beautiful position. Most of the time, they are very sensual poses however if you are allowed to be blunt for a second.

You drop into him, trembling atop his lap. His body is wet. Sweat, blood, squirt and his own cum. The sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to sob and tremble. Taehyung soothes it by running his hands up and down your back.

“Are you still enjoying this, darling? You are shaking so much”, he is checking up on you again. He treats you so fucking good.

You nod your head, twisting his hair weakly.

“Please more, please”, you beg him, drooling all over his shoulder because you can’t swallow anymore. Not when he has broken you so, so good.

“Such a greedy slut”, he says and picks you up to sit you down on his cock. He has grown into his vampiric size by now, resulting in him having to carry you as he moves you up and down on his length. You couldn’t possibly take him all. Not when you are already so entirely destroyed from everything he did to you. He doesn’t mind that he has to carry you. On the contrary, it is so utterly arousing to him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. Well-fucked, gaping and dripping sweet blood. There is no toy more perfect than you.

“Oh god”, you get out, pressing yourself closer to him. You can feel the remnants of his orgasm smearing all over your walls. It sounds so wet. You are so tight and swollen that it makes the nastiest sucking sounds each time he moves you up.

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought that you still had an orgasm in you, but you were wrong. The thought exhausts you. You can’t give him any more. You are used up. Utterly and truly used up.

“I can’t cum anymore”, you get out, crying tears, “please don’t make me cum again, oh god.”

“Keep being good for me. I promise, it’s not long anymore”, he encourages you, meeting his movements in the middle by rolling his hips up.

“Tae”, you whimper, soiling his skin with your tears, “sensitive. I can’t cum anymore.”

“I know darling, I know. You’re so good, such a good girl. I have to climax again. I’m almost there, keep being good for me.”

“Oh god”, you croak and hug him desperately, “Tae…”

“Almost there, darling”, he breathes and squeezes your buttocks, “help me, mhm? Do you want to help me reach it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“That’s my good toy”, he praises and kisses your cheek, “cover your fingers in your blood and feed it to me.”

You follow his orders happily, reaching behind yourself to drag your fingers through the mess your bodies make between your legs. More. You bury two of your fingers in your pussy even if his cock is already taking so much of you.

“Yes”, he growls, throbbing deep inside, “oh, so tight”, he sighs under his breath, tilting his head back as a guttural moan leaves him.

You slip your fingers out, staring at them with teary eyes. They are so messy, covered in thick blood. Taehyung stares at them as well, tightening his grip on your body as his hips chases your heat.

Your eyes meet.

He sticks his tongue out. Fangs appeared on his lower teeth as well, glistening in the lights.

“Tae”, you whimper and press your fingers down on his tongue.

He growls and closes his mouth around them, rolling his eyes back in bliss. He doesn’t bother closing his lids, keeping them open halfway to give view of his ruined state. He growls and moans, growls and moans, sucks, thrusts his hips and whimpers. His once deep, demonic voice switches into the highest, most desperate squeak and seconds later you feel him filling you with his hot cum.

You are so sensitive that even his cum painting your walls feels like too much. You drop your head on his shoulder, losing your every strength as Taehyung pumps you full of his orgasm.

Your fingers slip out of his mouth once he has to gasp for air.

“Oh heavens”, he lets out, lifting you off his cock just to drop you atop his lap. His cun squirts everywhere instantly.

He wraps his arms around you tightly, shuddering in his intense afterglow, “oh my darling”, he breathes, burying his face deep in the crook of your shoulder, “how are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, you whimper, “Sir, please don’t let go.”

Taehyung hugs you tighter, soothing your trembles with tender hands running over your body.

“I am right here, my darling. Oh, how well you did. How proud I am of you”, he speaks sweetly, washing away the aches from your heart.

Sex like tonight often times leaves you feeling embarrassed and disgusted at yourself. You can’t explain it and it isn’t your lovers’ fault. It is just hard to accept that you let yourself go in such ways once the ecstatic pleasure clears from your mind. If Taehyung would let go of you right now, you would have an actual mental breakdown. You need his comfort like you need air.

And Taehyung knows that you need it. He is shaken himself, feeling ruined from the sex and dizzy from the blood high. He needs to hold and be held just as much as you do, but he is also aware that you need so much more comfort than he does.

“You did so well”, and so he praises you, kisses your shoulder and sways you gently, “you are so precious and worthy of so much love. Oh darling, how much I love you.”

You release a trembling breath and with it so much pressure on your heart. Taehyung soothes the aches in your neck with a gentle hand, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his whispers continue.

“I am so blessed, my sweetest darling. Thank you so much for giving me a right to your beautiful body. Oh, how I want to spend every remaining second of this day worshipping it.”

You giggle. Warmth fills Taehyung’s heart. He helped you through the hardest part of coming back. He chuckles with you, turning your head gently to press a kiss to your cheek and next your closed eyelid. You scrunch your face, chasing him with a happy giggle shaking your shoulders.

He giggles as well, smiling against your skin.

“My good girl”, he whispers, pecking your cheek, “my sweetest darling. Mhm, my sweet ___.”

“Tae”, you sigh, nudging his cheek with your nose before lifting your head to meet his eyes. You are basically glowing in happiness, “Tae…”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you”, you say and scrunch your nose, “I feel so good.”

“Yes?” he smiles, cupping your cheek, “I feel good as well, my darling. You make me so proud.”

You giggle, leaning into his palm. You close your eyes and sigh, letting your shoulders fall in relaxation.

“Should we take a shower, my darling?” he offers.

“Yeah”, you nod your head, peeling your eyes open. You snicker, cupping his cheeks, “you’re so dirty. Oh god, Tae there’s blood everywhere.”

“I know, it’s wonderful”, he says and smiles playfully, “I hope that is just your period. I made sure to be careful, but you were so tender today.”

“You were perfect. It didn’t hurt at all”, you assure him and wiggle your shoulders, “I’m so happy. I really like it when you are rough with me and this was perfect.”

“Yes, yes it was perfect for me as well”, Taehyung says and hugs you close. He stands up with you in his arms, “I shall take care of you and then we shall find sleep in the library.”

“Yes, wow”, you gasp, “can you read me a story then?”

“I will read you not one, but two stories my darling”, he says, making you giggle and snuggle closer.

“Maybe three?”

“Of course, oh what a question. I will read you even four stories.”

“Wow”, you snicker and squeeze him gently, “I’m happy.”

Taehyung smiles, bouncing you in his arms gently to tighten his grip.

“I’m happy as well, darling”, he tells you, making a promise to himself to dedicate tonight solely to your happiness.

He will do an amazing job. He is your perfect darling after all.

623 notes · View notes

genshin-side-piece · 9 months

Text

Love Me Tender

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry), my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

Maybe OOC for him? It's hard to say.

Neuvillette's favorite time to be with you is in the dead of night. He enjoys the days, in the sense that he enjoys being near you. Watching you from across the room did bring a sense of comfort from the knowledge that you were safe in his care, but that was all. He garnered no satisfaction in it, not when he ached to be so much closer to you than what he is allowed to be. You denied him that. Despite you being in his home, in his care, you denied him the right to be next to or close to you. He was only ever allowed to be near and even that had not come easily. It was the one concession you had made after doing all you could to avoid him.

In the past, outside of meals, you had always left the room the second he would appear. It was in vain of course. Neuvillette would follow you, like a loyal dog follows its master. His eyes fixed on your form, dutifully watching your every move. Room to room, hallway to hallway, until he finally cornered you in a space where you could not escape. From there he would take his appointed place near the door, keeping you where he wanted you until it was time to change for dinner or on the rarest of rare things, he allowed you to take dinner in your room before going to bed early. It had gone on from the day you had entered his house, lasting for months on end. You would run and he would chase. Oddly, he found it fun. The concept of chasing or hunting you awoke something dormant in him. An instinct that had long been buried due to its lack of use. It became a game between you, a battle of wills to see if he could trap you or if you could manage to get away. You never did of course. He had the upper hand when it came to his hunting grounds. If he wanted you in a particular room or to travel a specific path, he knew which keys to hide and which doors to lock beforehand to get you to go the way he intended.

His favorite place to keep you was his study. Unlike the other spaces in his house, the study was on the smaller side. His desk dominated most of the space in the room, leaving either a small sofa or a chair beside him as your only two choices if you wished to sit. Any of the other options you had tried, like the corner that was furthest from him, were automatically dismissed. Seeing you was a luxury he could rarely afford. While he enjoyed his hunts, Neuvillette preferred not to waste what time he did have with you moving furniture every time he wished to see your face. His one insistence on the matter had been that you make a choice between resting by his side or the sofa. He had told you he didn’t have a preference of where, even though it was very clear he did. By his side was always preferable, though the thought of you sitting on the floor that first time awoke something that the gentleman in him tried its best to deny. Just the idea of you kneeling beside him was enough to make his c*ck stir. On the nights he didn’t come to your side, he laid awake, practically consumed by it. Your cheek grazing his thigh, his fingers combing their way through your silky hair, your contented little sigh as you rested your full weight against his leg. It was pathetic to think that fantasizing about the most basic forms of contact were enough to bring him to a swift orgasm, but here he was. After many months together, Neuvillette found himself so desperate for your acceptance, for your love, for your warmth that the mere mention of contact would cause him to make a mess of his hand. Maybe it was a good thing you always chose the sofa. If you did bring yourself to willingly be beside him or touch him, he might cum on the spot.

He had time to work on that or at least that’s how he consoled himself as he cleaned himself up in the dark. The weather had been warm as of late. It had made maintaining a specific distance easy for you. He had to wonder if you would feel the same way once the weather turned cold. His office, like the rest of his house, did have a reputation for being drafty. Since you refused anything beyond the most basic of garments from him, it was only a matter of time before the cold got to you. What would you do then? Would you accept that as your appointed guardian he would have little choice but to punish you for your foolishness by holding you in his embrace as a means to warm you back up or would you suffer the chill for the sake of your own stubbornness?

The answer, to Neuvillette’s great surprise, was neither.

If his study was one of the coldest rooms, then outside of the bedrooms, the warmest place in the house was the drawing room. When the winter months came, the drawing room became a place of refuge for you since your keeper advised you that hiding in your bedroom was out of the question. Even if Neuvillette would happily cover you with blankets and furs should you ask, your pride decided you were better not to. You would rather freeze or in this instance, tolerate him being near you for the sake of staying warm. It had been a small victory for him. One that he relished every time he looked at you. From then on, you allowed him to sit in the same room as you, provided he stayed on his side. If he dared to get closer, he earned himself a scowl worthy of shearing the cliffs of Fontaine into the sea below. That’s if you looked at him at all. On the nicer days, your eyes were always fixed on something else, mainly the windows and the world beyond them.

Your present situation is not fair. He’s been made painfully aware of that through his own experiences with you. In general, Neuvillette understands that humans are meant to be free, or free within the limits that the laws of the land allow. The loss of that freedom should those laws be broken was to remind your kind of their place in this world. You, however, had broken no laws. At least none that were on the official books. In the eyes of Fontaine, you had been a model citizen, therefore you should be free. As far as Neuvillette’s own standards and rules were concerned, your behavior had been less than ideal. Hence his need to lock you away.

Neuvillette remembered the day or rather the circumstances that had caused him to clip your wings. He’d had you on schedule for sometime. You weren’t aware of it, but through his own manipulation of your life, you would wake at a certain time, eat at a certain time, work for a specific length, and finally report home at an appointed hour. Before his influence you had run around as you pleased. Your erratic behavior of running to and fro had made watching you from afar impossible. The schedule he slowly imposed upon you fixed all of that. You being at a specific place, at a specific time made things easier for the melusines to keep an eye on you and report in. Everything had been running rather smoothly, and Neuvillette found himself pleased with the outcome. You were where he wanted you, when he wanted you. Things were as low maintenance as they could be, until you decided to throw a wrench into the machine.

He had been stuck at the opera for days, knee deep in an idiotic dispute. It was on that day, that you had decided to deviate from your normal routine. Thinking back on it, had things ended there and you had gotten back on track, nothing would have happened. In Neuvillette’s mind, one day's worth of deviation was tolerable. You took days off from time to time. It wasn’t too hard to pick up your routine on those days. You generally slept later or ate at different times, but there was one constant; you always kept yourself to the city. The melusines could find you without too much trouble. The only real inconvenience was that the daily reports about you were thrown off their schedule. He didn’t particularly care for it, but in this instance, it hadn’t mattered. This time, outside of one fact, the reports about what you ate, where you went, and who you spoke to couldn’t be made at all. How could they, when you had vanished without a trace?

There had been no warning, none of the usual signs that you were tired or stressed or in need of a rest. The day you had vanished started like all the others, the only difference was that it had begun with your bed being empty. The report that you hadn’t gone to work as you should didn’t reach him at the opera. Neither had any of the others regarding your lack of contact. Instead, the reports had been delivered, as instructed, to his office at the Palais Mermonia. Words like vanished, missing, and lost didn’t find him until he returned to the city two days later. At the time, he had believed you had been kidnapped. His own panic that you were missing had dismissed the concept that you had left of your own volition. The idea that you had decided to go away to the mountains for a few days seemed inconceivable to him. You hadn’t slipped your schedule while he had been distracted. You hadn’t taken one of the water taxis out of the city while no one was watching. No, in his own paranoid mind you hadn’t left, you had been kidnapped. Neuvillette had many enemies. Despite his own discretion regarding you, they must have gotten wind of you. That had to have been it. There was no other reason for the fact you hadn’t returned. You had been stolen. The very idea that you had been taken triggered something in him; something ancient, something primal. He needed to find you. He needed to hide you. He needed to protect you. Your part would be to comply with his wishes. Refusal was not an option.

Neuvillette’s search for you was thorough. He scoured the countryside for you, searching above and below the surface for any sign of you or your abductors. No crevice of Fontaine was left untouched. No stone unturned, no ruin not inspected. It took him an additional three days to find you. When he did, the little house that you were staying in seemed anticlimactic. There were no guards nor was there any real fight. Just your utter confusion at the sight of the Chief Justice standing outside your door and Neuvillette’s solemn vow that he would never allow anything like this to happen again.

Even if it meant locking you away, your freedom could stand the sacrifice.

The contempt and rage that followed was something that took Neuvillette completely by surprise. He didn’t believe you possessed such strong emotions, but they were there. All it had taken was the cage door being locked shut to bring them to the surface. All he could do was listen as your cries and protestations lasted for days on end. Initially he had tried to calm you, calm your anger, but it had only made things worse. Stern or soft words didn't make a difference. You just continued to rage at him, so in turn he met you with silence. It wasn’t that he was insensitive to the situation, he knew taking your freedom wasn’t ideal. Where Neuvillette took issue was that he simply didn’t understand your reasons for being upset. The loss of freedom was unfortunate, but was it necessary. The schedule had been designed to keep you out of trouble. His motive in bringing you to his home was to keep you safe. You had deviated from one, so the solution was the other. Could you not see he was trying to help?

Even with his justifications though, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t feel guilty about what he had done. Your safety was of the utmost importance to him, but he desired nothing more than for you to be at peace with his decision. Neuvillette had brought you here for your own good. The world was a dangerous place and you, well you were far from safe in it. Your little disappearing act had shown him how incapable you were without him. That the schedule he had imposed upon you from afar was not enough. You needed a heavier hand to guide you, to keep you, to protect you. He knew you would be happier if you could be free, but that was no longer an option. Maybe that’s why he could never bring himself to be harsh with you. Neuvillette knows that on the surface, he could make your relationship be what he wanted it to be. Should his patience run much thinner, he could take a firm stance with you. He could apply force. It would be nothing for him to attach a leash to the invisible collar he made you wear and keep you at arm's length at all times. You could be bent, you could be broken, and most of all you could be rebuilt how he wanted you to be. Then, his dream for a life with you might be fulfilled. If he remade you how he wanted, you would smile at him like you do other things. He wouldn’t find himself envious of the sun, the music from the phonograph, the books you are permitted to read, and even the birds that play on the other side of the window. You wouldn’t love all of them more than you loved him. He would be worthy of the smile he yearned for. The same smile he adored from afar and the same one that vanished the second you see him. His very soul shattered every time your lips fell into a thin line across your face, never failing to draw that same line across the room and his own heart.

That's what made the dead of night so special.

In the night, after sleep had claimed you, the hard line that you had drawn between you and he vanished. The darkness that consumed the world hid the truth of the entire situation perfectly. In those precious hours, he could pretend that you loved him. He could pretend that you understood his reasoning for his actions towards you. In his own mind, Neuvillette could make you accept that you were something delicate and rare. That you were unable to guard yourself from a world so keen to harm you. That you needed him to help you. He had imagined your gratitude a thousand times over. Decant thoughts of you thanking him for being your savior, of you falling into his arms, of your sweet lips on his, of your soft cries as he plunged his c*ck into you over and over.

It was untoward for him to think of you like that. He shouldn’t really. It was ungentlemanly to do so. But some things couldn’t be helped. When the night washed away the scowl that was reserved solely for him, Neuvillette found it all too easy to let his mind wander. He embraced the privilege of crossing the threshold of your bedroom and pretending that the smile you often wore in your sleep was for him. He could approach you without hesitation then. He could indulge himself in the feeling of your hair in between his fingers as he brushed it away from your face, the warmth of your skin as he ran his hands over the parts of your body that your nightgown or the heavy comforter refused to hide. He could work out his own frustrations by your side, his one hand fervently stroking his c*ck, while the other traced the lines of your thighs.

The entire charade was a ridiculous one. Something that in the cold reality of day he would dismiss as folly and nothing more. Logic, in this case, would always win out. You weren’t grateful to him. There was no way you ever would be. You didn’t understand his reasons for confining you. You would never understand his reasons. How could you? In your short life span, you had been blessed with peace. The world as you knew it hadn’t been torn asunder. You hadn’t witnessed the destruction of all you hold dear. If you had, perhaps you might share his view that you needed to be kept safe. Then, maybe Neuvillette wouldn’t have to reduce himself to being nothing more than a pathetic figure, pining for you in the dark.

Because god how he wanted you, how he needed you, how he loved you. On his worst days, when the burden of the nation was to the point that he felt the weight of it would crush him, he had you. His corner in the drawing room tied him over until the stars climbed high into the sky. Then, in the darkness of your bedroom, with only the moon light to serve as witness, Neuvillette could wrap himself in around you and wash his own worries away with the tears he spilled into your hair. Whispering a silent prayer that when the dawn came, perhaps today would be the day that you would see that he is yours.

#yandere genshin x you #yandere!genshin #yandere genshin #yan genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #this was a bit of a struggle #Neuv is a difficult character to grasp #bravo hoyo

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m-jelly · 2 months

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Demon Huntress Reader x Incubus Levi. Incubus!Levi tempts and seduces Reader to have fun with him (they are secretly lovers)

@2moth-anon2 requested

Irresistible lover

Incubus Levi x fem!reader

Supernatural AU, magical AU, fluff, romance, being a couple, flirtatious Levi, sexual language, teasing, touching, oral, monster loving.

While on a journey to hunt down a dangerous demon, Levi temps you over and over with delicious words and touches. You give in to temptation and allow your lover to fawn over you.

Lore: Some demons help hunters hunt down bad demons. Levi offered his services to help because a demon killed his two friends. As a result of helping you, he fell madly in love with you and you fell for him and you became a couple.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

You released a long sigh as you grabbed the magic scroll on your next target. You were tired, exhausted and frustrated. Work had been non-stop for you and it had meant less couple time with Levi. As a demon, Levi had a large and deep hunger for you. So, it was hard to get the balance right between doing your job as a hunter of demons and being dedicated to Levi.

Even though Levi was a hungry demon, he was very patient and sweet with you. To him, you were worth the wait. Every inch of you was delicious and your heart was so beautiful. The love he had for you was unmeasurable.

The stress and exhaustion were just rolling off you and Levi could sense it. Levi wanted to fix this, he wanted to get you to relax, he wanted you to smile, he wanted you to be happy and to do that he had a plan.

As soon as you walked into your study at the hunter base, he locked the door and used his powers to make the room darker - it was mood lighting. It appeared you didn't notice, so Levi was going to pull out all the stops.

Levi changed his human appearance to more of his demon one because he knew how much you loved it. His horns grew large on his head, scales appeared on the corners of his face, up his neck and all over his body. His hands turned into strong claws that looked like they had been dipped in tar. His long tail whipped to the side as he growled in pleasure. His tongue was long and pointed for perfect reach and lastly, his shirt peeled off his body to show off his muscles.

He pushed his raven hair back and slowly slinked his way over to you. The way he called your name was sensual like it was pleasurable to call out. He dragged a claw across the table and growled. "You seem...stressed."

You whined a bit as you kept working. "I am. This needs to be done. He's a high-ranking demon on the loose. I need to stop him."

"That will happen. I know you will." He grabbed the magical scroll making you pout and protest. "But you need a break."

You stood up. "He doesn't stop so I shouldn't."

Levi tossed the scroll right as a flying little imp appeared and took it away. "Darling sweetness, he will rest, trust me." He stared you up and down. "You look good enough to eat."

You blushed. "You say that all the time. Call your imp back and give me the scroll."

He reached over the desk and pressed a claw into your shirt right between your breasts. "I will, but after you've been a good girl and relaxed. I'm worried about you." He pulled his claw down and slowly ripped your shirt open. "You are so arousing."

You shivered as your warm skin was met with the room's cool air. "Levi."

He eyed your breasts in your bra. "So supple, plump and delicious."

You pulled back and yanked the shirt closed. "Y-You're distracting m-me."

He leapt over the desk and sat on the edge right in front of you. "My intention."

You tried to move away but Levi's wings burst from his back, and one of them moved and blocked your path. You turned and tried to escape the other way, but his tail wrapped around your thigh. "Le-Levi."

Levi looped his claw finger around your belt loop and tugged. "You work so hard. You're so strong. You're so inspiring." He ran his lips right between your breasts and inhaled deeply. "A darling love like you should be worshipped and rewarded." He delicately kissed your skin. "Such a magnificent love."

You mewled in delight and tangled your fingers in his hair. "You're too sweet to me."

He looked up at you. "You deserve your body to be worshipped every day and night." He licked his lips to show his long pointed tongue. "Say yes."

You could feel the yes on the tip of your tongue, but your senses came to you. You had a job to do and you shouldn't be playing with your demon boyfriend. You turned in his arms and mewled. "I need a new shirt and to start working."

Levi ran his hands up your body as he spoke against your ear. "You work so hard all the time. You need a break. Everyone takes breaks. Everyone needs to relax and unwind." One hand massaged your hip as the other gripped your breast. "So many knots in such an alluring body. It must be so hard for you."

You leaned your head back and relaxed against his touch. "Mm, it is."

"A good night's rest and some good loving with work all the knots out and help you think fresh."

"You're right."

He nipped your earlobe between his sharp canines. "Just a night off. One simple night off won't do any harm."

You leaned against Levi, your weight now fully on him. Legs now weak, you sat between Levi's legs on the edge of the desk. A blissful sigh escaped your lips as Levi continued his touches and massaging. Every move he made was electrifying to you, it always was.

You turned your head and gazed deep into Levi's eyes as they glinted with power. "Do you love me?"

Levi smiled softly at you. "More than words can describe. You have my whole heart and immortal soul. I love you, forever and more."

You welled up as your heart swelled with adoration. "I love you too."

He leaned closer. "I know. I can feel it through our bond. It is...breathtaking." He crashed his lips against yours as his fingers plunged down into your underwear and began caressing your clit.

You felt a shiver run through you as two long clawed fingers pressed deep into your pussy and pressed you in every perfect way. The palm of his hand stimulated your attention-seeking clit. Each soft and intentional movement was hypnotic and pleasurable to you.

Levi's long pointed demon tongue was blazing hot inside your mouth. The way he moved was soothing and yet arousing. You felt safe, calm and relaxed, but also like your body was on fire. All you could do was cling to your lover as he moved and worshipped your mortal body, which in time he would make immortal like him.

A light whimper came from you as soon as he pinched your nipple. A throbbing of pleasure pumped through you from your chest to your heat and back. The danger of it all added to the sexual pleasure. If anyone knew about the undying love between the two of you, or that you took part in the pleasure of the body with each other, you would be shunned and banished from your people.

Most would have accused Levi of tempting you to love him, but Levi would tell you otherwise. Levi's intention was to make a deal with you to take revenge. However, your heart, body and soul lured him in and he was hopelessly in love and yours. You were Levi's master and he would do anything for you. Although, when it came to sex, he was always the tempter because he was a demon of sex.

Levi pulled from your lips as your moans heightened in pitch. The light in Levi's eyes brightened. "That's it, my darling. Cum against my hand and enjoy the pleasure that is your body."

You threw your head back and cried out in bliss as you felt a pleasurable pop. "Levi."

Levi moaned in pleasure as you fed him with power. "Good girl." He dragged his fingers from you and licked them clean. "Delicious meal."

You leaned against his chest. "Mm..."

He lifted you up and laid you on your desk. "Worry not, my darling." He licked his lips and moaned. "I will help you relax more." He clicked a clawed finger against your trousers and panties causing them to slice off. "I will plunge my tongue deep into your pussy and enjoy the flavours of your arousal." He knelt before you and shifted your legs over his shoulders. "I must kneel before my altar."

You reached down and gripped his horns. "I'm all yours."

His long pointed tongue dragged up your lips and clit. He smirked as you whimpered. "Relax. Let me take care of you."

You threw your head back as his long, thick and pointed tongue plunged deep into you. Your thighs clamped around his handsome face. Your back arched as he moved and rolled his tongue. A shiver ran through you as his clawed hands ran down your body. You knew very well that this was not going to be something short, it was going to be an all-night loving.

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fanaura · 1 year

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can you write an nsfw where there’s like this ‘mating ritual’ where when a two na’vi want to mate the male must earn his woman by being able to successfully catch her/hunt her down as she runs away and tries not to be caught? so in this nsfw neteyam is hunting his soon to be mate and there’s lots of teasing but eventually he catches her and they mate? love your writing x

STOP THAT IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA Y'ALL ARE JUST TOO CREATIVE FOR THIS WORLD OMG

yes ofc i can!! and tysm i appreciate it xx

pairing: neteyam x omaticayan!reader - aged up (23 + 22)

content warnings: sexual content, queues connecting, p-in-v, neteyam being an experienced boi caused he's older and KNOWS his way around the bedroom, slight breeding kink, this ritual is completely fan-made as far as I'm aware!! I'm only following from what this person has written.

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Your feet thudded on the soft dirt floor of the forest as you ran through it, dodging and weaving tree stumps and the smaller animals of your home. The faint smell of sweat hung in the air from the effort, the sound of Neteyam's breath expelling and inhaling in ease, his strong body staying close behind you.

You sped up as you ran past a bend in the path Neteyam had been chasing you through for the past 10 minutes, as a part of the People's mating ritual. It was very traditional and slightly outdated, but with everything you and Neteyam had been through in the war with the Sky People, you wanted to make a big fuss over the mating, to make it special.

Since the time of the First Songs, it was the option for a male and female about to mate to begin The Hunt; a mating ritual in which the female was to run from her partner, until they caught up to each other, where they then mate for life. Again, some would call it silly. But after Neteyam's fierce and horrific encounters with death throughout the war - all you wanted was something to commerate it.

He was gaining on you - drawing closer and closer as you got more tired, legs aching and heavy - anticipation also causing you to decelerate. Neteyam's warrior frame stayed steady compared to your singer's body. While some females chose the path of warriors, healers, hunters, you chose to sing. Singing the words of Eywa was honourable, and made you feel closer to her and the People, but it didn't bless you with the powerful musculature others had developed. It made you feel so guilty during the War, when you had to stay back and sit around worriedly in missions because it was more dangerous for you than useful. You were a liability.

The thoughts were a useless spiral, so you shook them away, right as Neteyam reached you and wrapped his arms around your waist and tackled you to the dirt ground.

"Nete-YAM!" you squealed as you tumbled and he began tickling you.

"Stop!" you breathe-screamed in between giggles.

"What was that? Keep going?" He said, relentless. One of his large hands held both of yours together as he kept going.

"Neteyam! You skxawng!" You screamed again, abs hurting as you panted.

He was also smiling, but he let go of your hands and rose, so he was on his knees as he pulled you up as well. The grin had now softened, his eyes boring into your very soul, every thought, every movement, every heartbeat.

In an unexplained unison, you both reach behind for your queues, eyes still focused on each other with bated breath.

"My Yawne," my beloved, he mumured so quietly you almost couldn't hear him. You both brought the tips of your braids together and watched as they made Tsaheylu.

"Neteyam," you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs, and he gasped, eyes fluttering. He groaned and put his head down on the crook of your neck, heaving.

The swell of everything; his soul mixing with yours in a swirl of heat and love and passion, all blending together in harmony, like the ocean meets the sky and the earth meets the rain. A compliment, a perfect fit.

You lightly grabbed his face, bringing his lips to touch yours, heavy and full of lust.

Neteyam ended up on top of you again, but this time his face was sultry and focused. He kissed your cheek, your neck, your lips, and continued down. He worshipped you. The valley between your now bare breasts, your stomach, your thighs, and the bundle of nerves sitting in between them.

It wasn't like you both were inexperienced in any way. There were stolen moments over the years throughout the chaos of war, a silence in the midst of a storm. It had given you both the opportunity to learn and experiment with each other, which had allowed you to figure out what you liked, and the same for Neteyam. But you couldn't deal with him taking it slow now, not when all you wanted to do was touch every inch of his body, to calm the overwhelming feeling of everything swirling inside you. You knew Neteyam was only going painfully slow because he knew this, and he felt the same.

"Tease," you huffed, grabbing his jaw desperately and kissing him fiercly. He chuckled, kissing you back.

"You want it, do you?" He asked in between kisses. You whined, arching into him.

"Nuh uh," he said, pulling back and going to speak in your ear, his voice and breath in your ear sending shivers down your whole body.

"Use your words," he said, left hand dragging up your torso and breasts, drawing lazy circles that turned you to jelly beneath him.

"I want you inside me, Neteyam," you choke out, just as his hand reaches the wetness between your legs.

"Oh yeah?" He moved his loincloth and your own, positioning his cock right at your entrance, again teasing you even as you clawed at his back and tried to pull him closer to you, craving contact. He resisted.

"Yes. Neteyam- please," you said tremulously.

"Well, since you used your manners..." he brought one of his hands down and guided himself in you, the thickness of him stretching your folds, as he had done many times before, but has never ceased to drive you mad.

He started off painfully slow, moving in and out of your wet cunt. You moaned, planting both hands at the back of his neck so your foreheads were touching.

"Faster," you whispered, and he obliged, pounding in an out of you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your eyes fluttered closed. He was kissing your neck, and you knew you would be left with purple marks on your already blue skin.

Neteyam groaned, a sound that immediately deepend your pleasure, bringing you up higher and higher to reach your peak.

"Come on," he said your name while he moved in you, you writhing and grasping at anything to hold on to.

"That's it, baby. You're almost there, just a little more for me," you mewled and cried out, finally reaching your climax.

The dizzying satisfaction you felt was drawn out as Neteyam sped up to also reach his addictive high, spilling his seed into your dripping pussy.

#avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar fanart #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #fanaura replies #fanaura's freaks #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader

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scribbledghost · 4 months

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Hi, English is not my native language, so I use a translator. Therefore, grammatical errors may be present here.人´∀｀)I would like to request from you a hedcanon or something more real (at your discretion) Yautja with a female human partner (let them be in a relationship for a long time), for example, at some point he finds out that she is 60% human and 40% Xenomorph.. How will he react? (I'm sorry if this sounds too weird) (I wish she was one of the good hunters in the tribe (´∀｀•))

Oh this is fascinating, I love it! I'm not sure what your native language is, so I hope these translate well for you!

It was purely by accident that you and your Yautja discovered you had Xenomorph DNA.

You had joined him on a hunt, one of many that the two of you had partaken in together.

You worked well together - a wildly successful pair benefitting the entire clan.

However, even the best can make mistakes.

A severe injury had sent the two of you back to Yautja Prime, back to more experienced healers and more qualified technology to help you recover.

As you laid in one of the healing pods, however, the Yautja in charge of your medical state noticed something... alarming.

You were not fully human.

Your mate entered the medbay later to find you quarantined, and was immediately furious. You were alert and talking, so why were you being held prisoner?

The healer then tried to explain to your mate that they discovered you had an "abnormal amount of kainde amedha DNA". To the point where you were only about 60% human.

At first, your mate refused to believe what they were saying. Surely their technology malfunctioned. Surely they were wrong.

He argued for your release to anyone who crossed his path - healers, clan leaders, it didn't matter. You were his mate, and you were human. Anything - or anyone - that said otherwise was lying.

You were still kept prisoner, essentially. As if they were waiting for you to turn against them at any moment.

Once you were tentatively released under the close supervision of your mate, he started working on his own feelings on the matter.

He had come to accept that you were part Xenomorph - the things his species had a seemingly eternal rivalry with. He had come to accept that part of you belonged to the species of creature the Yautja are constantly at war with.

But... you still looked, acted, and sounded human. You're still his mate, still the warrior he fought side-by-side with.

He wrestles with the idea for some time. His wants to protect you, to care for you, to love you. To do anything else goes against his very instincts

You were a skilled hunter, but you had never tried to harm him (or any other Yautja, for that matter).

So... he comes to terms with your spliced DNA. In fact, he tries to convince other Yautja that it's a benefit. Perhaps you are better at hunting kainde amedha because you are partially one yourself.

Either way, your mate is your mate. He is with you no matter what. He will not leave you, and he intends to keep it that way.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #predator x reader #ghost scribbles

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bless-my-demons · 10 months

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Redamancy: Chapter Thirteen

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None except for a cuss word and some tooth-rotting fluff

Notes: Oops, I lied - New Moon timeline has been pushed to the right a bit, I got carried away with this chapter lol this one got me cheesin’ hard. I can’t even wait to post this until my regular time, so enjoy!! (Hopefully I didn’t fuck up the tags - thank you to everyone that’s used the google form!)

Word Count: 2701

Series Masterlist

• March 21st, 2005 • Cullen’s Residence •

Reader

The soothing motion of Carlisle’s car came to a gentle stop that didn’t completely wake me up. But the cold arms reaching under me to lift me from the vehicle certainly did. As he began to lift me, Jasper made sure to secure the hem of my dress for my modesty causing me to smile sleepily at his thoughtfulness.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” He asks quietly, speaking softly into my hairline.

“You.” I blush immediately at my whispered confession, keeping my eyes closed and face buried in his shoulder.

“Mmm, I think I like sleepy Y/n.” He says with a chuckle that rumbles through me.

I finally look up at our surroundings, noticing we’re at his house instead of mine.

“Why-”

“Your mom isn’t expecting us until tomorrow afternoon, normal people don’t make a twenty-four hour drive without sleeping.” Somehow he manages to open the front door without setting me down. “So, you’re going to get some rest while I go for a hunt.”

I blink up at him slowly as he continues his path through his house. I get another day with him? Well, however much is left once his hunger is satiated.

“My siblings are at school, Esme is redecorating with one of her clients, and Carlisle is at the hospital so the house is yours for most of the day.” Jasper explains, walking down the hallway and finally into his room before returning me gently back to solid ground.

His massive king bed is as immaculately made as the first time I saw it and just as inviting. The longer I admire the fluffy black duvet and mountain of pillows, the more aware I am of all the little aches and pains sleeping in the car caused. Not to mention the lingering tenderness of my healing ribs and the other broken parts of me.

Jasper turns me to face his black gaze, “Climb in and get some sleep, Esme stocked the kitchen for you and I’ll be back before you know it.” It comes out almost robotic, but I see that he’s trying - his hunger covers every inch of his face and keeps his body rigid.

“Take your time, I won’t leave without you.” I reassure him with a half smile, especially since I never made that exact promise in the hotel.

He leans in to plant a kiss to my temple before he’s gone with a small breeze and a lingering coolness on my skin as the only signs he was just there. Sighing, I slide the thick drapes closed to stop the morning sun from shining through the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows.

I stop in the doorway to his closet before reaching the bed, contemplating snooping for something more comfortable to sleep in. Would stealing a shirt be too much? We aren’t even dating, but I do have permission to sleep in his bed… the dresser on the far wall tempts me forward. What’s one shirt to a vampire?

Sliding open the middle drawer in search of anything comfier than a dress, a small note card is waiting on top of his neatly folded shirts:

He doesn’t mind one bit.

- A

Christ, this woman thinks of everything. Grinning, I step out of my sundress and pick up a black short sleeve that’s a couple sizes too big. It hits the tops of my thighs, but since I’m home alone - I don’t think twice before climbing into his bed and situating myself for a much needed rest.

Inhaling the scent that’s so distinctly Jasper Hale, sleep finds me easily for the first time in a very long time.

Jasper

She’s in my shirt. In my bed. In my room. My sheets twisted around her legs. My pillows cradling her body. My scent mingling with hers and settling into the walls, the carpet, the bookshelves, the bed, my lungs.

I close my eyes and slowly retreat out of my room, shutting the door almost completely silent and resting my head on the wood.

“You good?” Emmett’s question almost startles me right out of my skin.

I sigh, “That hunt was almost for fucking nothing.” I turn my darkening eyes toward my brother to see surprise sweeping his face.

“You just got back!” He whisper yells with a wide-eyed look, knowing Y/n is asleep.

“She’s-” a low growl gets the better of me and I immediately tamp it down, closing my eyes in concentration.

A chuckle poorly contained slips from my brother and my eyes burst open to give him a deadly glare.

“You got it bad, brother.” He claps my shoulder with one of his massive hands and steers me down the hallway, putting distance between me and my greatest temptation. “You’ve got it so bad.”

Reader

I wake with a yawn and a stretch, relishing in the softness of Jasper’s sheets.

My eyes snap open. Jasper’s sheets.

I’m in Jasper Hale’s bed, wearing his shirt and my underwear and nothing else.

Shooting up into a sitting position, I glance around wildly trying to determine what time it was, but my eyes stop in the corner of his room. Jasper, sitting in a chair reading a book by a dim lamp.

“It’s almost seven, you slept most of the day. How was your nap, darlin’?” Setting his book down on his lap, he meets my gaze with a sly grin before sliding his eyes down my legs. “I see you made yourself comfortable.”

I gasp, “I-I uh-” fumbling for an explanation as to why I’m half-naked in his bed and absolutely failing.

“Sweetheart, it’s alright. A very nice view to come home to, so I guess you could say it’s more than alright.” He stalks forward slowly, light brown eyes holding me in a trance.

I blush deeply at his words and pull the blankets up to my chest, wishing these sheets could swallow me up.

Just then, a knock at the door and Alice pokes her head inside, “Oh good - you’re up! Get decent, everyone is getting together in the living room for movie night!” She finishes with a wink and is gone as fast as she arrived.

Jasper disappears into his closet and re-emerges with a pair of black sweats, setting them in my lap and leaning forward to whisper in my ear, “Can’t have a lady walking around in just my shirt, huh darlin’?”

Watching him duck out of the room so that I can slip on the bottoms, I contemplate making a run for it to put an end to all this teasing. The blush on my cheeks might as well be permanent.

Jasper

Movie night, really? I direct the thought at Edward and watch him throw a bored, pointed look at our scheming sister before leaving.

Alice replies with a grin, tossing me a blanket presumably for Y/n, “Oh hush, I’m just doing my sisterly duty of moving things along.” She floats past us, preparing the rom-com she selected.

“Don’t even look at me.” Rose waves a hand in dismissal as I raise my eyebrows at her, “I want nothing to do with your human.”

“C’mon, babe-” Emmett whines, but stops at the murderous look in his mate’s eyes. He continues anyways with a semi-serious whisper, “It’s the first time in like, forever since he’s even come close to getting any-”

I cut his inappropriate sentence off with a pillow to the face just as Y/n turns the corner into the room.

“Vampires have pillow fights at night?” She asks playfully, scanning the couch for a spot to sit. My clothes are swarming her and it stirs something I thought was long dead in my chest.

“Vampires do a lot of things at-” Emmett teases her, but this time Rosalie is the one to stop him with a smack to his chest.

Shaking my head, I find a spot on the opposite end of the long sectional from Emmett so as to limit the teasing. Embarrassment and a little something else I can’t quite put my finger on flows from her, so I pat the empty space next to me and hold out my hand for her to take. Once she’s settled with her legs tucked against her chest, I turn to ask Alice to press play and find her already giving me a pointed look. I wrap my arm around Y/n and pull her closer to settle against me, my sister smiles self-satisfied before hopping to the couch and starting the movie.

“Relax, sweetheart.” I whisper in her hair and I’m immediately shushed by Rose.

Y/n finally releases the tension in her body about five minutes into the movie and ten minutes after that, her legs are in my lap with the blanket pulled up to her chin.

“Alice, Rose? Can I get your help with opinions for a client?” Esme calls as she walks through the doorway to the garage halfway into the movie. “And Emmett, mind picking up Carlisle after his shift, sweetheart? I took his car this morning.”

All three of my siblings leave the room, Alice tossing me the remote and Emmett not-so-subtly flashing me a wink. He disappears before Y/n could notice and I could throw another pillow.

I feel her nerves ramp up as the house quiets again, I attempt to ground her by sliding a hand around her ankle under the blanket and it immediately has the opposite effect. Turning to her, she’s already watching me with her mouth open ready to say something, but it’s stuck. So my eyes drift to her mouth, lips that have tempted me from day fucking one. I know she sees what I’m fixated on, because her breath hitches and I tighten my grip on her ankle minutely - not to be painful, but a warning.

“Jasper-”

“May I?” I ask zoned in on her lips, unable to even want to hold myself back anymore. A curious Icarus to her solar flame.

She nods in a daze as my fingers trail her chin, but it’s not enough. “Words, darlin’. I need you to-”

But she’s leaning forward with a whisper, “Yes, Jasper.”

I swear time stops as a buzzing drowns my ears. Breaths puff from her beautiful lips in short spurts, anticipation oozes from her. I have to take a few seconds to collect myself, my mind running rampant.

I slide my hand around to cradle the back of her head and tilt it backwards, the tv casting a warm glow on her face. A shiver wracks through her and I tense, “Do not move.” The request is more of an order and she obeys instantly.

Leaning forward, her warm breath fans across my face before it stops with a sharp inhale. The only sound is her pounding heart and I swear it stutters as I gently meet her lips with mine.

Burning. This burning feeling starts where my lips tangle with hers and it travels down my throat to grip my rock-solid heart in a painful squeeze. Her mouth is warm and pliant where mine is cold and unyielding. Her nose is pressed against mine like a puzzle piece I’ve been missing. It’s absolutely bliss, her lips molding to mine, better than any indulgence I could possibly think up. Her quickening heart rate reminds me to reluctantly retreat - humans and their need for air.

I separate just barely from her mouth and she sucks in a gasp that tears my soul from my chest making me want to dive right back in. Opening my eyes to make sure this is in fact reality, hers are still lightly shut, bliss emanating from every single pore.

How on earth do I go about my day now? Knowing this perfection exists? She’s human, I can’t very well spend eternity kissing her here on this couch.

My groan causes her eyes to flash open and I notice they’re completely dilated, a dangerous observation for my control.

“Are you? I-I mean, did you not-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” My voice comes out huskier than I’d like and instantly she relaxes in my grip.

I push back a single strand of hair that blew across her face as I let out a long breath, barely an inch of space between us still. My willpower is at an all time low as we continue to stare at each other in somewhat surprise.

“Jaz?”

“Yes, darlin’?” I’m utterly raptured by her, firmly ensnared by this gorgeous girl - even more so than the moment I met her.

“Can… Can I?” Her question is open and tentative, but I can tell exactly what she wants and I’ll be damned if I don’t give it to her.

“Anything you want, it’s yours sweetheart.” It’s my turn to hold still, to wait patiently for her to come to me.

Reader

Holy fucking shit.

This without a doubt is what it’s like to have an addiction at first taste. Jasper Hale just kissed me and I’m about to kiss him, again.

I lean forward and smooth my hands up his chest to the base of his head, my fingers finding the short ringlets that hide under the bulk of his beautiful blonde hair. He’s deathly still with his eyes closed, allowing me to take the lead - but I also know this is a tricky situation with his control.

My nose bumps his as my eyes flutter closed and it’s his turn to elicit a sharp inhale. Nerves begin to flood my throat with cotton, but they’re gone almost as quickly, Jasper wiping them away with probably half a thought.

I closed the minuscule gap and my lips brush his a little deeper this time, relishing in the temperature difference. Kissing Jasper is in a category of its own, gone are the days I’ll ever settle for the warm mouth of any plain boy ever again.

Opening my lips enough to snake my tongue out for just a taste-

Suddenly there’s a couch-worth of separation between us and both of us are gasping for air like we’ve just run a marathon. His eyes are wide and wild, a darker brown than I distinctly remember a few moments ago.

“I-I’m so sorry,” his voice is strained and his hands are digging through his hair roughly, “Forgive me, darlin’-”

He fumbles at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing with no sound. Immediately I feel terrible because I pushed a boundary he wasn’t ready for.

“Jasper, please-I messed up and I’m so sorry.” I plead from my spot, scared to go and comfort him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I should have my shit together-” but I stop his panicked apology.

“Look at me, please.” His eyes snap to mine at the request. I scoot closer to him slowly, stopping just within arms reach so as not to invade his personal space. “Can you close your eyes and just, feel with me?”

He takes half a second of hesitation before trusting me, his dark eyes snapping closed with a furrow in his brow. Taking a deep breath, I close my own and focus on exuding positive energy. Calm, content, tranquil - my mind running over any remotely helpful feeling to settle his inner turmoil. After a few moments of the impromptu meditation session, I open my eyes feeling much more relaxed. Staring back at me is the face of a much calmer, but shocked man.

“Did that work? I wasn’t sure, but-”

“You… No one has ever done something like that-darlin’.” Once again I’ve rendered him speechless and it brings a smile to my lips.

“Get used to it Hale, you’re stuck with me now.” I tell him, smug.

“Is that so?” He pulls me closer to him with a grin on his lips, the joy in my chest causing a laugh to burst from me as I toss my head back.

There isn’t a single place I’d rather be than his arms and I’m so glad he’s constantly opening pieces of himself up to let me worm my way inside.

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#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale #female reader insert #jasper hale x female!reader #jasper hale twilight

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jesterwriting · 7 months

Text

characters: sanji x vampire!gn!reader

contents: handjobs, bottom sanji, blood drinking gone sexual, reader is slightly animalistic from hunger, sanji is always happy to provide a meal, medically inaccurate, not proofread

word count: 1.5k words

note: i got vampire brainrot at 3 am last night. that is all.

playlist: tear you apart - she wants revenge

Hungry.

You were painfully hungry.

Your stomach clenched, growling so loud, you were sure it would wake the crew. Though your heart no longer beat, you couldn’t help the fear that coursed through your veins at the thought. The last thing you needed was one of your friends coming across you when you were starving, slathering like an animal as you paced on deck in the dead of night.

Everything hurt. Your instincts were going haywire with the all encompassing desire to feed; to sink your claws into whatever living creature who dared cross your path and bleed them dry.

The new moon hung overhead and the deck was bathed in shadows. Your sight was not hindered by the lack of light, pupils dilated so large your eyes were sure to be a sea of black. Stalking forward, your footsteps faltered when you heard a sound from the kitchen.

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Your lips pulled back in a snarl as saliva pooled in your mouth. It was a lone heartbeat, pumping liters of fresh blood through the veins of a silly little human who was up too late for their own good.

Your world was bathed in shades of gray. The varnish of the wood at your feet seemed to be etched in silver. Night vision was not only practical, but beautiful. If you weren’t so damn hungry, you would take a moment to appreciate it.

Opening your mouth, you scented the air. You recoiled when the sour, but familiar, taste of cigarettes hit the back of your throat.

You knew who was waiting for you in the kitchen. The one whose heartbeat called to you, sang to you, begged to be devoured. Your hands shook at your sides, the door to the kitchen growing closer as your feet moved of their own accord. The rational side of you screamed at you to leave, to lock yourself in your room until morning where you would land on an island and finally restock your blood supply. The animal side of you, however, was never one to give up on a meal.

You loved your friends, they were like family to you. Not once did they make you feel guilt for your dietary needs, nor did they make you feel like a monster. Now, as you ran your tongue over your fangs, you wished they were scared of you. The desire to hunt was buried deep in your very marrow, muscles clenched tightly in preparation to pounce as you turned the knob. You dreamed of the sensation of sinking your teeth into soft, prone flesh. Warm with life, so different from your own.

Light blinded you for a second. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, before Sanji’s figure drew your eye. He was hunched over the sink, staring out of the porthole.

You could smell him from here. What would his blood taste like, you wondered. Rich, meaty, or floral. Your fingers twitched in anticipation, clawed nails grazed the flesh of your palm. Sanji still hadn’t noticed you, too caught up in his own thoughts to see your approach. Every squeaky board on the ship was memorized in the back of your head. It was almost a dance: step, turn, dip, step again, as you quietly stalked toward the ship’s cook.

You could see the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sanji whipped around, revealing an ashtray with a still smoking cigarette resting in it.

“Y/N?”

The acrid stench of fear filled the room, if only for a moment, before Sanji relaxed. You met his eyes and mimicked his stance, mouth open slightly to taste the air. He was so close, you could practically taste him. It wasn’t until you heard a loud ‘plop,’ did you realize you were drooling.

Concern flitted over his face as Sanji drew closer to you. He was so warm, smelled so delectable, it took all of your self control to keep from pouncing on him and draining him dry. You gripped the counter so hard it cracked.

The noise caused Sanji’s expression to jump. Gently, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry,” You ground out.

You didn’t realize he had removed his coat until the top few buttons of his dress shirt were loose. Sanji tilted his head to the side to reveal the pale column of his throat. You swallowed hard.

“So eat.”

Hands shaking, you struggled to contain yourself as you approached him. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I trust you,” Sanji said, as if you weren’t a monster, drooling at the sight of him.

You trailed your fingers down his cheek and along his jaw, watching a trail goosebumps well in their wake. He trembled under your grasp, but there was no longer the scent fear in the air. Sanji was telling the truth, he really trusted you.

Breath shaky, you brought your lips to his jugular. “Kick me if you feel faint.”

“I won’t have to do that.”

The scent of him was driving you mad. Unable to control yourself any longer, you sank your fangs into his tender flesh. Sanji let out a gasp and brought his hand to cup the back of your head as you started to suck. Your fingers tangled in his hair to drag him closer to you. He tasted heavenly and floral. Almost like rose water, but richer, the barest hint of iron tickling the back of your throat. You moaned, sending vibrations against his skin as you drank from him, desperate to fill yourself with as much of him as you could.

Sanji’s whimpered as your tongue darted out to caress him, the pink muscle leaving a sticky trail of saliva as your feast grew sloppier. You wanted more of him, from flesh, to bone, to marrow, devouring him whole until nothing was left behind. Sanji’s sweat was salty. It only added to the bouquet of flavors you were indulging in. Gently, you stroked his face with your free hand, a silent praise of how good he was being for you. With a breathy gasp, Sanji tilted his head back, eyelashes fluttering against your palm.

“Taste good, love?” You tried not to focus on how his voice hitched when your lips suctioned against his jugular. An insatiable heat pooled in your gut.

You responded by placing an open mouthed kiss to his skin. He shivered under your lips. He could feel you smirk as you dragged your hand down his chest and along his hip to his crotch where you met the hard bulge in his slacks. Your fingers were gentle, toying with him.

“Say the word and I stop,” You muttered.

Sanji bucked into your palm. “Please, don’t stop.”

Expertly, you unbuttoned his pants and slipped your hand under his waistline. His cock throbbed when you gripped him, a small moan falling from Sanji’s lips and into the air where you could taste his arousal. He was hot, almost too hot, against your palm. There was a small part of you that was worried your naturally frigid body temperature would be a turn off for him, but he seemed to be enjoying it if his desperate thrusts into your hand were any indication. You spread precum down his cock until he was slick enough for your hand to glide along the length of him. He whined when your thumb brushed over the head, only for the noise to cut short when you suckled the sensitive skin of his throat. Your sharp fangs lightly nipped at whatever inch of skin you could find.

He was delicious, pliant and soft under you. What you wouldn’t give to have Sanji moaning like this every night. With the taste of roses on your lips, you sped up your ministrations, moving on from lazy flicks of your wrist to rapid strokes that met the speed of his thrusts. He was shuddering as he panted, the noise so hot you could barely stand it. What was once feeding became a trail of hickies along his collarbone. You could feel his body tense, Sanji’s grip in your hair tightening.

“F-Fuck, I’m cumming,” Was the only warning you got before he spurt hot ropes of cum against your fingers and into the fabric of his underwear.

You continued to stroke him, giggling as he twitched in your arms, before removing your hand from his now soft cock. Full for the first time in days, you lapped at Sanji’s wound until it closed. Healing spit was one of the few benefits of being a vampire, aside from enhanced strength and speed. You pulled away and wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smearing blood and semen across the bottom half of your face. Sanji stared down at you as if you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, even as filthy as you were.

He stumbled, and you took great care to slowly bring him to a sitting position on the floor. “You’re probably lightheaded, I drank a lot.”

Somewhat pale, Sanji met your worried gaze with a smile. “Nonsense, my angel, Next time you're hungry, feel free to seek me out. I am a meal made for you to enjoy.”

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #.jesterwrites

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

The Taste of Love (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Vampire!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Some Fluff | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: Every handful of centuries, Minho found himself someone that was willing to let him feed off of them. It usually wasn’t planned, it sort of just happened. This time, that person was you, the baker that had just moved into town. He wanted nothing more than to have a taste of you, in more ways than one. Warnings: Minho’s POV · blood (duh) · vampire shenanigans (good ol’ blood sucking) · reader is implied to be chubby, but there’s not that much focus on it · possibly inaccurate mediaeval terminology · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: will i ever get tired of vampire!minho? no, i won’t. this is all just some monsterfuckery, as usual. don’t look at me 🫣 special thanks to @comet-falls for reading this before anyone else and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: implied/referenced sexual acts · some sort of bloodplay, but this is a vampire fic, what did you expect? · explicit oral (F.Rec)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Ever since Minho was turned, he’d had trouble dealing with his feedings.

For long periods of time, he’d settled on a vegetarian diet, hunting deer, or moose, or any possible animal he could find in the woods. Every couple of centuries, though, he’d be lucky enough to find someone fucked up in the head enough to let him feed off of them. It was something he tended to avoid, because he’d inevitably grow attached, and getting attached to someone that aged and eventually died was something that took an immense toll on the tiny bit of humanity that was left in him.

Sometimes, though, it was unavoidable. Or, at least, it felt like it to him.

The first time you crossed his path was during the very early morning, way before the sun rose in the horizon. Minho had just fed, he’d had so much the poor cow didn’t even make it. He was seemingly satisfied enough to go on for a few days without any more of his crimson sustenance, but the second you walked past him, his mouth went dry.

What an intoxicating scent, you had… Enough to cloud his reason completely, enough to make him turn around and walk after you–discreetly, of course. If years and years living in hiding had taught him anything, it was the art of discretion.

Minho knew it was wrong. That what he was doing was beyond creepy and immoral, but he needed to know who you were, he just did. So he followed you until you made it to a building, a new bakery that had settled in town just last week.

Soon after, the smell of baked goods started to emanate from the building’s chimney. It was pleasant, but nothing compared to the smell of you.

Minho left the place shortly after that, right before the sun started to show his head in the sky, and, as he walked the familiar paths to his manor in the outskirts of the town, he figured it was time for him to open himself up again. Now, it was just a matter of courting you, in hopes that you’d give him the time of day.

Trying to get someone’s attention while being a creature of the night wasn’t exactly easy. That was something Minho quickly came to find out after he turned. Which was why, the only times he was able to see you was either in the early morning when you went to your bakery and started preparing your goods, or in the late evening when you finally closed shop and made your way home.

The first time he tried to approach you, a friend of yours suddenly came out of nowhere, and Minho, admittedly, felt a bit shy, so he decided to try some other time. He’d lived for centuries, he was stronger, more dexterous than any human, and somehow he still felt uncomfortable around strangers sometimes. He often called this curse of introversion the remnants of his humanity.

He continued to try, though. He was persistent, but each attempt always failed. To this day, he found it both amusing and mortifying that the evening he finally got to meet you, to actually speak to you, was also the one he made a fool of himself. What was all vampiric dexterity worth for if he was still able to trip over his feet and fall face first to the ground?

Thankfully for him, you had quite the sense of humour, and his mishap simply made you laugh and offer your hand to help him to his feet. Your reaction made it so Minho didn’t feel half as embarrassed as he usually would, so it was easy for him to recover and start chatting you up.

After getting acquainted with you, Minho reached the same dilemma he always had in situations like these… He wanted you. Not only that delicious nectar that flowed through your veins, but also everything that laid under your clothes, and, most of all, your company.

He knew he had to reveal his true self to you, and if you wanted him back, vampirism and all, it’d all be smooth and dandy. However, if you didn’t, he’d have to make a choice… Respect your decision and leave you alone forever, or do as many of his peers did, to give into his instincts, drink you up, erase your memory, and carry on with his life as if nothing had happened.

When he had been recently turned, Minho didn’t even entertain the possibility of taking someone’s blood without their consent, but, after having lived as long as he had, morality was a concept that seemed to shift and drift into a muddier construct. He’d always thought that, if he ever did something like that, then that’d be the moment he’d known that tiny bit of humanity in him had left him completely.

Luckily, when he did gather the courage to tell you the truth, even if you had been a bit shaken at first, you clearly liked him enough not to care about it. If anything, you were immensely curious about it all. ‘How old are you then?’, ‘Were things as bad back then as they said?’, ‘Did it hurt?’, ‘Does it hurt now?’

Minho answered any and every question you had for him, as honestly as he could–although, ometimes, he believed that if he was too honest or too straightforward he’d scare you off. ‘I’m really old’, ‘They were even worse’, ‘It did hurt. A lot…’, ‘It does not hurt as much anymore. Only when I am hit by sunlight or when I have not fed in a long time…’

When you inquired about his feedings, he simply told you of his vegetarian diet. He didn’t want to go too deep into it. You didn’t need to know which animals he drank from, nor how his vegetarian diet made it so he had to feed at least once a week, as opposed to how human blood would keep him satisfied for a whole month.

He decided not to ask you to let him feed off of you just yet… Just like it happened when he wanted to tell you about his vampirism, he was also apprehensive of asking you to become his main source of sustenance.

After all, to Minho, not only did it feel like a major commitment, but, also, you could very well push him away due to the proposition, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. Although, losing you now was something he couldn’t afford. He was too used to walking you to your bakery in the very early morning, to spending evenings talking with you…

Regardless of his very obvious attraction, he genuinely enjoyed your company, and this was probably the most understood he’d felt after a long, long time. And also, to him, it felt like you were enjoying his company, too.

The first time Minho kissed you, it had been a spur of the moment thing. He was notorious for overthinking these things, for wanting the situation to be absolutely perfect, but you just smelt so good, and you looked so cute, and your heart was beating so fast in your chest there was no way he could’ve stopped the words from coming out of his mouth.

‘I really want to kiss you…’

Lame, basic, completely void of flourish or romanticism… But your heartbeat still quickened, he could hear your blood rushing through your veins, all the way to the utmost sensitive areas of your body. For a brief moment, he wished you could feel that reaction in him, too. He was certainly feeling it–or, at least, something akin to it, even when his body had long since been incapable of showing it.

‘Are you sure? I am no longer chaste…’

How ludicrous. As if something as trivial as that mattered to him. He’d lived for so long, he’d realised chastity was on its own a ridiculous concept. Almost no one was chaste after reaching a certain age, either because of the thoughts in their heads or the actual physical implications of the fact. Which was exactly what he told you.

If Minho’d had a working heart, he was sure it would’ve leaped out of his chest the second you pulled him to you for a kiss.

Your lips were soft, warm, they had a faint taste of strawberry–surely from one of your jam-filled pastries–and an undeniable taste of you. As he kissed you, as he held you close to him by the waist, Minho realised he was cursed now.

There was no way he wouldn’t be bound to you after this, after savouring the feeling of your warmth against his body, of your soft flesh under his hands… Things escalated further than he had ever expected that night, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the sight of you, vulnerable, completely bare on his bed, was everything he could’ve ever dreamt of.

Minho knew then that he was ready to spend the next handful of decades with you, for as long as your mortal life lasted, or for as long as you wanted him to.

The first time you brought up the topic of feeding to him, Minho almost didn’t believe his ears.

‘Have you ever thought of feeding off of me, my love? Of drinking me up?’

It was not only the two questions themselves, but also the way you’d asked them, and your overall body language as you did, that made him think he was delirious. You didn’t sound scared, nor disgusted. If anything, there was a lingering curiosity in your tone, and, most importantly, a dangerous tint of sultriness, maybe even arousal, that hung to your every word.

‘Of course I have, my dear. More times than I could ever count…’

Minho had no reservations when he answered your queries. How could he, when you had shown him nothing but acceptance and love throughout these past handful of months? When you seemed to have absolutely no qualms when it came to his monstrous ways?

‘Would you like to do it?’

If he had the ability to, he was sure he would’ve fainted right then and there.

Of course he would like to do it. Scratch that, he would love to do it. There was barely anything he wanted more than to taste the scarlet liquid running through your veins, to have the undeniable taste of your humanity on his tongue.

What was seemingly an innocent walk along the stream in the forest had just turned into, quite possibly, one of the most satisfying feeds he’d had in centuries.

Minho sat on the ground, under one of the many trees that seemed to provide you two with an odd sense of privacy. Odd, because you were pretty much still in an open space.

Interestingly enough, even when Minho was a monster, he was still just as part of nature as you were, and, that night, all that booming life surrounding you in the forest simply protected you both; it let nature take its course.

With you straddling his lap, with one of his hands on the small of your back, and the other on the side of your neck, Minho pressed his lips to your pulse point, almost salivating at the minute thumps of your heart against his skin. You shivered in his hold, keeping your hands on his shoulders to maintain your posture.

“Do not make any sudden movements, darling. I do not want to hurt you…” He mumbled against the fragile skin, humming in satisfaction once you nodded. “If it becomes too much, say it. Or squeeze me if talking is too difficult, alright?”

You hummed, nodding again. Minho seriously hoped he’d be able to stop if you showed any signs of discomfort. He hadn’t had human blood in so long he wasn’t really sure how he’d react. Killing you was a very real possibility, he’d told you already, but you still wanted to go through with this. Being honest, he was just a weak man, incapable of passing up the opportunity when it was so boldly presented to him, even when it could possibly take your life.

So he delayed no further. He located the safest area he could on your neck, one where not too many important veins resided, and after a couple of tentative licks on your skin, his fangs enlarged. He lightly dragged them over your throat, letting you feel not only their presence, but also their sharpness.

“Take a deep breath. Do not move too much”, his voice was barely a whisper, but he knew you heard him clear as day.

As soon as you took that deep breath he’d asked you for, his teeth sank on your flesh, piercing the skin like it was a knife cutting room temperature butter. You didn’t move, but the moan that came out of your mouth was more than indication enough that you’d felt it all.

When your taste flooded his mouth, Minho couldn’t help but moan as well. It was all so much better than he had imagined. His whole body trembled, he felt as if he was burning up from the inside out in the best way possible, and he just closed his eyes to enjoy the taste of you.

What an absolutely delectable taste… So much so he had to remind himself to stop before it was too late. He was sure he had drank a bit too much for comfort, but you didn’t protest, you didn’t move one centimetre out of place, you just let him take as much as his heart desired, either because you trusted him that much, or because you had your own personal gains from this exchange–after all, no one just simply offered themselves to a vampire unless they had their own carnal reasons for it.

After soothing the pair of puncture wounds with his tongue, Minho finally pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes. What he found was your blown pupils, your lips slightly parted as you took in ragged breaths, and even though his fangs were still very much at their full length, you immediately cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a heated kiss.

It was messy, desperate, he was sure there was still some of your blood on his mouth that was now smearing all over yours, and he had to be careful not to hurt you with his teeth, but you didn’t seem to mind or care at all. You just kissed him like you needed him to breathe, and he let you indulge, mostly because he himself wanted nothing more than to have you as close as he possibly could.

Minho was constantly grateful that you’d crossed his path all those months ago, that you decided to move to this specific town in the first place. Not only did you let him drink your blood, but you also brought an irreplaceable spark to his lacklustre immortal life.

He tried not to think too much of the future, of the moment you’d inevitably pass away. There was no point in grieving this far ahead, he needed to remind himself that, yes, it would happen, but there were hopefully still many years before it did.

Enjoying the present was of the utmost importance. Especially when the present was you on his bed, with your legs over his shoulders and his mouth attached to your plump, warm centre.

All the sighs, and moans, and deep breaths, always reminded him you were here, you were his, and that you trusted him. You trusted him enough to bare yourself to him, to move in with him to his previously lonely manor in the outskirts of town, and to let him feed once a month from any area of your body he wanted to.

Feeding off of a human’s neck was usually the most traditional way, but when Minho found a suitable partner, he always liked to get creative. He’d admit there were spots he usually preferred, that he enjoyed much, much more than the neck. The softer the area was, the better. It was always much tastier, especially so once pleasure was coursing through his partner’s veins.

Thankfully for him, you had plenty of those softer, squishier areas, and you also had no reservations when he wanted to sink his teeth in them. He was trying his best not to get ahead of himself. Getting his fangs to their full length when he had his mouth between your legs was incredibly inconvenient, he genuinely didn’t want to hurt you, and he was certain that the sharp tip of his teeth would damage such a sensitive area of your body.

With a hand on your belly, and the other on your thigh, Minho let himself enjoy the taste of your arousal on his tongue. Your grip on his hair was tight, but you made no move to push him away; if anything, you were pulling him further into you, as much as he could be, keeping him there for as long as he’d let you.

Licking his way up to your clit, he sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth, parting his lips enough to flick it with his tongue. The moan of his name that spilled from your lips made his head spin. Your legs trembled with his motions, especially so when he finally brought his hand from your thigh close to your core to spread your juices with two of his digits.

Minho teased you for a bit, dipping just the tip of his fingers into you only to remove them a second after, increasing the pressure and pace of his tongue. At least, he tried to tease you… It was hard to do so when you begged so sweetly from him. Never in his long life had he enjoyed the sound of the word ‘Please’ coming out of someone else’s mouth as much as he did now, even more so when you called him your love, your darling, your heart.

My, my, my… Every time you addressed him as such he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit human again. If he had a working heart, he was sure he’d feel it swell in his chest. Yours, yours, yours… He was yours. For as long as you lived, he’d be yours.

When Minho finally stuffed those two digits within your warmth, the sight of your head falling back against the pillows was enough to let him know it was time. He was thirsty, and he was ready to give in to his primal needs.

He removed his mouth from your skin, but he kept massaging that sweet spot within your walls that had your toes curling with need. “Going to do it now, my love. Hm?”

You nodded. “Please, darling…”

Minho hummed, giving your clit one more affectionate kiss before he replaced his mouth with his thumb. If he could die, you’d be the death of him for sure.

He kept rubbing precise circles on the apex of your thighs, dragging his fingers within your clamping walls. At least, as precisely as he could while he attached his mouth to your soft tummy. Already, his fangs made an appearance, it didn’t take much for them to whenever he knew he was about to puncture your skin. It was second nature at this point.

Sometimes, Minho liked to start with your belly. Yes, start. He’d developed a bit more self control since he started to feed off of you, so he used that to his advantage, to feed off of as many parts of your body as he could.

When his teeth sunk on your flesh, you exhaled a shaky breath. Oh, how sweet you tasted whenever his fingers were on you like this. He could not only smell your arousal, but also taste it on his tongue when he started to drink you up. It was intoxicating, fulfilling, it was absolutely everything to him.

Before he could get carried away, Minho pulled away from your tummy, swiftly reattaching his lips to one of your thighs instead. He repeated the motions, puncturing your skin, drinking your essence, soothing the wounds with his tongue only to move along to the next area.

By the time he was full, you were trembling, whining, begging for your release. So he cleaned the remnants of your blood with the back of his hand before his lips found their way between your legs once again. Minho tried his best to will his fangs to decrease in size, at least enough for his own comfort. At this point, he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t mind, if anything, it’d probably turn you own, but he still wanted to be careful.

As soon as he started to suck on your swollen nub, as soon as the pace of his fingers increased, unintelligible noises of pleasure fell from your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to finally find your release, swearing and saying his name time and time again. Minho loved to feel your warmth around his fingers, especially as it spasmed with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Somehow, it always made him feel even fuller than when he fed.

When he was sure you’d enjoyed as much of your pleasure as you could, he finally removed his fingers, and he simply kissed his way up your body, until his lips finally found yours. You sighed, a content sigh that had him feeling tingly all over, just as you hugged him close to you and pressed tired kisses on his lips.

“Feeling fine, my dear?” Minho mumbled between kisses, relishing the fast pace of your heart against his chest.

“Mm… Just a bit lightheaded”, you mumbled back, dragging your fingers through his hair, making him shiver.

After a few minutes of kissing, of reassuring words against the other’s skin, Minho pulled himself away from your tight hug so he could fetch you some food. It was important for you to replenish your body, the healthier you were, the more he’d be able to feed, but most importantly, the longer you’d live.

As he fed you your meal, as he engaged in conversation with you, Minho reminded himself once again how important it was to live in the present, to not worry about the impending future of your relationship. You were on his bed, laughing, smiling, joking about how he’d almost made you a colander tonight, telling him story after story of odd encounters you had with your customers, and, for now, that was more than enough for him.

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