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#here I hope the vampire inside eats you'
kitten4sannie · 3 months
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ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ
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ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ/ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ ᴅᴇɴɪᴀʟ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ
pairing: vampire lord! seonghwa x human! reader (fem) feat. a two second cameo from vampire! san
genre: abo, kinda historical (think guilded era vibe but vampires and humans coexisting kinda), smut
summary: you decide to play with your master’s feelings during the annual masquerade ball held between vampires and occasionally their human counterparts.
w.c: 2.5k
warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of blood, general vampirism/hierarchies, dom! seonghwa, bratty! reader fucks around and finds out, dirty talk, ownership kink, exhibitionism/voyeurism, praise/degradation, possessiveness, pet names/name calling, manhandling, blood drinking, groping, rough blowjob, spit mentions, fingering, orgasm denial, facial, cum eating, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, l bombs
a/n: im obsessed with the idea of criminally insane cunty vampires so i sat hunched over like a damn shrimp and typed up a storm tyvm. also !!! this fic is dedicated to my dear friend orion @pluvialorion ilysmmmm ughh i hope you enjoy >< <33
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“Those two are always up to something, I swear. It’s so  troublesome,” one old age vampire muttered, complaining about you and your vampire Master to the person standing besides her outside of the ballroom circle. She adjusted her masquerade mask, put off by the sight of you downing a glass full of expensive wine. “Why the council ever decided to allow humans to attend our annual blood balls is beyond me.” 
“They always cause a scene,” the other old age vampire agreed, turning his head to watch as you whimsically made your way across the dance floor in your heavy laced dress, taking the hand of any vampire that wanted to dance with you, while your Master watched from the side with growing annoyance. “It’s unsightly.” 
“Yes, it’s completely inappropriate, the way they act like they’re the main characters inside some overdone fictional novel,” she scoffed, the vampiress getting herself worked up over nothing, her fingers clenching around her own wine glass filled with a blood blend. 
“You hit the nail on the head,” the man nodded, one hand on his hip, the other tilting his wine glass back to drink down its bloody contents, watching you trade one dance partner for another, surprised that you were letting a new age vampire get so handsy with you. “Oh, here we go.” 
Seonghwa reached up to brush at his flowy raven hair in a frustrated manner, his furrowed brows and scrunched-up face not doing much to dispel your current goal in pissing off your Master in hopes that he would chase you across the castle grounds and fuck you into oblivion. “You’re asking for it, little lamb…” he mumbled to himself, the bright red hue in his eyes growing brighter by the second. 
“I didn’t realize you were interested in me, Miss Y/N. Care to forget about your sour, old age counterpart over there and spend the night with me?” the charming, feline-like vampire you were using whispered into your ear, holding your body impossibly close to his as you both slowly rotated together in timed circles according to the flow of the orchestra music that was playing throughout the large ballroom. 
“Oh, Mr. Choi, try not to puff out your chest just yet,” you murmured back with faux pity, clasping your fingers around his cheeks, feeling his fingers inch closer and closer to your ass, able to feel the fiery gaze of your lover from afar. “You’re simply a puppet for my amusement.”
The vampire scoffed, still finding it inside himself to twirl you around and bring you back into his arms, his fingers clasping around your waist a little tighter than before, clearly irritated. “That’s quite rude of you, human. You could’ve lied.” 
“Does it matter? I’m not trying to impress you,” you huffed, eyeing Seonghwa out of the corner of your vision, noticing the way he clutched the edge of the aged mahogany table being used to showcase various blood-filled desserts. Just as the vampire was about to speak up, you shook your head, silencing him. “Just hurry up and grab my ass, will you? And grab it hard. I want Seonghwa to–Oh!”
The peeved vampire did indeed get a handful, his fingers sinking deep into your squishy flesh through your dress, leaning over your shoulder to make eye contact with Seonghwa, who was fuming, still having the gall to stick his tongue out at him. 
An intoxicating mix of anger and arousal coursed through Seonghwa to the point that it all spilled out of him at once, resulting in a short, aggressive shout, the other patrons looking over their own shoulders to see what was going on. Sadly, they weren’t very surprised to watch him lift up the side of the heavy dessert table and toss it across the room with a frightening amount of ease, narrowly missing the heads of the orchestra members. 
You let go of San who quickly scampered away, not wanting to feel the vampire lord’s intense wrath. You, however, took pride in seeing the way your lover was seething, how he pierced you with his dark crimson eyes and delightfully suffocating pheromones alone, his white, elongated fangs already on display for you, knowing he wished he could just sink them directly into the most delicate parts of your body. 
“Why are you so angry, my love?” you called out to him with faux naivety, giving him a pout, motioning to the mess that had spilled onto the sheer marble floor. “You ruined all those lovely desserts.” 
“And almost took the head off of a violin player, but I digress,” the older vampire from before murmured to her friend, the both of them chortling softly to themselves. 
“Oh, you know what you’ve done, darling,” Seonghwa tsked from across the room, taking slow, deliberate steps in your direction, his high-heeled shoes clacking lightly against the pristine floor, most of the other patrons stepping out of his way. “I have a question for you. Do you know what happens to pretty things that disobey their Masters?” 
You brought your hand up to lift off your masquerade mask just in time for Seonghwa to stand directly in front of you, his lean, elegant frame towering over yours. “I’m unaware of the answer, dearest. Do pray tell.” Your face twisted into something that could only be described as smug. Seonghwa wanted to wipe that expression off your face and turn it into something more worthwhile — flushed, contorted with a lovely mix of pain and pleasure, and painted in his cum.
“They get punished, my sweet. So, I suggest you hike up that lovely dress I bought you and get to running.” 
࿏࿏࿏
There was something so exhilarating about having the love of your life chase after you, knocking over furniture and pushing other vampires out of the way just to get his hands on you. You would look back occasionally, catching glimpses of the hazy blood-lust in Seonghwa’s eyes, resulting in a fresh wave of slick between your thighs. 
Somewhere along the line, you had ended up in the castle garden, your bare feet hitting the soft grass, having lost your heels during your chaotic trek there. Panting softly, your breath hitting the cold night air, you realized you were surrounded by chipping marble statues of vampires of the past, a maze of blood-red roses covered in thorns surrounding a sleek stone gazebo, and thousands of constellations sitting in the dark sky above you. 
“Caught you, little lamb…” you heard in a deep, gravelly voice, shivers making their way up your spine. Seonghwa took slow steps near you, finding it amusing how you trapped yourself in a corner, his entire being pulsing with sexually-charged aggression. “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You want me to have my way with you, don’t you, sweetheart?”  
Rather than replying verbally, you simply held up the front of your dress, showing off your plump, slicked-up cunt for his viewing pleasure, your lips twisted up into a perverted smile, lust practically emanating from your form. “What do you think, my love? Does my wet cunt give you any hints?” 
Before you knew it, Seonghwa had you pinned to the side of the gazebo, one hand on your shoulder to keep you still with his immense strength and the other underneath your hiked-up skirt, fucking you deep with two agile fingers, not concerned with the occasional passerby, some of them slowing down to witness the titillating sight of a vampire lord punishing his human counterpart.
“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, sweet. Is my poor little lamb already falling apart for me?” he asked with faux pity against your neck, sucking your soft flesh into his mouth to leave a mark, piercing them lightly with his fangs. “Is it because anyone can come by and see the way I have my hand up your skirt and hear the pretty little moans that you’re making for your darling?”
“N-ooo, it’s because it’s you, Seonghwa,” you sighed out softly, a familiar heaviness filling your core until your legs went wobbly, moaning from the feeling of Seonghwa gulping down just enough of your life source to make you pleasantly dizzy, his fingers still slipping in and out of your leaking cunt.
“Mm, it’s a pity though. I wish San knew just how quick I can make your pretty cunt leak all these juices onto me,” he purred against your soft skin, slurping your arousal from his fingers before cupping his palm onto your hot cunt, lightly moving it over your clit, knowing he was pleasuring you just enough to make you squirm, but aware that your much-needed orgasm had faded away due to his control.
He brought his still dripping fingers up to your mouth, pleased that you obediently sucked your own slick off of them, his gaze flitting between your lips and love-struck eyes. “He’ll never see you like this. See the way you need me in every possible way I can have you…”
“It’s only for you to see, my love,” you replied lovingly, pressing your lips onto his, drawing Seonghwa into you like a moth to a blazing flame.
You shared a series of frenzied, heated kisses that consisted too much of tongue, teeth, and fangs, your hand slipping into Seonghwa’s loosened satin trousers to swiftly jerk him off, his abundant pre-cum squishing in between your closed fingers, your quick, unrelenting grip causing him to wobble a bit, the thick edges of his heeled shoes sinking further into the grass below. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, Hwa? You’re so hard for me, throbbing, leaking so much…”
“Fuck–I need you, darling, need you bare for me, need your pretty mouth around my cock,”Seonghwa groaned out onto your lips, nipping at it enough to get a small taste of iron on his own crimson stained ones. Without a word, he tore your dress from your body, pearls falling from your broken necklace and landing around your feet. You gasped. He clasped his hands around your corseted waist, bringing your face near your neck, his lips just barely touching your skin. “On your knees, my love.” 
You melted to the floor, reaching up to hold onto his hips, watching his cock spring out once his pants past his v-line, eventually holding it in front of your drooling mouth. You studied him, your eyes traveling up his shiny, curved length to his pronounced pink head, sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of his pre-cum on your tongue. “It’s so pretty, Hwa…”
“I know it is, sweetheart. Now, open up,” he exhaled softly, slipping his slender fingers into your soft hair to clutch the sides of your head, plugging your mouth up with his thick cock. 
Seonghwa fucked your face so quickly, so sloppily, so desperately, he reached his end in a matter of minutes, bringing you down onto his cock until your nose pressed into his pelvis, feeling your throat contracting around him. “Fuck, you drive me mad, darling…I’m already about to cum….”
It was when he was able to smell the endless slick that dripped out of your needy cunt, that Seonghwa pulled out, rubbing his cockhead across your lips and smearing his pre-cum across your face, ruining the perfect state of your makeup. “You look so pretty, my love, but I know how to make you look even more divine for me…”
“Enlighten me, my dear,” you sighed lovingly, licking the warm saltiness from your lips.
“Watch closely. This is all for you, darling…” Seonghwa gazed down at you with his crimson, hooded eyes, his chest rising and lowering with shallow breaths, using his closed hand to milk his flushed cock, seemingly endless splashes of cum landing onto your face. “Mm, what do you think San would think of you now, little lamb? Think of your lovely face painted with my cum?” 
“He’d think I was a mess,” you mused, licking the bitter milkiness from your swollen lips, opening your mouth to take one last spurt of cum onto your tongue when Seonghwa moaned wantonly, his fingers squeezing near the pinkish tip. “He’d know I’m yours.” 
“My mess, my beautiful darling. Of course he’d know you’re mine. All mine,” Seonghwa sighed dreamily, lowering himself to his knees to pull you in for a deep kiss, your tongues and lips meeting with fervent need. 
“You think he’d enjoy watching you fuck me into ecstasy?” you asked in between heavy breaths and kisses, hooking your thighs around his bare waist, slipping your hands onto the bare skin of his chest past his loose blouse, your fingers grazing his nipples. 
“I’d take off his head, before I’d let him watch the way your cunt stretches open for me,” Seonghwa groaned, groping down your body, rubbing two fingers against your slippery folds, his fangs returning to your neck, this time indulging his instincts and slipping inside you, resulting in soft throes of pleasure from the both of you. “Speaking of, your little cunt needs my cock, doesn’t it? Is that why you’re so wet?” 
“Yes, please, I can’t stand being empty any longer, my love,” you whined to him, your squelching cunt already beginning to clench around his thrusting fingers, wishing his cock was filling you up instead. 
“You won’t be able to cum with just my fingers, will you, darling? Because your lovely body is only accustomed to my cock, isn’t it? Made for it, hm?” Seonghwa continued to tease you with his words, curling his digits inside you, resulting in increasingly heavy moans from his one and only, encouraging him to fuck you faster with them. “Fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me, darling. You’re so good for me…”
“Oh–my god, so close…” 
“Yeah? You want to spill your cum all over me, Y/N? Make a mess of me?” Seonghwa encouraged breathily, his forehead pressed to yours, pressing his lips against yours in between moans. 
“Y–esss…” 
Just as you were about to cum, you were suddenly filled with a devastatingly empty feeling, realizing he had pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking your vast amounts of slick off of them. “N-no, please, Seonghwa, I want to cum…!”
“You’ll have to cum on my cock, sweetheart. Now, be good and take it,” he replied softly, his voice devoid of pity, the ridged edge of his cock hooking onto your clit and making you jolt, before he slipped inside you inch by inch, sending you back into a pleasurable fog. “I’ll breed you until you’re full for me.” 
“So full, I’m so full, darling.” You hooked your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, his lips already attached to your neck again, shuddering against him as he drank down your life-source, his cock offering your cunt a delicious stretch each time he pounded into you. “So good, Hwa, it feels so good…” 
“Because we were made for each other, my love, our souls always intertwined, forever, you’ll always be mine,” Seonghwa reminded you in between pants and soft moans, his raven hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat, love and admiration seeping its way through his lust-struck gaze, kneading his hands into your thighs, your warm, sopping-wet cunt enveloping his cock so tightly, he couldn’t keep himself from unloading wave after wave of his hot cum inside you, so deeply it reached your womb. “Fuck, you’re milking my cock, darling, just take it all, take it all for me…”
You couldn’t say anything, only letting out a near soundless whine, clutching the back of Seonghwa’s head, never breaking eye contact as you experienced what could only be described as pure bliss, your bodies and hearts melting together. “I love you, Seonghwa, so much,” you finally got out, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know,” he replied just as softly, barely caressing your face, like he was afraid you would shatter into a thousand pieces and fall away from his grasp. Seonghwa was completely flushed, his long raven hair now a mess, sticking to his sweaty face, his plush lips a deep red. “Now do you see what you do to me, darling?”
You nuzzled into him, your heart beating against his quiet one, the cool night breeze gracing your warm, joined skin, knowing you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I think I have an idea.”
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littlejuicebox · 2 months
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GINAAA MY GIRL!
Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.
How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.
To have and to hold.
Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!
Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)
Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.
A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.
Word count: 2.3K
-----
“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.
It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.
He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.
It’s horrible.
How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?
Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.
You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.
“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.
“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.
He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.
“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.
You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.
“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.
The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”
“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”
“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“
Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.
“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”
“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.
“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”
“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.
The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.
*
The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.
The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.
Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.
“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”
You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”
Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”
“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.
Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.
Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.
Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.
“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.
“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.
He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”
*
Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.
When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.
“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.
You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.
*
When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.
“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.
“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.
Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.
Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.
“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”
“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”
You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.
*
Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.
“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.
“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”
“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.
“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.
Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?
He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.
“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“
“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.
He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.
When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“
You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.
“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”
Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.
When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.
“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.
You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.
*
Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.
“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”
“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.
“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.
“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.
“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”
And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.
Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months
Text
Title: Vampiric.
Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spiderverse).
Word Count: 1.4k.
TW: Vampire AU, Blood and Violence, Unbalanced Power Dynamic, Predator/Prey Dynamics, Implied Past/Future N0n///C0n, and Obsessive Behavior.
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He came to you in the midnight hours.
You’d learned, by now, to wait for his nightly visits in privacy, to sit on the corner of your bed farthest from your window and listen for the distant sound of claws digging into wood, of a body dragging against stone, of nails scraping against glass as he beckoned you to let him in willingly. Of course, you didn’t, and of course, he didn’t need you to – your bedroom window crashing only a moment after you would’ve reached it, a pair of talon-doting hands wrapping around your windowsill before Miguel hauled himself inside, scarlet blood already dotting the collar of his white undershirt. Clearly, he’d already fed, tonight. His appetite had already been sated, which meant he’d only come to you to wash the taste out of his mouth.
The alternative would’ve been kinder. When he came to you half-starved, you could blame his violence on his hunger, his cruelness on his desperation. Whatever he did tonight would only serve his own twisted sense of entertainment.
He was grinning, too; crimson painted over his lips and dripping from his chin, coating his pointed fangs and spilling onto the fine silk of his tunic. With your back to him, your shoulder pressed into the plain wood of your headboard, you watched from your peripheral as he stepped into your bedroom, letting out a bark of a laugh and arching his back before stiffening, his smile falling in an instant with a sharp, venomous hiss. He didn’t flee or melt into a pile of ash and bone as you’d hoped, but only turned back to your window, catching the wreath of purple and white flowers posted above it on his claws. “Garlic blooms,” he muttered, crushing your wreath in his fist. The ruined flowers were allowed to drift pathetically to the floor, but you forced yourself to look away before they landed. “Trying your hand at botany?”
“Someone told me that garlic was good for keeping away for keeping away unwanted pests, but they must’ve been mistaken.” You didn’t move, didn’t turn, keeping your back straight and your hands wrung together in your lap. It was all you could do to keep your voice steady, to hide how much you wanted to buckle into yourself and beg him to leave. That’d come soon enough, when you were drained of all things good and vital and had only the strength it took to hold yourself. For now, you could play confident. “Tell me, would it be worth the time it’d take to hang a crucifix?”
You felt his weight on the plush of your mattress, your stomach turning as he grew ever-nearer. “I wouldn’t think so. You know how fond I am of holy ground.”
It was true, you did. You’d never be able to forget the night he first cornered you, the hours you spent pinned against the alter of an empty chapel as a beast you’d mistaken for a man buried his teeth in your neck and he forced his body into yours. For as long as he’d tormented you, you’d thought that night would be your final one, that he’d split you open and eat you alive before the sun ever rose, but here you sat, alive and breathing and still completely in the dark as to why he hadn’t devoured you, why he hadn’t left you in the same decrepit state as the rest of his mortal victims – a dried husk, barely a shell of a corpse left in a gutter or alleyway to be found by some poor soul the next morning. Your only guess was that he took more joy in being the ghost that haunted your every waking thought than the beast who would rip you to shreds the moment you stepped into the moonlight, and even then, it was hard to tell which fate was crueler. It was hard to tell if you were glad that he’d shown you mercy, or distraught that he'd chosen to keep you as a plaything, instead.
A bitter taste spread over your tongue. His cold breath fanned over your exposed back, and reflectively, motivated by the same instinct that propels the rabbit to writhe in the fox’s mouth, you tried to stand, to flee Miguel before he thought to bite down. You made it all of half a step before a strong arm caught you by the waist, dragging you back onto your bed and against Miguel’s broad chest. There was a throaty laugh, a flat tongue ran over the curve of your throat, and then, the fox put the rabbit out of its misery and Miguel sunk his fangs into your neck.
It hurt the same way it always hurt. The pain was sharp, hot – searing your veins as he bit into you, drawing a sharp cry from the base of your throat before you could hope to swallow it down. He held you like that for a moment, then another, your body pressed against his and his teeth burrowed in your flesh, before pulling back with a rolling growl, barely giving you time to draw in a ragged inhale before his lips latched onto his fresh puncture marks, his coarse tongue over the twin streams of blood. A thin trail of scarlet slipped past the corner of his mouth, only growing thicker as he nipped at half-healed ‘love bites’ and throbbing bruises too often abused to fade. His hand fell away from your wrist and rose to your collar, finding its way to the base of your throat and catching you in an inescapable grip, holding you steady as he drank from you. Sometimes, he let you fight it, took joy in pinning you down as you shoved and kicked and screamed, but he usually preferred a submissive meal. Tonight, he was clearly in the mood to pretend you were willing prey.
You expected him to leave after he’d drunk his fill, to pull away and slip back out of your bedroom window, but you were not that fortunate. Rather, he sunk lower, burying his teeth in the curve of your shoulder. The impact was dull, just forceful enough to bruise – meant more to mark than to maim. A love bite, in the place of a puncture wound – the former just as painful as the latter. “It’s like wine,” he muttered, the words nearly lost against your skin. You felt his hand on the collar of your nightdress, starting to drag the delicate fabric downward before he lost what little patience he still had. Before you could brace yourself, before you could think to bed him not to, your body was slammed against the wood of your headboard, his fist still wrapped around your neck, his claws still tearing at your clothes. “If I had less control, I would’ve drained you weeks ago.”  His voice in your ear, his hands on your skin. He dropped lower, to your chest, and yet, you never seemed to rid yourself of the awful feeling that he was looming over you, consuming you. “You’re lucky that your blood’s not the only part of you that tastes so—”
“Please.” It was barely a whisper. Without his uncannily keen senses, it could’ve easily been lost underneath the sounds of his lips against your skin, underneath his throaty growls and stifled moans. Still, he raised his head, his scarlet eyes flickering up to meet yours as you went on. “Please, Miguel, not tonight.”
For a moment, he did not move, did not speak. You pictured, in a part of your mind you’d lost control of the day you met him, Miguel burying his talons in your chest, carving out your beating heart and making it so you’d never be able to deny him again, but the blow never came.
A small, teasing smile spread across his crimson-stained lips as he raised his head. He kissed you, the gesture gentle and lingering, before straightening his back and releasing your throat. “Not tonight,” he said, watching as you sunk into yourself. “But soon. I can’t let my amor spend their nights alone for much longer.”
You opened your mouth, but he was already gone – vanishing into the moonlight and leaving you covered in your own blood, shaking in the tatters of your nightdress, and already dreading his next visit.
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nyrandrea · 7 months
Note
You have very good writing and I think you really do comfort fics well! So I was wondering if you could write a fic with Astarion where the Tav he is trying to seduce has like major self esteem issues. Like they kind laugh at his attempts to compliment them. But at first it seems like a joke until he realizes that Tav isn't joking about it and he tries to help them see they are beautiful. (this is one of my fav prompts to give people ngl)
Thank you so much! This is a lovely prompt and I hope I did it some justice! :)
Word Count - 2k
Enjoy!
xxx
As the storm clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, you and your party found yourselves on a desolate, rain-soaked road in the middle of nowhere. The relentless downpour had turned the earth into a sea of mud, and the wind howled like a vengeful spirit. 
Your clothes were soaked through, and faces were etched with exhaustion and desperation. With each step, your boots sank into the muck, making the journey even more arduous. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a menacing reminder that you had to find shelter soon. 
“Ugh, there’s probably some saying about rainbows after the storm and whatnot,” Astarion said, holding a rucksack over his head in a failing attempt to save his hair. “But I’d much rather not be out in the middle of one.” 
“Ah, it’s not so bad, just think of it as a long overdue shower,” Gale said. “And the saying is ‘Don’t fear the storm, for the rainbow is never far behind!’” 
“Oh yes, that’s the one,” the vampire drawled.  “I’ll rest so much better now that you have enlightened me.” 
Amid the pelting rain, you spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. With newfound hope, you quickened your pace and beckoned the others to follow. As you trudged closer, the light revealed itself to be a cozy inn, nestled among ancient trees that shielded it from the worst of the storm. 
“Thank the Gods,” Karlach breathed. “If I got any more drenched, my engine would have snuffed out.” 
“Wouldn’t that solve your problem, then?” Lae’zel snidely chimed in, only to hiss when you elbowed her. 
The inn's windows emitted a warm, inviting glow, and the scent of wood smoke and hearty meals wafted through the air. Your tired body yearned for a meal and a warm bed, mindflayer tadpoles be damned. 
“Have we got enough gold to stay here? I mean, for everyone to have a room?” Shadowheart asked. 
“We should do,” you said, pulling out the team’s shared coin pouch. “I sold that egg we uh... found.” 
“You mean the one we stole after we killed its mother?” Wyll asked, clear disdain lacing his voice. 
“It’s not technically stealing if the target is dead,” Astarion cheerfully chimed in. “Besides, we rescued the other one, didn’t we? One good turn deserves another.” 
Wyll grimaced. “Your idea of virtue is a damn twisted one.” 
“Aw, you love me really,” the vampire teased back. 
“Here we are!” you announced as you reached the inn's doorstep, you were greeted by the innkeeper, whose eyes twinkled with the knowledge that you had nowhere else to go for the night. After taking payment, he ushers you inside, where a crackling fireplace cast a comforting light over the room, he takes your belongings up to your rooms with the help of Wyll and a begrudging Astarion. 
Finding a long wooden table in the corner of the room, the group sat together, their spirits lifted by the fact that they were safe from the fury of the storm outside, at least for one night. The innkeeper, his apron stained with years of hospitality, served you a hearty meal of roasted meats, fresh bread, and stew. 
You listened to the rain's rhythmic drumming on the inn's thatched roof, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for having found refuge in this little hidden haven. With a deep, contended sigh, you tucked into your meal, savouring every bite.
At least, you were trying to. 
“You better eat up,” Astarion teased, lacing his fingers together as he rested his chin upon them to watch you. “Because I plan on doing just that very soon.” 
“Crap,” you mumbled between mouthfuls. “Are you hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” 
“Oh, am I hungry,” he smirked. “Just not for blood.” 
You almost choked, but you masked it well with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t... flirting with you, was he? You had always been bad at picking up signals, not that you received them often. 
‘Nah,’ you thought. He couldn’t be, not when there were so many other better-looking people, at this table alone, that he could choose from. 
“Well, I know you’re not craving my charming banter.” 
“Oh no, something far better.” 
Now you really were at a loss. 
“Do you... need to borrow my hair comb again?” 
“I mean sex, darling.” 
This time you couldn’t hide the choke, but you were more afraid of dying from embarrassment than anything else. 
“What?” 
The deafening silence that had befallen the table was broken by a low whistle from Karlach. 
“The direct approach, I can respect that, mate.” 
“Direct? I’ve been trying to drop hints for weeks now but perhaps a little more serenading is needed,” he looked you up and down with a knowing smile; he had hooked you, now it was time to reel you in. 
“Darling,” Astarion began softly, his voice a gentle caress, “when I look into your eyes, I see galaxies of beauty and depth that defy description. It’s as if the universe itself painted them with the colours of a thousand sunsets.” 
A faint blush tinged your cheeks as you lowered your eyes, unsure of where to look. Astarion reached out and gently lifted your chin, so your eyes met once more. 
“And your smile,” he continued, “it’s like a radiant sunbeam on even the cloudiest day. It has the power to brighten my world in an instant.” 
“Ooh, that’s a good one,” Karlach said, fanning herself. “You’re even making me blush!” 
“Careful, we wouldn’t want you burning any hotter now,” Gale smiled, though it was strained. He looked almost as uncomfortable as you felt. 
“Your kindness,” Astarion went on, “it knows no bounds. You have a heart that’s more expansive than the ocean, and it’s a privilege to be the one you’ve chosen to share it with.” 
“Bah!” Lae’zel practically spat. “These nonsensical attempts at beguiling are a waste of time, why waste your energy talking when you can claim and dominate each other instead?” 
You were hard-pressed to agree with Lae’zel on this one. Well, except maybe for that last part. 
“Alright, you can stop now,” you said. 
“Not until you’re convinced,” Astarion replied, a sly smirk forming on his lips. “How about this? You are a masterpiece in a world of art,” The vampire flamboyantly declared, his gaze unwavering. “Your uniqueness, your quirks, your imperfections – they all make you the incredible person I fell in love with. You’re not just enough; you’re more than I ever dreamed of.” 
You roll your eyes. “Gods, you know you don’t have to keep practising the fancy fake flattery on me, right? I know it’s all like a big joke to you but enough is enough, eh?” 
Astarion finally pulls back and frowns at you, not in that puppy-pout way when he didn’t get what he wanted, but in a way that he looked genuinely offended. 
“You think I’m joking?” 
“I... uh,” you stutter, suddenly flustered.  
“My compliments aren’t fake, darling. Decorative, perhaps, but you do know I mean every word, don’t you?” 
“Pfft,” you try to wave him off nonchalantly, but your quivering voice betrays you. “No, you don’t. It’s... it’s all just a bit of fun, r-right?” 
“Perhaps I should be a bit blunter then,” Astarion said, leaning forward ever so slightly, his expression serious and scarlet eyes piercing into you. “You’re... beautiful.” 
You swear you could feel something just break inside you in that moment.
A tentative smile, like a fragile flower pushing through the cracks of self-doubt, graced your lips, but it wilted in the harsh light of scrutiny. A tight knot formed within your throat as everyone stared at you in anticipation. What were you supposed to say? Thank you? That you were grateful for the shower of compliments from Astarion, this... gorgeous man, because you sure as hell didn’t deserve them? 
“I’m a little tired,” you suddenly say, your chair scraping the floor with a shrill screech as you quickly stand up. “Excuse me.” 
Leaving their concerned calls behind you, you made your way up the stairs of the tavern and into the hallway leading to the rooms. The innkeeper had allocated them, but he’d neglected to say which one was which, so you merely picked the first door you could get your hands on. 
It wasn’t until you slammed the door shut and leaned your back against it that you realised that you picked the wrong bloody one. 
The room was large and luxurious, the centrepiece was an ornate, four-poster bed adorned with rich, crimson drapes that seemed to dance with the flickering candlelight and crisp, white linens, neatly turned down. An old, familiar skull-faced tome laid face up, its amethyst eyes staring ominously at the ceiling. 
It seemed that someone got first dibs on the rooms, and it didn’t take a genius to work out who. 
‘Shit,’ you curse to yourself, scrambling for the doorknob. ‘Maybe I can get out before he-’ 
As soon as you open the door, Astarion is already right there, his hand raised into a fist. 
“Knock-knock?” he says, giving you a tentative smile. 
“S-sorry, must have gotten a little mixed-up.” 
“That’s quite alright, dear,” his tone is too soft for your liking, as if he feared offending you in any way. 
“Right, well,” you strain a smile and edge around him to get to the hallway. “Goodnight.” 
“Wait,” he catches you by the arm. “Come back in, won’t you?” 
You squint at him suspiciously. 
“To talk, darling. Nothing else, not if you don’t want to.” 
Gods know that you wanted to, you were just... surprised that he did. 
As you re-enter the room, you notice a small, antique writing desk nestled by a leaded glass window. A vase of freshly picked wildflowers graced the wooden surface, infusing the room with their sweet fragrance. 
Astarion caught your stare. “Ah, unfortunately I have run out of perfume to mask my er... musk. So, I had to improvise.” 
“It’s nice,” you remark, the tight knot in your throat making it hard to speak. 
“Well, I should hope so. They are your favourite after all, are they not?” 
A surge of guilt jabbed through your chest, you had occasionally stopped on the road to admire the flowers; their colours, their scent was intoxicating to you. Had he been observing you even back then? 
You didn’t know what to say, words were always tempered by hesitation, their resonance dulled by the fear of judgment. Each sentence was punctuated by apologies, as if you believed your very existence owed the world an explanation. Confidence always remained just beyond your reach, an oasis in the desert of your own mind. 
Astarion sat on the bed and patted the empty spot next to him; you silently took the invitation. 
“I would like to... apologise for earlier. Making you uncomfortable was never my intent, I...” he paused, his eyes flickering over you. “I just wasn’t sure how much clearer I could make it to you.” 
“That you... like me?” 
“Like you?” Astarion took your hands and squeezed them. “I adore you. Everything about you, all that you do is... nothing short of breathtaking.” 
Tears welled in your eyes and spilled over your cheeks like the gentlest rain, your trembling shoulders burdened by the weight of your emotions 
“I’m sorry if you don’t hear this enough but... I wish to change that. You really are, truly, beautiful.” 
The tears flowed freely then, your sobs echoing in the stillness of the night. Astarion gathered you in his arms, a silent pillar of support. His hand, cool and reassuring, gently cradled your trembling one, his thumb grazing back and forth over your knuckles. 
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his words a gentle caress. “Let it out, darling.” 
Astarion’s presence felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven in the storm of emotions. He didn’t offer empty platitudes or rushed advice. Instead, he listened, letting you pour your bottled emotions out, allowing it to find solace in his quiet understanding. 
With each tear that fell, Astarion’s touch remained steady, unwavering. 
As the night wore on, you found yourself nestled into his side as you lay together on top of the covers, your head tucked into his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling. He turns his head briefly to kiss your forehead, and in that sacred space, amid the tears and whispered sorrows, you found solace, strength, and perhaps the willingness to accept that, in your own way, you are beautiful. 
xxx
Links to my other Astarion works
Everything's Fine
Restless
Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you
Request - Astarion tries to rescue you from kidnappers
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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months
Text
Cherry Pie Kiss
Slice One
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader
Summary: The pie thief has struck again. You know who it is but how to prove it? The answer is on the tip of his tongue.
Words: ~900
A/N: So this is SPN fic number two. The idea of Dean being such a pie fiend that he would steal someone else's pie from the fridge and deny it afterwards, really amused me. I obviously didn't get the desire to kiss him out of my system after the first SPN fic I wrote so here's another one 😂 It's not smut but there is mild adult themes which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is as generic as I can make but I have referenced as female. I hope you enjoy, and as always, I value your feedback and comments 💖
Warnings: kissing, mild violence, bad language as standard. Dean is an asshole. Reader is a bit of an asshole too. They're probably made for each other.
*** Minors do not read or interact ***
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Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His arrogance, his smug superiority, the way he always acts like he’s untouchable… his goddamn pretty mouth.  Ugh!  Asshole!
You didn’t always hate him – you had known him for years, one hunter to another – but, since you had been forced to stay with both he and Sam in the bunker these last couple of months, he had really grated on your nerves. 
After your hunt of a large nest of vampires had gone wrong, you had become the hunted.  Your home decimated, your family too precious to put at risk by you staying with them; you had needed help.
Sam had insisted, so you agreed to stay with them until your vamp problem could be solved.  Only the nest turned out to be much bigger and far wider spread than you had first thought, and it was taking time for even the infamous Winchester brothers to put an end to.
The light in the refrigerator is stark as you stare inside.  It’s gone.  You slam the door, raging internally.  Why can you not have anything to yourself in this goddamn place?
“DEAN!”  You shout angrily at the top of your lungs, knowing he can hear you from his room down the hall, even with his music playing.
He won’t respond to you.  He never does.  Why should he?  You’re just some girl he’s got to put up with for a while.  Some girl he made a pass at that first week you were here, but you shut him down and he’s been an asshole to you ever since.
You storm up to his door and bray your fist against the wood as hard as you can.  “I know you’re in there!  Get your ass out here now!”  You shout and hammer your fist against the door until you hear him moving inside.
The door clunks as he unlocks it, and it swings open to reveal him stood in the doorway in a navy blue robe and slippers.  The light from his lamp is dim but warm, his music a moderate volume for the late hour.  He looks irritated that you’ve disturbed him, that quizzical frown and pout are a dead giveaway.  Good.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?”  He smirks at you.
“You!”  You push past him, and he doesn’t try to block you.
“What now?”
This isn’t the first time you’ve had this argument and it probably won’t be the last.  Whenever Sam isn’t around, Dean always does something to piss you off, like he’s trying to bait you.
“You ate my pie!  AGAIN!”
His expression is schooled into that self-righteous assuredness it always is when you confront him.  His hands go to his hips – which looks ridiculous because of the robe – and he shifts his weight onto his other foot.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”  He says with a frown, and it’s entirely plausible that you’ve made a mistake, except it’s just the two of you here and you didn’t eat the damn pie.  “I haven’t seen any damn pie.”
“Oh yeah?!”  You square up to him, looking up into his eyes, unblinking, unphased.
“Yeah!”  He doubles down, firmly meeting your stare, leaning closer as if you would be intimidated by that.
It’s a short distance you need to cover and he is unprepared.  You expect him to push you away but he flounders, arms flailing and uncoordinated when you grip the lapels of his robe and pull him towards you.
When your lips meet he puckers up and blinks in shock, but you don’t give him time to realise what’s happening.  You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him tight as you slip your tongue between his lips, plundering his mouth.
It takes a beat, but he responds by gripping your hips and holding you against him, moaning into your mouth as he opens up to you.  The heat of his response takes you by surprise, but it shouldn’t have, really.  He’d wanted this since the first few days you were here.  Wanted you.
You ravage his mouth, your hands in his hair, making it messy as you practically melt into his arms.  His tongue plays perfectly with yours, his lips soft and yielding.  Dean Winchester is an exceptional kisser.  This fact makes you hate him even more.
As you pull back, breathless, Dean grins at you.  He looks happy and care-free, like the cat that got the cream.  Your face, however, holds a scowl.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?”  His expression changes to concern.
You lick your lips and it’s just as you thought, the sweet buttery goodness of pie crust and the pleasant tartness of sour cherry.  You slap him across the face – not hard but just enough to get his attention – and stride to the door leaving him confused.
“What the hell?!”  He rounds on you, his arousal tenting his robe.
“Don’t you dare eat my pie again.”
You leave your warning hanging in the air along with his frustration.  A smirk playing on your lips at the sight you had just left behind you; Dean Winchester with kiss-swollen lips and a hard-on for you.  It isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen but you still hate him, even if there’s now something else there along side it. 
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leighsartworks216 · 8 months
Text
In The Moonlight
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Lowkey wrote this for @niermortem bc the Astarion hyperfixation goes hard
I've never written for Astarion before and I'm still not 100% comfortable with his speech patterns and stuff but I had to write this or I would not be able to sleep tonight. Tbh y'all are lucky he even spoke at all. I was going to have Tav shush him lmao
Warnings: Cazador, mentions of past abuse, mentions of biting, vague implications of sex, like one swear
Word Count: 1,110
Masterlist
AO3
He’s so beautiful, just like this. The moon reaches through the window and caresses his hair, turning already-bright white into pure starlight. His pale skin glows. And when the sun rises and casts beams of yellow-orange over him, it’s almost as if blood flows through him once more.
You cannot sleep. Despite how tired your body was, your mind couldn’t sit still. It pondered over the day’s events - if you made the right choices, what you could have done better, your companions - endlessly spiraling out of sleep’s embrace. And you would still have been going over these questions and concerns, if Astarion did not look so damn pretty.
He fell asleep a while ago. With a gentle kiss to your cheek and a whisper of thanks, he’d tucked one arm under his head and draped the other across your waist, and drifted off. A hint of a smile still lingered there. Creases by his mouth and eyes proving a simple joy that followed him into his dreams.
It felt wrong to watch him like this. Like studying how his curls fell across his forehead and the flicker of his eyes behind his eyelids was in some way betraying his trust. The thought alone - of ruining this beautiful foundation of trust and patience and understanding - should have been enough to have you close your eyes or turn away. And yet, something inside you yearned for more. An ache in your chest that urged you to touch him, to be closer to him.
And the urge was stronger than your perceived guilt.
Slowly, you raised a hand to his face. At first, all you did was brush the curl from his forehead. The stubborn thing only bounced right back.
Your eyes trailed from his hair to his eyebrows. So often did a crease find its way between them, pinched in frustration or confusion. Your hand followed. With the barest brush of your thumb, you smoothed out the imaginary crease. Astarion breathed in deeply - causing you to hold your own - before sighing softly. His face relaxed even more, shoulders easing into the pillows that cushioned him.
You focused next on his eyes. Deep, bloody red irises hidden behind thin lids that held so much worry and uncertainty and joy and hope. Hope. It had taken so long for the vampire to actually be optimistic about the future. He had no idea what would happen next - between Cazador and the tadpoles, there was little to be optimistic about. When you helped him, despite his original plans to manipulate and use you, he realized things did not always have such awful outcomes. Even your first encounter, with his blade to your throat, had somehow brought you here, together and warm and safe.
Despite being an elf, he had such deep bags beneath his eyes. Even the crows feet and laugh lines that appeared with his smile were unusual. He’d told you sparingly about his life under Cazador. The things he fed on, the poem carved into his back, and the horrible things he did. Undoubtedly, the lines came from that time. Barely eating enough to survive, luring people in with his charms for an uncaring master, being tortured in the dark. Yet, you couldn’t imagine Astarion without them. He was so pretty when he smiled.
You move on to his nose and his cheeks. His features are all well defined, sharp. It makes him seem dangerous, even at a first glance. Like a snake, hiding fangs behind shimmering scales.
Beckoned by the analogy, your eyes flicker to his lips. They’re so soft, despite the way he chews his bottom lip. Where before his kisses were rough, demanding, now they’re slow, careful. He no longer kisses you like he has to woo you over and get you to play his game. He kisses you like he’s savoring the last drop of wine. Even his bites are gentler, pricking your neck as carefully as he can unless you ask him nicely to be rougher.
“Too distracted to sleep, are we?”
His voice makes you jolt. You weren’t expecting his lips to move so suddenly. Nor did you realize before how your hand cupped his jaw and your thumb stroked his cheek. You can feel his smile as he chuckles.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he coos. “But don’t you think it’s a bit late to be admiring my features?”
You take a moment to compose yourself, urging your heart to still from the scare. Damn you for thinking so much about his mouth. Astarion is nice enough to wait and listen as you relax once more, though you continue to trace over his skin and brush the curls in front of his ears back.
“I couldn’t sleep. And you look so beautiful in the moonlight.”
He slips his arm from underneath his head as he turns into your hand, holding your wrist in place as he kisses your palm. “I appreciate it, my love. But it’s been a long and exhausting day, and we both need our beauty rest.”
Red eyes watch, half-lidded, as you smile - he loves it just as much as you love his. Before, he couldn’t care less. Now, oh the things he would do to see you happy every waking moment of the rest of your lives.
The blankets shift against each other as you move to be closer. You tuck yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his neck. You are so warm. He lets out a soft breath as he curls around you, protective and safe all at once. Slender fingers tangle carefully into the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping your head tucked away under his chin.
For so long, he charmed and manipulated people. They touched and got close to him, in ways he quickly detached himself from. For so long. It was still difficult to fathom how he sought it out with you. How he did not go through the motions of physical intimacy, how he actually wanted to be physically intimate in more ways than just sexually. How long he’d been deprived of something genuine like this. He wanted to savor every gods-forsaken minute of it.
Your warm breath fanned across his neck as you spoke. Had he been able to, it would have sent a chill down his spine.
“I love you.”
His fingers curl into your waist, grounding himself into your body as your skin gives under his fingertips. In return, you squeeze him in your hold, solidifying even more that this is real. You are real.
“I love you, too, darling.”
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anemptypuddingcup · 7 months
Text
Taming That Demon.
For @kingofthe-egirls
Sanji x Vampire!Reader.
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Contains: !!DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! <- (Somewhat) Dub-con. Minor blood warning. Vampire!Reader. Somewhat bratty & confident Reader. Reader pissing Sanji off. Brat taming. Vaginal and anal sex. Fingering. There’s definitely some edging in here. Degradation. Slight asphyxiation just for a few seconds. Cream-pieeeee~ Slight overstimulation. Really focuses more on Sanji’s anger. Sanji and Reader getting together in the end. A sweet yet abrupt ending. A bit of messy writing?
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You didn’t think such a man was so desperate for a date. You didn’t even know Sanji for that long and he was already asking you out on a date. You were wonderful to him, beautiful in fact. He couldn’t help but to ask you out and make reservations for you both as soon as you both became friends.
You weren’t interested in love from him at all, but it seemed to be worth your time.
During the entirety of the date, he spoke about how alone he was due to his perverted tendencies.
At least he realized that.
But the more you listened to him the more you began to gain and interest in him. From his thick French accent to his wonderful cooking abilities, the blonde man was trying his best to win your cold and dark heart over and into his warm embrace. As he sat there and enjoyed your company, Sanji began to notice how odd you acted. You didn’t order nothing but wine and you looked rather nervous as the minutes passed by.
He tried his best to shake the feeling off, but nothing could possible shake your odd behavior away from him. “Is everything okay love? Are you sure you’re not hungry? All you’ve been doing is drinking wine all night, that’s not good for your empty stomach.” He tells you worrisomely, his eyes soft on your figure show you stared at him with a dead-pan look in the eyes.
“I promise I’m just not hungry cutie~ Tell me more about yourself please love~”
He just couldn’t shake the feeling away.
After the date, his heart pounded for you and yearned for your attention. He hoped that you would go home with him and even if you didn’t take anything beyond the date, just your company was fine for him.
“That dinner was so good! Ah- Why didn’t you eat anything though sweetheart?” He asks, looking deep into your eyes. You turn away from him and blink a bit. “I…I just wasn’t hungry that all~ I keep telling you that sweetheart.” You reassure him, smiling nervously to Sanji. Sanji presses a hand to your shoulder and quirks a brow. “Would you like to eat when we get home then? I can cook something for you~” He asked, looking at you.
You thought about it for a moment. If he’s taking you back to his home, there was a chance that you could finally be fed after a while with no luck. “You’re taking me back with you?” You asked, quirking a brow to the curly-browned man. He turns and smiles softly before taking your hand. “Of course I am, unless if you don’t want to then I’m fine with that sweetie~” He beams, a deep blush dusting his cheeks as stares into your eyes.
You smile softly and waffle your hand with his, your arm wrapping around his waist while he stares down at your pretty figure. “Well, I’m fine with that if you are Sanji~” You hum, smiling to him and hiding your dark intentions.
What an idiot.
Though you’ve never met such a cute gentleman like him before. Not only that but his French accent was pulling you in, he was quite the looker for someone who seemed to be…a pervert. Nonetheless, all you wanted from him was his blood. You just wanted to get your fill and leave, that was it. “Shall we my love? I can’t wait to cook you a nice meal once we get home~ I’m sure you’ll eat something then~” He hums, pulling you along with him.
“I can’t wait to taste your cooking then cutie-pie~” You smile to him, laughing to yourself on the inside. You followed him as he guided you to his home, a small yet pretty house in a dark corner of the street. His hands dug around in his pocket before pulling out his keys and unlocking his door. He opens it and allows you to go in first before he slowly follows behind you.
“This is my home love, I’m hoping you don’t mind sitting on the couch.” He says sweetly to you, scratching his head nervously. You smile to him and walk over to the couch before setting yourself down on the soft cushions below. Sanji follows and sets himself beside you, giving you a sweet look in his eyes before he scoots closer to you. “Y-You’re pretty sweetheart…” He whispers to you, a bit embarrassed at his approach.
You giggle before staring into his eyes, now noticing the strong scent of his cologne along with the nervousness in his eyes. You cup his face with your cold hands, his cheeks burning up and transferring the warmth to your hands. “You’re adorable yourself Sanji, did you want something? A kiss maybe?” You asked, enticing him with your words and pulling him in closer to you. Sanji’s heart pounds and he freeze from your words before blinking blankly to you.
“W-Well- I wasn’t going to force you…I was hoping to get you comfortable first…” He admits, laughing nervously. You chuckle at his kindness before pulling his face closer to yours.
Sanji presses his hand behind your head before pulling you in, pressing his soft lips against your glossy ones. You mewl out as he gives you a soft kiss, his lips feeling like heaven against yours and making your body tremble. You press your hands against his shoulders, gripping them as he bit your bottom lip. You pull away and press smooches against his neck, making him moan out.
“Mhh! S-Sweetie!?” He mewls, sliding his hands up your back. You softly trail your fangs up his soft and pale skin and he shivers. “M-Mgh~ Y-You’re teeth- t-they’re a bit sharp~” He says shakily, pressing his hands up against the back of your neck. You giggle to him before quickly sinking your teeth into his neck, a gasp leaving him before his eyes widens from shock.
It catches him off guard and he felt the sting of the bite as soon as you had bit him. “AH!- F-FUCK-“ He yells out and grips your hair out on instinct, making you moan out suddenly.
He flails around, a few gasps leaving him as he begins to breathe heavily against you. A whimper leaves him as he already felt rather lightheaded, his arms wrapping around your body and surprising you in the process.
“It’s hurts! Fuck! It’s hurts! Get off of me!” He yells, yanking and pulling hard on your dress to the point where it would tear. His hands tears the fabric of your dress while you gripped his shoulders tighter, slurping up all you could before he’d eventually pass out. His grip begins to loosen and his hand slowly slides down your back before he whimpers out. You mewl out and finally remove your fangs and noticed a few tears pricking at his eyes.
You cover your mouth, a little snicker leaving your lips as he held his neck. “W-What the hell!? W-Why’d you- Mhh…” He yells but stops suddenly, his vision beginning to fade and grow blurry. You smile softly to him and move in closer to him, causing him to shoot up from the couch and back away from you. You sit back down on the couch, crossing your legs and looking up at him with a dark glare. He sighs heavily before moaning out in pain, still a bit stunned from the sudden attack.
“Your blood is rather tasty Sanji. I didn’t think yours would taste so rich.” You admit, laying your head in your hand. His curly brows furrowed and he grabs the leftover remains of your dress with one hand before pulling you close. “You almost killed me, you witch!” He scoffs, his eyes looking deep into yours. You giggle to him before pulling his tie, your breasts pressing up against his chest which causes him to blush a bit. “I’m a vampire sweetie pie, see the fangs?” You asked, pointing to your now revealing fangs.
“Y-You- So that’s why you didn’t eat at our date.” He says, now putting his two realizations together. “I prefer blood…Though I don’t mind a sweet dessert here and there~♡” You hum, licking your glossy lips. He turns away from you, gritting his teeth as he felt himself falling deep into your trance. You were a charming young woman. It was too bad that you were a vampire, he would’ve loved to have you and keep you around in his house.
“You need to leave.” He huffs weakly, his hand rubbing his neck wound as his eyes began to lose a bit of color. His neck bleed crimson out onto his palm, staining both his tux and his carpet. He begins to stumble and rock around, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he feels himself growing weak. You tilt your head and smile to him before letting out a chuckle.
“You couldn’t even kick me out without passing out sweetheart.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around him to prevent him from falling onto the floor. He sighs out and presses his hands against your shoulder, trying to use you for balance as he felt himself wobbling around. His bloodstained hand coated your skin, the blood cooling your skin in that one spot.
He looks down at you and bites his bottom lip, pissed at himself that he hadn’t seen your intentions sooner. You flutter your lashes and look up at him. “You’re getting weak Sanji…You should probably sit down…” You warn, sliding your hands beneath his tuxedo. He huffs heavily before pressing his body far against yours, his body trembling against yours while he whines out from weakness. “W-Why’re you still here…? Are you going to finish me off then…?” He asks, struggling to get his words out.
You chuckle and set him onto his couch, crawling onto him and setting yourself into his lap. “I admit, I’ve already grown on to you…You’re a handsome young man~” You compliment him, your hands cupping his face once more. The weakness in his face made a fire start up in your lower tummy, as if he wasn’t pretty enough from the get-go. His pretty blue eyes stared up into yours before he sighs out.
He’s a goddamn fool.
How could he let this happen to himself in his own home…? Maybe if he was more cautious and stopped letting women walk all over him, maybe he would’ve seen through you at least a little bit…but it was just something about you and it wasn’t because you were a vampire.
You lick your lips and smiled at him, your cunt beginning to soak your panties from the arousal brewing up. His face was turning you on, god his fucking face. His weak and pale face just made your body heat up and shudder against his. “Fuck you’re such a handsome man, I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself contained.” You gasp out shakily, sticking your thin tongue out at him. He stares at you with dark eyes and his hands press up against your shoulders.
“Y-You…You goddamn...” He huffs, his hands trembling against your skin, unable to finish his sentence due to the weakness spreading throughout his body. His head drops down and a bit of sweat falls from his face as he breathes heavily, struggling to keep himself composed from a loss of blood. You laugh at him and pepper a smooch to his sticky forehead, sitting him back up and lying him back onto the couch. “You should save your breath sweetie.” You whisper to him before giggling.
You softly grind your cunt against his slacks and he groans out, unable to really do much while you slide your slutty cunt against his growing erection. You feel him grow hard beneath you and you hum before licking your lips, sliding your tongue across your fangs. “You can’t help but to get like this when a woman’s on top of you, can you Sanji?~” You tease him, sliding your fingers along his belt before unbuckling it. He mewls out softly, his brows quivering slightly along with his lips.
You giggle and unbutton his slacks, your heart beginning to pound as you began to yearn for his cock. You pulls his slacks and briefs down slightly and his cock pops out, the cold air hitting his tip making him gasp out suddenly. You hum in arousal before stroking his cock, feeling every detail of his length before you pull his slacks and briefs down a bit more.
“Such an adorable cock you have Sanji, and it’s pretty long too~” You mewl, jerking his cock off while he sat there and began moaning out. His legs shuddered as your soft hand stroked his cock, his moans spilling from his softly lips while his face begins to scrunch up from the pleasure. “F-Fuck~” He curses to himself as he softly yet weakly bucks his hips up into your hand. You suddenly stop and he whines out, wanting to gain some type of friction.
You giggle at his displeased expression before sliding your panties out of the way, holding his cock in place before slowing sliding down on it. The sudden feeling of your pussy enveloping his cock causes him to gasp out, your tight walls sucking his length in. You mewl out as his length kisses your cervix, filling you up more than it needed to. You slowly begin to move your hips, a few gasps leaving both you and Sanji.
Sanji weakly places his hands against your hips and sighs out as you began to bounce on his cock. You moan out as you felt his soft hands a rub up against your skin, a sigh leaving your lips as you began to move a bit faster. Your breasts begins to bounce and you press them up against Sanji’s face, his body beginning to burn up as his eyes began to roll up from the pleasure and the soft feeling of your breasts.
“Hehe~ Look at you~ You’re so adorable aren’t you?” You chuckles to him, cupping his face while your breasts lie against the lower half of his face. “How do my breasts feel against your face? I can feel your face burning up against my skin~” You hum, a soft moan leaving you as you continue to bounce on his cock.
Sanji didn’t know how to feel about this altercation…He enjoyed the feeling of your breasts up against his face, your soft skin causing him to huff out heavily. The feeling of your pussy around his length only made everything better.
But part of him couldn’t help but to feel offended with your teasing…
“M-Mhh!~ Your cock is so wonderful~ I wonder why you haven’t been able to grab a date recently, is it because you’re such a lousy and perverted man?~ Hmm?~” You ask, your hand combing through his pretty blonde locks. A sudden soft and pale hand grips your wrist and his crispy blue eyes glares up into yours with anger.
He’s just about had it with your shit-
Your eyes widen and you gasp out from his sudden movement.
“Mh!- Sanji! L-Let go!- Let go of me!“ You yell, flailing around and trying to pull your wrist from his tight grasp. He pulls your breasts away from his faces, and frowns at you. “I’ve just about had enough of your shit woman.” He groans angrily, taking your words and teasing to heart. He hated the fact that you were teasing him and somewhat mocking him, this isn’t how he wanted his night to play out.
He preferred it if you were softer and not making fun of him for being alone and for the fact that he was a pervert.
He tries his hardest to please a woman even with his distasteful qualities, it could be sexual or not. But you’re in no place to make fun of him and mock him for the fact that he couldn’t necessarily find love in his life.
“Y-You piece of shit! Let go of me already!” You yell angrily to him. “Oh and you aren’t? I’ve been having to put up with your shit ever since you bit me! So just be a dear and sit back while I fuck my cock into you like the pathetic little slut you are.” He shoves you off of his lap and you fall back onto the couch cushions, his hand pulling your wrists above your head while you squirm around and yell at him.
He pins you down against the couch and slides his cock inside of your cunt with ease, making you whimper and moan out abruptly. “Some nerve you have pretty lady. I don’t know who you think you are coming into my house and degrading me, but it just pisses me off!”
“So apologize and I just might grant you forgiveness by fucking your worthless pussy, you fucking slut.” You eyes were widened and you felt your heart ache a bit from how embarrassing it was to be degraded by him. You sadly underestimated him and you didn’t think he would react such a way just from all of the teasing. “Do it! Fucking apologize!” He demands slamming his cock into you and making you gasp out loudly.
You look up at him with slight fear in your eyes, a bit surprised at how mean he had gotten off all you’ve done. Then again, how could he not be?
A hand to your throat causes you to choke out and his eyes practically pierce your soul as he glares at you. “Do it.” He demands, his grip on your throat growing tighter. You whimper out as you struggle to breathe and you whine as you begin to squirm around.
“I’m sorry…I-I’m s-so sorry…” You choke out, a hard and deep kiss to your cervix making your eyes roll up. He smiles darkly at you before full on laughing at your embarrassment, his hand releasing from your throat. You turn your head away from him and whine out, throwing your head back as your cunt tightens around his length. You were so embarrassed yet you couldn’t help but moan up a storm while he fucked his anger out into your cunt.
His thrusts were hard and had heavy force impacted into them, your hip was starting to grow sore just from his harsh grip alone. He was just weak a moment ago…and it only took a bit of teasing to get him fired up. “S-Sanji!~” You moan out his name, a few tears pricking at your eyes as you felt him continuously kiss your cervix. He gets all up in your face, giving you a snarky smile as he enjoyed and relished in your reaction. You were so adorable when you were falling apart on his cock.
That’s when a lightbulb went off in his head.
He slowly removes his cock from your cunt and you suddenly whine out, a string of slick connecting with to his length from your pussy. “Hush hush. Be quiet for me.” He whispers, his eyes admiring your body beneath his. You looked so upset and vulnerable, and he fucking loved it.
“Flip over for me. Now.” He demands, his tone firm yet serious as he glares at you. You shivered and obeyed, turning over onto your stomach while you felt his soft hands rub up against your ass. “Lift your hips.” He demands, the sight of you slowly lifting your hips making a smile appear across his face. Your body shuddered as you worried for what he was going to do next. Part of you wanted him to continue fucking you like some cheap whore, but you waited for his next move with slight fear brewing up in your lower tummy.
You feel him spread your cheeks opens before he spits out onto your hole, making you jolt suddenly before turning your head back to him. “Turn back around, don’t look at me. Just sit there and wait.” He demanded, his tone making you jump before you turn back around and away from him. You held the couch cushions tightly as you felt him slide his length along your rear entrance, humming out before he slowly began to push in.
You gasp out suddenly as he took it slow, sliding his length into your tight hole before he began to thrust inside. You let out a soft gasp with every thrust he took, and those gasps slowly began to grow into pleasureful moans. He groans out as he thrusts into your ass, his chest pressing up close against your back as his thrusts grew deeper inside you. “Ah~ F-Fuck Sanji~” You moan out to him, his hands waffling on top of yours while he fucks into your ass with delicacy.
He groans out behind you, his breath hitting up against the back of your neck while his curly brows furrowed as he felt your ass tighten around his length. “S-So good~ You’re so much better when you’re put in your place~ My little slutty sweetie pie~” He chuckles, squishing your face with one hand. You growl at him but it was quickly cut off with a moan, his cock going deeper into your ass and making you tighten up. You push your ass up farther into his hips, wanting him to go even deeper inside of you.
You moan out lovingly as you feel his thrusts increase in speed and you drool out onto the couch. Your cunt tightens around nothing but air as your body begins to rock from the intensity of his thrusts. The sticky sound of Sanji’s hips snapping against your ass only turned you on even more and you gasp out as you felt one of Sanji’s hands reach around to stimulate your clit. He pulls out once again, making you whimper out in displeasure and he giggles before grabbing your hips.
He sits down onto the couch and beckons you to sit on his lap, his eyes glancing back and forth between your pretty ass and pretty eyes. “Here, sit back onto my cock sweetheart~” He hums, smiling to you. You obey without delay, slowly lowering your ass back onto his cock before fully sitting onto his lap. You mewl out heavily as he moves your hips, bouncing your ass onto his length while he groans out in pleasure. “Lift your leg for me sweetie.” He whispers to you, one of his hands trailing down between your inner thighs.
You obey and lift one of your legs, allowing Sanji to slide his fingers into your cunt making you throw your head back before gasping out. He fingers your pussy, grinding his fingertips into your g-spot while he continues to fuck your ass. Your body shudders heavily against his and moan out as your eyes begins to roll up from the pleasure. “Sanji!~ Oh fuck Sanjiiii!~” You moan, your face scrunching up as you felt yourself reaching your climax.
Sanji huffs out and throws his head back, his legs trembling as his cock begins to twitch in your soft and tight hole. “H-Hah~ I feel you tightening, fuck it feels so good~” He groans out, his curly brows furrowing as he breathes out shakily. You gasp out and your toes begins to curl as you feel yourself ready to squirt out onto his fingers. “Mmgh!~ O-Oh! I-I’m- I’m gonna!~” You moan out and your cunt tightens around his fingers as you finally reach your peak.
“Cum baby, cum on my fingers and my cock~” He demands, thrusting his fingers deep into your pussy. “I-I’m cumming~ O-OH FUCK SANJI!~” You shudder against his lap and moan out as you finally release, squirting out onto his couch and his slacks while your breaths grew heavy. Sanji’s continues to finger your cunt through your orgasm and he huffs heavily as he holds your hip tight. “F-Fuck~ I’m cumming~ I’m gonna cum!~” Sanji huffs out and breathes heavily, his thrusts growing rough and fast as he chased after his orgasm.
Tears began to prick at your eyes and you felt yourself wanting to cry while he fucked both of your holes with his cock and his fingers. You arch your back and gasp out, whining as he shoves his fingers hard against your g-spot. “S-Sanjiii!~ S-Sanji!” You whine out his name, your hands gripping his forearms while your back begins to arch. Sanji curses to himself as he finally felt himself climaxing, his groans loud and breathy as he keeps you up against his cock.
“F-FUCK~ F-Fuck sweetie I’m cumming!~ I-I’m cumming!~” He lets out a silent gasp as he finally shoots ropes of cum deep into your ass, filling you up while you whine out from overstimulation. You began to feel full as he came into your hole, his cum practically spilling out of you and onto his lap while he empties his balls deep inside of you. He finally removes his fingers from your cunt, a gasp escaping you due to the sensitivity and overstimulation.
You began to hyperventilate and you struggle to gain your breath back, a whimper leaving you as you rest your head back against Sanji’s shoulder. Sanji smiles and presses his hands against your shoulder, pressing a smooch to your cheek. “Breathe sweetie.” He chuckles, amused at how you were now all whiny against him. You frown at him, sighing heavily as you sat up from his shoulder.
“Ah ah~”
Sanji grips your shoulder and pulls you back closer to him.
“You didn’t apologize sweetheart-“
“Yes I did! Yes I did now let me go!”
“Do it again, just to make sure~”
“Over my dead body!”
“Do it and I’ll let you get another bite then~”
You sigh heavily at his ignorance. “N-No…” You huff, crossing your arms and turning away from him. Sanji chuckles as he feel you tighten on his cock. “You know you like my blood sweetie, you said you liked how rich it was didn’t you?~” He whispers, making you tremble against him. You groan out before sighing in defeat, turning around to him pressing a smooch to his lips.
“Fine…I’m sorry. For staining your suit and your floor.” He apologized, a chuckle leaving you. “Not for biting me?” He asked, quirking a brow to you. “Well I’m not going to apologize for that if I’m going to keep doing it, cutie pie~” You giggled, sliding your fingers along his fresh neck wound.
He chuckles and pulls your closer to you, making you mewl out. “You’re so cute when you’re tamed~” Sanji hums, pressing a smooch to your lips. You sigh out and giggle, running a hand through his soft blonde strands.
“I guess having you around would be less of a hassle to find rich and delicious blood such as yours…” You hum, smiling to him.
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
Text
nevermore…
chapter 1: dancing around
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: reader has newfound abilities with her mind and is continuing to uncover new powers as her parents ship her off to nevermore out of fear and disgust. xavier helps reader during their time at nevermore.
warnings: readers mom is terrible, panic attack, i don’t think there’s anything else but please let me know if you find anything that may need to be warned about!
a/n: this is the first chapter in a series i’m starting
chapter 2 here
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“i don’t want to go,” you cried as your mother continued to pack your bags. “i don’t need to go! i can be normal, i can make it-“
“no!” she zipped up your bag as you angrily wiped your eyes. “you can’t control it,” she shoved her finger in your face. “you throw things around my house while eating, you start floating when you’re in class, you’re not normal! until you learn to control this you’re not my daughter either.”
“you don’t… you don’t mean that,” you held onto the hand that was waving in your face. “i-im still your daughter. im still the same old y/n that you love.”
she scoffed in disgust as she ripped her hand away from your grip, wiping it on her clothes, “no. you’re an abomination. you’re a freak,” she snarled. “no child of mine is a freak.”
that was the last time you spoke to your mother. now, here you are on a train to the nevermore boarding school. she had heard from it while on some lame business trip, picked up a pamphlet and everything. now you were questioning the fact that she ever had a business trip in the first place.
clearly she was just scoping out the place. maybe that meant she cared enough to ensure the school was right for you, or maybe she simply had to talk to someone to make sure they could handle her problem child.
when the train screeched to a stop, you held onto your bags tightly as you began to stroll off the vehicle your mother forced you onto. eventually, you might be able to ignore the sting that’s pierced your heart due to your parent stabbing it.
she was scared of you.
you never hurt her, yet she was frightened. the thought of your powers escalating and you being more powerful terrified her to no extent.
it started with you accidentally spilling drinks. you would simply be talking with your hands and suddenly a drunk across the counter would spill in the direction you were motioning. your mother picked up on it almost immediately, making you clean it up and forcing you to claps your hands neatly in your lap every time you were to talk.
then you had began to read her thoughts. you would hear the sarcasm in her head as she said i love you. the attitude that would reverberate every single time you apologized for your powers glitching out.
when you started floating, which was really just glorified floating, she was at her wits’ end. it wasn’t but two days later when she shoved you on that train and sent you off.
“welcome to nevermore, y/n y/l/n,” principal weems announced happily, her arms opening in a grand way. “let me show you to your dorm,”
“will,” you sighed, trying to push down the rising frustration and anger. “will this school help me learn to control it? the mind stuff?”
“darling,” principal weems reached to grasp your hand, stroking it gently with her thumb. “this school is the best place for you to not only learn to appreciate and use your powers, but also for you to feel welcomed and not alone.”
“thank you,” you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “i hope that’s all true.”
“now,” principal weems began to explain as she walked you towards your dorm. “your roommate is a vampire, yoko. she’s truly one of the sweetest students we’ve had grace the halls of nevermore. you’ve nothing to worry about. she’ll be able to give you a tour of campus and explain everything to you. i also need to meet with you at 2 pm about extracurricular activities.”
weems knocked quietly before opening the door, revealing the room to the both of you. “hi,” you meekly spoke. “i’m-“
“y/n,” she nodded as she got up and greeted you with a hug. “welcome to nevermore,” she gave you a sweet smile, genuine even. “it’s odd that you’ve come mid-semester since that doesn’t normally happen, but i see they’ve made a proper exception!”
you looked up towards the principal, wanting some answers. “well, your mother made it seem as though this was urgent, and i happen to agree,” she explained.
“my mother doesn’t care about what happens to me,” you muttered as your gaze hit the old wooden floors. splinters we’re peaking out of nearly every board, you made a note to make sure to wear shoes at all times.
“well,” weems began to speak. “i suppose i’ll leave you two to it! be sure to give her the tour, and y/n, your things are being brought up as we speak.”
“this is the quad,” she spoke as you both walked slow to give you time to observe everything. “and, of course, like any other school, this one also has those very same cliques,” she began pointing to tables that were gathered together talking. “they have these specific ‘names’ but it’s kinda stupid. these are the vamps, my crew,” she gave them a wave as she continued to walk with you. “these are the werewolves, the sirens, and i must give you a special note of bianca, the resident queen of nevermore, and of course the gorgons.”
“seems simple enough,” you took a deep breath as you saw one person estranged from everyone else, painting the wall. “who’s he?”
god, these dreams just keep getting worse. i mean first this weird creature and now i’m seeing some girl? it just doesn’t make sense.
“hey,” yoko squeezed your shoulder. “what was that? you just zoned out.”
“oh um…” you furrowed your brows while trying to explain. “i have these mind ability things, but i have no control over them. i can move things with my mind, read minds, and apparently levitate? it’s weird,” you rolled your eyes as your gaze fixed on the same boy, finding that his met yours. when they did they widened with surprise.
her. why… she’s here?
“who-who is he?” you nodded your head towards him. he began to stare at you, a smile gracing his face. you simply turned your head the other way.
“that is xavier thorpe,” her arm was now redting over your shoulders. “he’s our resident tortured artist, really talented, kind of a loner.”
“hm,” you nodded as you looked back at him. your eyes met once more before he smiled and quickly looked back towards the mural he was painting.
“and that’s basically everything,” she shrugged. “wanna sit with me and the vamps? you don’t have to, but you’re more than welcome.”
“i’m good, i think i’m just gonna familiarize myself with the place, walk around a bit,” you began to walk away as she nodded.
you were simply wandering around. the school is extremely old, surely there are some little secrets about the place you’d be able to uncover. the library seemed normal enough, recently built. the floors weren’t splintering like the ones in your room. each book was dust free, the emblems were polished, clearly no secrets hidden away in the room.
making your way outside, you had stumbled upon an old, run-down shed. vibes were growing in the sides of the building, surely on the inside as well. you opened the freely doors to see the building was overgrown with plants and vines from outside. it was promising. the structure was sturdy and rather beautiful.
after checking the time on your phone, you realized it was 1:50. you rushed into principal weems office before it was even 1:59, you enjoyed being punctual.
“principal weems,” you nodded as you entered her office.
“y/n!” she stood and gestured for you to take a seat. “now, what kind of activities are you interested in? i have a list of extracurricular activities that you may be interested in if you’d like to take a look.”
the list was long, very long. there was poetry, dancing, fencing, orchestra, choir, potions, boating, beekeeping, and so much more.
“i’ve heard that your mother was always an excellent dancer,” weems mused, trying to encourage you.
“i guess,” you nodded. “i guess i can do that one.”
“oh, that sounds lovely!” she nodded as she wrote something down. “now there’s an even number for pairs.”
“i do have a question…” you began. “i found this old shed on campus. it’s run down but i was wondering if i could work on it? in my free time?”
“well, i think that’d be lovely,” she nodded. “we have gardening tools you can grab from ms. thornhill.”
once you found a garden hoe and shovel. you started at the roots of the vines, tearing them from the ground and tossing them outside.
from books to jewelry, you had always loved restoring things. it was so easy to see the beauty in things that were new, but you were able to see the beauty in even the things that were old or damaged.
it only took you three hours to clear out all of the greenery. you figured that was good enough until you got more supplies.
after closing the door, your head towards the ground, you bumped into someone.
“woah, sorry,” the voice had apologized. you looked up at the voice, seeing xavier thorpe, holding your shoulders so you remained steady. “hi,” he had a beautiful smile.
“sorry,” you looked back down. “i was just leaving,” you began to walk away from the boy.
“i’m xavier!” he called out, you stopped in your tracks. “xavier thorpe,” you turned to face him.
“i know,” you nodded before continuing to walk away, back towards your dorm.
i need to know her.
you turned to see his eyes trailing you, his face in deep thought.
there’s no reason you can think of as to why he’d be so caught up on you, if it was even you he’s thinking about.
-
“alright class!” the dance teacher began to speak. “pair up with one another, we’ll be doing a classic waltz.”
you stood there, waiting for some leftovers to pair up with. you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move, especially since you’re new.
“hey,” xavier appeared in front of you with a smile so beautiful it was torture.
“xavier,” you nodded, pressing your lips together as you waited for him to do whatever it is that he wanted.
“do you have a partner yet, mystery girl?”
“well, no,” you shook your head. “i don’t think the new girl is ever the first person to have a partner, xavier.”
“y’know i don’t think it’s very fair that i still don’t know your name,” he held his hand out for you to grab, you rested it on top of his larger hand. “especially now that we’re partners.”
“we’re partners?”
he nodded his head as he began to hold your hand, rather than just let yours rest stop his, “that we are, mystery girl.”
“alright,” the teacher clapped her hands together as she began to instruct where hand placement should be. “the lead should rest their right hand on their partner’s back, holding their hand with the other. the followers left hand should go on their partners shoulder.”
“i should lead,” you told him. “my mother danced for years, im well versed in almost everything.”
“funny you should mention,” he rested his hand on your back, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “i’ve been to a few of my father’s functions, had professional lessons in ballroom dancing.”
“whatever,” you sighed as you let him take the lead.
“remember,” the teacher began to emphasize. “you aren’t dancing in a plague. you need to get close in order to feel the rhythm with one another.”
“you heard her,” he stepped closer to you, you held your breath. “we need to get close.”
you met his eyes, not missing the annoyingly smug grin that adorned his face. “we were fine before,” you shrugged.
his thumb stroked your back, “teacher’s orders. not my fault,” you felt his shoulders shrug underneath your hand.
it had been a long time since you were so close to a person. your own mother hadn’t hugged you since you were a child, since you were normal.
the way your hand fit in his was more comfortable than you thought it could ever be. it was warm, welcoming, even. it was right.
so, you shut your mouth. you stepped an inch closer to xavier, you held onto his hand a little tighter, and you let yourself be close to someone for at least one dance.
“why won’t you tell me your name?” he whispered as the teacher began to instruct the movements to make.
“just for you to forget it? no point in it,” it was your turn to shrug.
“i’m not one to typically forget something so significant,” you wouldn’t meet his eyes. you simply looked at your feet as they moved around the floor. “do you not know that everyone’s been talking about you?”
“oh… no, i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “what’re they saying?”
“y’know,” he tilted his head, effectively getting your attention. “just that you’re some mystery girl that happens to be pretty cute.”
“i’m also a girl who knows how things like this pan out, xavier,” you warned him, one of your brows raising as a warning.
he simply furrowed his brows, his smile quirking down. it didn’t matter what he thought of you. you were here to get things under control so you could become a normal, not so you could find a cute guy to be with.
“how would that be?”
“well, you call me cute, i bat my eyelashes at you, somehow we hangout and i may get attached, and then you turn your head for the next ‘mysterious girl that happens to be cute’,” you replied with a low level of hostility. “i’m here to get my shit under control, then go home to my mother. i don’t plan on being tossed around like a doll while i do that.”
“alright class!” the teacher clapped her hands. “that’s all for today, wonderful job!”
you tore yourself away from him and nearly ran away. it wasn’t personal. it was simply you laying down the law, per-say.
eventually, you made your way to botany. you sat in the only desk that nobody was seated in. it seemed as though they were set in duos, partners.
of course, as if the devil was grinning at you, xavier thorpe walked in. his eyes immediately darted towards where you were seating with a smug look.
“i’m starting to think this is fate,” he plopped his bag down and sat in the chair beside you.
“how?” you didn’t bother meeting his stare.
“well, this is where i always sit,” he sighed loudly. “you can even ask thornhill. it is.”
you were getting frustrated, which wasn’t good. any strong emotion made your powers go a bit… haywire.
“just… stop,” you began to tap your pencil against the table.
“just tell me your name?”
you felt your blood begin to boil. the bell hadn’t even rung yet and you were in the verge of exploding.
“xavier,” you tried to steady your breathing.
“mystery girl?” he seemed to become a bit more worried as you closed your eyes.
“it’s about to happen,” you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued to feel your heartbeat racing.
“what?”
“the moving thing-the thing where i can move things-i just-“
“open your eyes,” he rested his hand on yours. “trust me.”
you opened them.
“now, i need you to look me in my eyes,” you reluctantly met his eyes. “now focus on your breathing, in and out. slowly.”
“you have,” you began to speak. “you have little specks of brown in your eyes. they’re green, but they have specks of brown. a-a uh honey brown. they’re actually really nice to look at.”
your voice was distant, almost as if you were floating. it was soft and light, your head felt soft and light. but it was clear. your mind was clear; you weren’t panicking at all. you had calmed. he had calmed you down.
“there,” he finally released your hand. was he holding it the entire time? “you feel better?”
“yes-yea,” you were still staring at his eyes. “thanks… for that.”
“of course,” xavier nodded, his eyes seeming sincere. “you can stop staring at me now.”
“i’m not staring at you,” you shook your head as you picked your pencil back up, the teacher entering the room.
“you are,” he smiled now, looking you up and down. you couldn’t read his expression.
finally, you snapped out of it. you had to focus. it was your first day and you had to focus. you were going to make it back home to your mother. you would make her proud.
now you just had to find out 1) why xavier wanted to know so much about you. 2) how he was able to calm you down so easily. and 3) how the hell to control your powers.
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vmpiires · 19 days
Text
﹆₊吸血鬼‧₊˚ TOLD HER BABY I EAT HUMANS, KAMO CHOSO
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ you encountered the famous vampire hunter. wc, 2.27K. dark mode recommended.
␥ note. got this idea from a fanart i saw on twitter. MY LORD HE WAS FINE..erm anyway,, JOIN THE DISCORD AND THANKS AGAIN FOR 400 FOLLOWERS. hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meee
␥ tags. vampire AU, half-vampire vampire hunter!choso, female anatomy, blood, light smut (?), etc. lmk if i missed anything
␥ misc. masterlist AO3
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the cathedral stood tall and imposing, its intricate stone façade glimmering in the moonlight. each stained-glass window depicted a different biblical scene, casting colorful patterns on the ground below. inside, the soft murmur of hushed prayers from the townspeople reverberated through the halls, creating a serene ambiance. but choso's purpose for being there was not to pray.
his heavy footsteps echoed through the cavernous halls as he made his way through the dimly lit crypt, guided only by flickering candlelight. the musty smell of ancient bones and earth filled his nostrils, sending shivers down his spine.
choso cut an imposing figure, his tall frame draped in a black cassock that nearly fell to his ankles with black pants underneath. a matching mozzetta hung from his shoulders, fluttering in the air as he walked, adding a sense of solemnity in his presence.
his black boots were sturdy and well-worn, a testament to the countless hunts he'd been on over the years since the church recruited him. his black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, letting his bangs hang just above his eyes, revealing his pale skin. and his violet eyes were piercing, they seemed to glow with an inner fire.
across the bridge of his nose, a blood mark stood out, a stark reminder of his vampiric nature. a battle he waged within himself. around his neck hung his rosary, a symbol of his faith, which he wielded as fearlessly as any weapon.
the hunter's struggle with his vampiric nature was a constant battle. despite his determination to suppress his undying thirst for human blood, he could still feel the deep-seated urges simmering beneath the surface. he likened it to a constant humming in the back of his mind, a temptation that was always there, no matter how hard he tried to stop it.
it took every ounce of willpower to resist the pull of his instincts. choso had finally developed several coping mechanisms over the years, from meditation and prayer to sheer force of will. but still, the thirst lingered, his mouth suddenly going dry at the sight of a human and the distinct smell of their blood, imagining the flavor.
as choso continued to make his way through the crypt, his senses remained on high alert. he could feel the weight of silence, the chill of the stone walls, and the oppressive air of the tomb. but what captivated his attention was the scent of human blood.
his steps faltered as a sudden wave of hunger washed over him. his fangs ached to sink into soft flesh, his body craved the sweet taste of blood. he closed his eyes, willing the thirst to subside. he couldn't afford to lose control, not here.
the hunter's body was tense, his breaths shallow and controlled as he focused on calming himself. he reached for his rosary, the smooth beads cool against his skin, a symbol of strength and protection. in his mind, he conjured the faces of those he had sworn to defend - innocent men, women, and children who relied on him for their safety. with each bead he passed through his fingers, the hunger that threatened to overtake him slowly began to subside, leaving behind a hollow ache in its wake.
choso's eyes snapped open as he sensed movement in the shadows once again. he whirled around, his hand instinctively reaching for the blessed dagger made from his own blood at his hip. that's when he saw you, the human he had been sensing, huddled in the corner of the crypt.
for a moment, he was struck by your vulnerability, your fragile humanity. but then his gaze was drawn to the pulse beating in your neck, the blood flowing beneath your skin. he felt the thirst rising again, stronger this time, harder to resist.
choso took a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours. he could see the fear in them, the knowledge of what he was. he felt a sudden shame, a revulsion at his own nature. but still, the hunger gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the character he tried to suppress.
he stopped a few feet away from you, his body trembling with the effort of resisting the urge to feed. "what are you doing here?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. "it's not safe down here...not for someone like you."
the man's gaze flickered around the crypt, taking in the dusty tombs and the eerie silence. choso's mind was racing, trying to piece together how you had ended up in such a place. had you been lured here by another vampire? or did you sneak in?
he took a deep breath, trying to center himself. "you need to go," he said, his tone firm. "now, before you get into some trouble." even as he spoke, he could feel the thirst rising again, reminding him of the danger he posed.
silently, without another word passing between you and the hunter, you swiftly exited the cold and dusty crypt, choso’s mozzetta fluttering behind him as a draft flew by him. your footsteps echoed through the dark tunnels as you made your way back to the main floor of the church, leaving the solitary hunter behind in his thoughts.
the smell of damp stone and old incense filled your nostrils as you ascended the stairs, anxious to escape the unsettling atmosphere of the crypt. finally, you emerged into the warm light of the cathedral, relieved to be once again surrounded by familiar surroundings.
choso watched you go, his body tense and coiled like a spring. he didn't relax until he heard the soft click of the crypt door closing behind you. only then did he let out a ragged breath, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion.
he sank to his knees, his head in his hands. he felt drained, both physically and emotionally. he had come so close to losing control and biting you, to becoming the thing he had sworn to fight against.
the male stayed like that for a long time, until the muffled sounds of footsteps in the church above finally spurred him into action. he stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. he knew he had a job to do, and he couldn't let his own weaknesses get in the way.
choso looked like a fallen angel, his pale skin glowing in the light streaming through the stained glass windows the following morning. the nuns fussed around him, their adoration plain to see. but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.
he sat in the pews, his gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling above him. his white collared shirt open, revealing a hint of his toned chest. his hair was tied back as usual, but a few stray strands had escaped, framing his face.
his thoughts kept returning to the events of the night before, to you, the human he saved. he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about you, something that set you apart from the others.
he closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. he needed to focus on his mission, on his duty as a vampire hunter. but your face kept intruding on his thoughts, your fear and vulnerability etched into his memory.
choso's thoughts were interrupted by movement at the sound of the church doors opening. he turned his head, his gaze instantly drawn to you as you walked down the aisle in his direction.
his eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a jolt of something he couldn't quite identify. you looked different in the daylight, your features softened by the warm sunlight streaming through the windows.
as you drew closer to choso, your steps faltered, and your eyes showed a mixture of uncertainty and genuine gratitude. but he could also see the fear in your gaze, knowing the potential danger he posed to you with his presence. his sharp features were set in a stern expression, adding to the tension between you both. as you stood before him, the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken understanding of the risks involved in this encounter.
with a deep inhale, he attempted to steady his racing heart and regain control of his emotions. "i distinctly remember warning you to stay away from this place," he started in a rough, gravelly voice. his eyes narrowed as he scanned the intruder standing before him. "what are you doing here?" the air seemed to crackle with tension as his words hung heavy in the stillness of the abandoned building.
you instinctively took a step back, feeling the weight of choso's presence and the depth of their emotions. "i needed to see you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "i wanted to say thank you for what you did last night."
the words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. the air was thick with tension as you waited for his response, uncertain of how he would react to your thanks. despite the distance between you, the intensity of your feelings bridged the gap and connected you in that moment.
you leaned in, your voice still barely above a whisper. "but i wanted to ask you something," you prompted. "in private." your words hung in the air, creating a sense of mystery and intrigue. the soft glow of the sun peering through the window illuminated the faint outlines of your face as you waited for their response.
choso looked at you, his expression unreadable. "no, there's no time for that," he said firmly. "you need to go before something happens and you need to stay away."
with your chin held high, you stood your ground. "no," your voice was shaking but determined. "i need to talk to you. it's important."
the hunter hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. he knew he needed to protect you, but he also couldn't ignore the urgency of the situation. "fine," he said finally, his voice tight. "but make it quick."
with a firm grip, he snatched you by the hand and urgently led you into an empty room, away from the curious eyes of the parishioners flooding in. as soon as the door slammed shut, choso wasted no time in closing the distance between you. his breath was hot against your skin as he leaned in close, his dark eyes burning with intensity.
choso’s voice was filled with urgency as he spoke. it echoed off the stone walls and reverberated through the dark room. "what is it?" he questioned, his eyes searching yours for answers. "what could possibly be so important that you would risk your life to come here and tell me?" the tension in the air was palpable as you hesitated before revealing your question. every word was like a fragile thread that could unravel at any moment.
the question had been nagging at you since the moment you left the cathedral. "how come you didn't bite me when you saw me?" the words escaped your lips before you could even think about it. choso turned to look at you, his widening with surprise at your query. "why did you decide to let me go instead?"
your tone was curious, almost amused. you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what made him spare your life when he could have easily ended it right then and there. the air around you felt heavy as you stood before the hunter, awaiting his response.
choso hadn't expected you to be so direct with him, so perceptive. but before he could answer, he felt his mouth go dry with thirst rising within him, more powerful than it had ever been. he took a step towards you, his violet eyes glowing with desire. he knew he shouldn't, aware that it was dangerous, but he couldn't resist.
"because..." he whispered, his voice strained. "i couldn't."
without thinking, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was hungry, desperate, fueled by his desire for blood and something else he couldn't quite identify.
your body stiffened in surprise, but then you found yourself melting against him, returning the kiss with equal fervor. for only a moment, choso had forgotten about everything except for the taste of your lips and the thirst welling up inside him.
choso lifted you with ease and gently placed you onto the cleared desk in the room. his lips traveled from yours to your neck, pressing soft kisses against your skin and occasionally nibbling on it, leaving a trail of marks behind. each touch sent shivers down your spine and your pulse quickened as you let out quiet moans, struggling to contain your growing desire.
the sensation of his warm breath on your neck only added to the intensity of the moment. the room was filled with the scent of passion and anticipation, as bodies pressed together in a dance of pleasure. choso's hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve with his touch.
the sensation of his warm breath on your neck only added to the moment’s intensity. the room was filled with the scent of passion and anticipation, as bodies pressed together in a dance of pleasure. choso's hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve with his touch.
while his lips pressed against your neck, you felt a sharp pinch on your skin, followed by a faint slurping sound. choso's mouth and shirt were now stained with your blood, causing your eyes to widen in shock. before you could even process what had happened, he pulled away and kissed you again with an urgent hunger, his actions more desperate and forceful than before.
you could feel the warmth of your own blood mingling with his saliva as the taste of iron filled your mouth. the intensity of the moment sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and a strange sense of pleasure that you couldn't quite explain.
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⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
Note
Hi! Love your writing and I wanted to give you some food for thought, see if it interests you perhaps 🤭 Astarion×Tav is usually about someone smaller in size and maybe a druid or healer, but my character is a tiefling berserk barbarian... with a bigger body size... horns and tail in all their glory... if you are interested I'd love to hear if you'd got some headcanons for a character like this? 💕🙏🏻
Hi! When imagining a bigger f!Tav with Astarion, I can't stop thinking about Gwendolyn Christie (aka Brienne of Tarth) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (aka Jaime Lannister). Look at the photos of them, especially when Gwen wears high-heels (and she also has a husband who is much shorter than her but sews all her dresses to make her the most fabulous 6.3 ft tall woman)
Also, Neil Newbon plays a bigger druid, Tav. He was shocked that she picked Astarion in the first sex scene ^-^
NSFW Version
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x F!BulkyTav
When you hug, Astarion's face is right up against your chest, and he can hear your heartbeat.
Which is soothing to him.
The running water problem is solved! You lift Astarion "bridal style" and put him onto your shoulders to cross the river.
Astarion is grumpy about it every time.
But deep inside, he enjoys it.
Need a better view to aim? Well, you are right here in all your barbarian 6.3 ft. glory!
Astarion can't take his eyes off how graciously you walk with a two-handed ax on your shoulders.
And once you both return to the civilized world, he will get you a dress and high heels.
Because with high heels and a dress, you will look like a gods damn goddess of war!
Is he intimidated by the fact you are taller? Never. You are his big and powerful wife, and he's proud of everything you do!
You are a big spoon, of course. And being wrapped in your hands makes Astarion feel warm and safe.
When in rage, you don't feel pain, and it hurts him to see you wounded and with broken bones
He puts your head on his lap and strokes your hair to soothe you after the battle.
Once, Astarion was caught off guard by vampire hunters who beat him and left him helpless in the sunrise.
You managed to get there right in time to crack the hunters' skulls.
And quickly carry Astarion to the safety and darkness.
Unfortunately, the merciless sun burnt him enough to slow vampire regeneration, and it took Astarion a month to fully recover.
All this time, you nurtured and fed him, telling him stories and legends of your people and only leaving him once you needed to fetch some food for yourself.
Seeing him being able to walk again was the happiest moment of your life.
When he drinks your blood, it's him sitting on your lap.
"You are a messy eater, you know that?" you ask, seeing him covered in your blood.
"You are a terribly messy eater, I hope you know that?" he comments, looking at you eating a boar's leg.
He laughs at you being not so discreet in the wilderness and attracting all sorts of enemies in your journey.
"Darling, you are loud like an ork and have the manners of a giant!"
Once you got so drunk in a feast after killing a dragon, you came to Astarion and started talking different sweet nonsense.
"I want to have silver-curled babies with you. Imagine how fierce they will be!"
Indeed, you are strong and fierce, wearing the heavy armor set, but you are still a woman, a woman Astarion loves and takes care of.
"Wear a helmet, Tav! Last time we had a quest, our half-ork companion used your head as a battering ram! Get the fucking helmet!"
Once, the enemy was too strong, and you ended up severely wounded. The most challenging thing for Astarion was to get rid of the heavy armor on your broken body to carry you to a safe place.
The view of you in pain and agony traumatized him so much he didn't dare to leave your side until you fully recovered.
You want to die in a glorious battle and bards to make songs about you.
Astarion promises you not to step into the sun once you die this glorious death but to make sure every bard and storyteller knows about your deeds and adventures.
But until then...
You have plenty of things to kill!
Hope you enjoyed it!
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chixkencxrry · 10 months
Text
mi sol
Summary: You get a new job as a caretaker at a mysterious estate two towns over. The salary is good enough for you to ignore certain things -- at first. Soon enough you have no choice but to get away. Too bad you're in for life. (one-shot, plot with porn) Vampire! Yandere! Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Reader
Warnings: eventual SMUT, masturbation, p in v, pussy eating, somewhat YANDERE! MIGUEL, YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU! NOT PROOFED
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fanart by @yeagersatorubar (twt)
The email had come in the middle of the night.
It was from an unrecognizable source. An acceptance to something, some job you didn’t remember applying for. A caretaker job two towns over. You rubbed your eyes in the blue light glare of your rickety laptop, lips pursued as you read.
“When did I apply for this?”
Attached to the close of the email was a number and name. A woman named Lyla was the contact. The name of the property was Stone. You dialled the number. If the person was sending the email this late, you didn’t worry about your call waking them up. 
“Hello. You must be our new caretaker.”
You cleared your throat – taken aback. “I, uh, yes. I am. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling this late.”
The woman chuckled. “That’s fine! You’ll learn that we keep odd hours here.”
“Right,” did you really need the money that much? You eyed your room. It was pink, with posters half hanging. It had been your childhood room and you still occupied it. It made your mouth itch. You needed to leave. “When do you want me to start?”
Though as your taxi pulled up to the estate, you found yourself regretting it. Maybe regret was too strong a word. You found yourself reconsidering it. Had you done something terribly stupid by coming here? By packing your things and telling your parents they could fuck off?
It had taken four hours to get here, the sun had set and it was twilight now. Would it be too early to run back with your tail between your legs? Were you so weak that you had to give up? 
“That’ll be 50$.” the driver grunted, growing impatient with your slow movement.
You baulked and shoved the bill into his hand. Out of spite, you took your time to get your bags out – making sure you didn’t miss one. You could have sworn you heard him curse as he drove off. Rolling your eyes, you slid your phone out to get to your emails – Lyla had sent you the code to get in. Turning your flashlight on the keypad, you punched the code in and continued your trek up the property. It was a long walk that left you huffing. 
Once you met the great doors, you knocked the lion-faced knockers loudly a few times and waited. When you went to try for a second time, it pierced your skin, making you hiss. Your finger slipped into your mouth and you sucked. 
The door swung open to reveal a fashionable dress auburn-haired woman with heart-shaped sunglasses. She grinned at you. All sharp, white teeth. “Hello! Aren't you an earlier riser?”
You bristled. “Pardon?”
“Are these your bags?” She turned her head inside the mansion and whistled. “I’ll get Ben to bring them in.”
Lyla was the assistant of the owner of the house. A real recluse, she claimed. You didn’t mind. They had paid you a freaking signing bonus when you agreed. Who gave signing bonuses to caretakers? Dumb rich people. This guy could be a troll for all you cared. As long as each salary came with the flourish of that, you could never meet the man. 
“It's more of a managerial position really.” Lyla clarified after showing you the lion’s share of the house. “Ben takes care of the heavy lifting. Or Peter – he doesn’t show up much though, new father and all that.”
“We have cameras in the common areas. Bedrooms and baths are off limits of course. You’ll get access to them.”
“So, Mr. Stone just wants me to look after the place? Make sure it's clean and in order?”
Lyla stilled, causing you to bump into her. Her pale face twitched. “Mr. O’Hara. Don’t make that mistake again.”
“Sorry. It’s just the name of the estate –”
Lyla shook her head. “Don’t make that mistake again.”
“My bad.”
The tour continued on silently. Lyla stopped at the West Wing, where a portrait of a young family hung. They were dressed in regalia from at least three centuries ago. It was of two beautiful boys, a stately-looking woman and a cold-faced man. You shivered. You hoped the man was not Mr O’Hara.
“Don’t worry,” Lyla seemed to read your mind. Her pointer finger landed on the taller of the two boys. “That’s Mr O’Hara.”
You relaxed. Even though it was an old photo, the bright-eyed kid couldn’t be too different from the man who had just hired yourself out to. 
Right?
***
Miguel felt warm.
For the first time in a century, he felt the warmth of you in the walls of his prison. It was like feeling the sun again. Like tasting wine, luscious and dark. You were home. He hadn’t risen yet. His meal sat by his window, eyes glossed over with compulsion. Miguel didn’t want to see you without eating. It had been so long after all. So very long without your touch, the brush of your lips, the scent of your hair, the feel of your pussy.
He throbbed with want for you. 
Rising from his coffin, his talons fell. Piercing two holes in the side of his meal’s neck, Miguel made sure to drink his fill until it was cold and listless. His fangs, his fangs he would keep for you. 
It was funny how it started. He had run into you while on a hunt. Well, you hadn’t noticed of course. You had been on a date, smelling of want and looking like sin in red. He wasn’t worthy of you. But that man touched you and lips had planted on your skin – he was lucky Miguel hadn’t killed him right then and there. He had been too caught up in you. Looking at you. Seeing you. Flesh and fire before him. The curls of your hair, the flare of your hips, the drag of your voice and the thrill of your laughter.
That man did not deserve any of that.
All of that belonged to him. 
In the computer age, everything lay at his fingertips. He found you with ease. Found where you lived. Who you were now. Everything that the web of connections could provide. He knew what books you read, what songs you liked, your favourite bands and flower. 
He also knew you needed him. You were twenty-five and unemployed, living with your parents and your art wasn’t selling as you’d liked. How that desperation clung to you, how that desperation made you sweet to him. 
A gurgling sound distracted him. 
Sneering, he looked at his feet to see the meal had not totally died. Rolling his eyes, he tore the heart out of its chest and sucked the remaining blood. He cursed. 
Now he’d have to shower before seeing you. What a nuisance.
After cleaning off the blood, he watched the surveillance footage of Lyla giving you the door and waited until she’d left you alone like he’d asked to find you. He didn’t want an interloper. He wanted you alone to create a repertoire. 
Running his fingers through his hair, he checked his teeth in the mirror — all traces of blood were gone. His talons were retracted, fangs disappeared but his eyes were still red from feeding. Would that freak you? He didn’t want to change it.
Tapping his smartwatch, he ordered Lyla to bring him a pair of contacts. 
“Why? Won’t it just dissolve in a few hours?” 
“Because I said so.”
“Well, now I’m not gonna bring them on principle.”
Miguel snapped. “Lyla…please bring the goddamn contacts.”
“They’re already in your room, fearless creator. Vanity drawer to the left.”
Miguel switched the watch off. Carefully, he placed the contacts onto his eyes. They stung a little but he only needed it for a few hours. They would be long dissolved and by then his eyes would return to their true brown. 
You were beautiful in the kitchen. Hair tied up in a bun ontop of your head. Messy curls sweep to your forehead. Lips, pinked and plumb moving as you chewed. You seemed to try to make yourself seem smaller. Crouching over the plate of chicken salad Lyla had prepared for you. She couldn’t cook – his golem, but she tried. They had so few human guests these days after all.
Miguel cleared his throat, making you jolt and stare at him with big eyes. Your lashes fluttered, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stood. “Oh, hello! You must be Mr. O’Hara.”
Your offered hand hung for a moment. He eyed it. Bare, delicate, your nails sharpened to a humanly acceptable point. He realised he’d been staring for longer than necessary and took it, glad he fed so his body warm. Your hand slipped in with ease. He gripped it and shook it, saying your name. “Call me Miguel. It’s nice to meet you. Lyla gave you the grounds tour?”
“Oh...no, she, uh, showed me the house and my quarters but not the grounds.” You titled your head, looking out the window. “I figured it was too dark out, no?”
Excellent. “We have very good lights. If you’re finished eating, I can give you the tour myself.”
“Yes! Definitely.” So eager. How promising.
***
Mr. O’Hara – no, Miguel, led you out by placing a hand on the small of your back. It was large and spanning and brushed against the rise of your ass before it fell to his side again and he resumed a respectable distance. He smelt of sandalwood and citrus. An oud wafted from him. This immaculately dressed older man with lines on his face creating dimension. He couldn’t be much older than you, but everything about him seemed grown whereas you seemed like a child playing dress up in adulthood. 
The grounds were massive. Three acres he’d said. There was a small rose garden that led out to a private lake. A family mausoleum that made you shutter when you passed it. Arched trees bent over the manicured green. The entire place was immaculate. 
What on earth did they need you for?
“Did the pass caretaker retire?”
Miguel shook his head. A small fence came into view. You saw dried-up shrubs and trees, barren spots and a small shed. “She passed.”
“My condolences,” you whispered softly, fingers brushing along his arm to comfort him briefly. “What is this?”
“It used to be a greenhouse.”
There was nothing green about the space. Clearing your throat, you let Miguel guide you back to the house. It was late now. You grew tired. So, very tired. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” His eyes peered curiously at her. She swore they flashed red but that may have been her weariness showing. “I hope you can be comfortable here.”
His gaze was intense. You found it difficult to look away – it caused a dizzying effect on you. Turning away, Miguel and you went back into the house and he escorted you to your quarters. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m really excited to dig in.”
He smiled – all white teeth. “No. I’m pleased to have you here. You have no idea how much.”
When you finally closed your door you let out a slight squeal of excitement. Biting your lower lip, you traced your fingers along the door. You had not expected Mr. O’Hara to look like that. Sure, he was certainly a mature man. The lines on his face told you that he was at least mid-thirties and the way he carried himself like a grown man would. 
God. You didn’t know how you were going to make it out working with such a specimen. You could barely keep it together on the walk! Running your hand over your hair, you went to your laptop bag and pulled the small notebook out. You googled your new boss, disappointed to find nothing much. There was one link that had his name, a record from an archive three hundred years ago. When you clicked it, it bounced back. 
Frustrated, you closed it and decided to just go to bed. 
Weeks passed by, and a monolith of activity passed. You devoted your all to the house but particularly the greenhouse at the back of the property beside the lake. It became a passion project of yours. Lyla and Ben were helpful of course – they made sure that you got all the aid and materials you needed to realise your vision. 
You became closer to the other members of the house. Lyla was kind and a good guide for you. Miguel was something.
It was not that you had an extensive working history but you were quite sure the interest he seemed to pay to you and your tasks were a little extra attention. In some regard, it unnerved you. But in another, you liked the praise and appreciation you received for every task completed. You also didn’t mind being in close proximity to him. There was no denying that Miguel had become a crush of yours and the star of your private fantasies.
Look at him. All harsh angles and sharpness, but his actions, his words were rose petal soft. God. He was a delicious man.
Another thing that struck you as strange was the utter loneliness of the house when the sun was up. When they had called themselves nocturnal creatures, you had merely thought it meant that they slept very late or worked very late in the evening. You were wrong though – they were completely gone during the day. In the afternoons they rose, bright and colourful as your energy dwindled down. 
“Techies,” Lyla had explained. “We work best at night – what can we say!”
It felt like bullshit but the pay was too good for you to make it your business. By the beginning of your third month, you know the place like the back of your hand. Well – most of it but for the wing Lyla had warned you against. One particularly slow day temptation had gotten the better of you. Could your curiosity be blamed for your next act? You crept into the area, floorboard creaking as you looked. It was not a different hallway than the others. 
A painting sat at the edge – but it was too poorly lit for you to see from your end. Squinting, you walked closer. The painting held a tear. It was a woman no doubt, soft-featured but you only saw up to her lower lip on which sat a mole. Something pulled at you. 
You stretched forward, fingertips brushing the dried oil and hanging paper. Pushing it up to see the face, your breathe hitched at the sight. 
The hairs at the back of your neck stood up and your stomach turned. You ran back to the other half of the house, heart speeding in your chest to jump through your ribs. You closed your door – the feeling of your skin getting ready to crawl off your body not leaving. You rubbed your ribs beneath your bosom. 
Everything about that had felt wrong. 
Since you began working here – you hadn’t taken a weekend off. Packing your bag hurriedly, you made a call to your mother, placing her on speaker. It rang for only a few moments.
“Hello, little stranger.”
“Mom – I, I need to come home.”
The panic in your voice set her voice on edge. “Baby? Is everything alright at your job?”
“I just got a bad feeling, Mom. I just need to come home.”
“Okay. Call an Uber.” Logic was your mother’s failsafe in times of duress. 
You shook your head. Ubers didn’t get this far out. You would have to walk a mile into the town to order one or call a taxi. “No. They won’t come here. I’ll head to town and catch something.”
“Call me when you’re there. Okay?” Your mother cautioned. 
“Okay...I will.”
Packing your things took longer than anticipated. You looked at your watch – it was almost five. It usually got dark around six. Shouldering your haversack and duffel bag, you snuck out of the estate and made your walk down the winding road to the town. 
Your bags felt heavy and the road took forever. Eventually, you found a bus stop. It was just about twilight now. The blue sky became a warm orange. Warm day dying into a cool evening. 
You sighed, back hitting the seat of the bench. The app told you the next bus to town was coming in the next twelve minutes. You just needed one ride to the inner city and there you could easily get an Uber home. 
Closing your eyes, you felt relaxed for the first time in an hour. 
You were safe. You were going home. 
***
He knew you were missing the moment the sun had set. 
Miguel had stretched the entire expanse of the property – searching everywhere for you. All of your things were gone from your quarters. Even your dirty laundry was gone. It was still full of your scent. He dug his nose into the rumpled sheets. Lilac and Lily. His talons dug through them – he picked up notes of fear and curiosity. Fear? What had made you fearful?
Miguel went to the abandoned wing. Your scent filled the air. Had you been snooping little girl? The painting. You’d seen your first iteration from so long ago. 
“Lyla,” Miguel roared. “I want everyone on the ground looking for her. She doesn’t leave this town – do you hear me?”
“Louder than necessary but okay.”
He drove from the estate, through the town until he picked up your scent. His talons dug into the steering. Rage fuelled him like no other. Had you really thought you could leave? He thought he could be patient, be kind, and wait you out. Then you left. 
What made you think you had the right?
His journey halted. Miguel retracted his talons and exited, fangs extended as you sat leaning back on a bus bench. About half a mile ahead, he could hear the incoming sound of the bus. You would get the chance. 
“Where do you think you’re going, mi sol?”
You jumped up, eyes wide. “Miguel! How did you?”
“I can find you anywhere.” He said gruffly. “You leave without notice at all your jobs?”
“I, uh, I was just taking the weekend off.”
He clicked his tongue. “You’re lying to me. You were snooping. Come back with me.”
“I’m not going back.” You snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on in that place but it's not natural.”
Miguel grew tired but he knew he couldn’t be heavy-handed. He had to be smart about this. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that go to your family. But know on Monday you’ll still have a job and a home with us.”
You were so easy to lie to that he almost felt bad.
The bus came and he fell back, watching you leave. The bus moved slowly down the dusty road. It was a long ride back to town. He tapped his watch and made a phone call. “Lyla. I need an accident. Now.”
“Fatal or fatale?”
He sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”
“Well, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for you either.”
“Crash the damn bus, Lyla, now.”
“Already sent something that way, bossman.”
“Ayudame dios.”
Keeping up with the bus wasn’t a problem. Through the woodlands, he could see a creation jumping through – all fur and bolts, his favourite hairy bot crashing into the bus from the front, making the driver stop immediately. The wolf sat growing, padding its way to the front sidewheels before he punctured it with his teeth tearing through. The bus leaned to its side, dipping. He watched, from his parked spot, morbidly as the great machine broke the side window, paw reaching in. He heard you scream and smelt the faint scent of your blood. 
Miguel decided it had gone too far then, chasing the creature off. 
The driver of the bus came out first, assessing the damages. You shivered, trembling as you climbed down with your bags on your shoulders. You had been crying. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks. “How long until someone gets out here.”
The driver scratched his head. “Best luck you got is to hitchhike. They’ll come get me in an hour or two. Sorry, darling.”
That was his cue. Miguel started the car and drove by slowly. It was tinted so you excitedly jumped up and down, glad to think it was a kindly stranger. As if he would leave you to be picked up by some ill-thinking stranger.
He stopped, rolling the windows down. “Need a ride?”
You looked stiff with fear. The driver, however, beamed at him. “Oh, sure young man. This lady is heading into town. Think you can give her a ride?”
“Sure I can.” He unlocked the door, pushing it open. Miguel smiled at her, showing his sharp teeth. “Get in.”
Nodding, you hurriedly got into the vehicle. Your curly hair fell to your face as glossy eyes watched him. Miguel turned the radio on and a storm warning came out. 
“What are you?”
“Let’s get back to the estate and then I can explain.” Miguel made a sharp U-Turn and drove past the wreckage, racing back to the property. 
He could smell your fear, the hint of your blood, he looked down seeing a little blood blooming beneath your white dress. It formed a little cloud. He hissed, he hadn’t meant for you to get hurt. “Are you in pain?”
You kissed your teeth instead of responding to him. He sighed. He had expected that – you always, without fail, had a bad attitude when he fucked up. Miguel cursed himself, he should have removed that painting. Why hadn’t he thought clearly? “I didn’t want it to come to this – if you had just let me explain.”
“What is there to explain?”
The estate was coming into view now. Rising like a terrible moon on the horizon.
“It wasn’t you in the painting.” He clarified. “Well, not you. A version of you.”
He punched the code in, the gates opening as he drove up and slamming shut behind the two of you. “That doesn’t make any sense, Miguel.”
You clutched your bags, walking ahead of him as you entered the house. You set them down and Miguel smelt your blood more. “Let me fix you up. Please.”
You flinched but allowed him to lead you to the other side of the house into the very wing that had made you run. Miguel tucked his hands into his pockets. Watching you carefully step ahead. He tried hard not to look at your ass, the switch and sway of the hefty cheeks but he tried to keep his mind on task and out of the gutter.
Which was hard since you looked and smelt like you.
“Are you human?”
“No.”
You gasped, wrapping your arms around you. “Okay.”
Miguel could positively hear your mind working. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed as if to find the answer in his face. Miguel decided to make it easy on you. He opened his mouth, fangs dropped. 
“Shit!”
“Shit.”
A familiar door came up. His hand settled on your waist, stopping you from going further. He felt you shiver under his touch. The faint scent of your arousal wafting upward. His gums shivered. 
“C’mon,” his voice was gruff. “It's right through here.”
It had been decades since Miguel had let anyone but Lyla in. Having you here – where he slept, fed, and worked as a sort of rawness he had missed. He had missed you. Miguel had learned to love this new version of you, you sang as you worked along the house. Danced to pop songs and cooked in the early mornings before the sun rose. 
“Sit here.” he directed you to a chaise lounge, eyes gazing back. “Take the dress off.”
Your lips quivered with a mounting argument but common sense seemed to reign for a moment as you slipped it off. Just watching you made him harden. The black cups of your bra barely keep the fat of your tits in, through the thin lace, he could see the puckered areolas of your breasts. The high waist of your thong dug into the subtle curve of your hourglass figure.
Merida. 
Miguel set the tools down on the bed and cleaned the wound. It wasn’t too deep, just a flesh wound that didn’t need stitches. He brought his thumb to his fang and nicked the skin, pressing the open hole to your wound he smeared it with blood. 
“Jesus Christ…that’s a health code violation.”
He snorted, leaning forward and licking it clean. After his saliva had wiped it off, not even a cut remained. “All better, mi sol.”
“What does that mean?”
“My sn.” he translated. “You’re my sun. Always have been.”
“So you’re a vampire.”
“I’m a vampire.”
You hummed. “And the woman who looks like me in the painting?”
“My wife when I was human.”
“Ah.”
“And I’m a version of her?”
“One of many.”
“Did you kill them?”
“God no.” The idea made his skin burn. “I could never, never hurt you.”
“But you’re a vampire, Miguel. What kind of promise is that?”
“Every time you’ve been in my reach, I loved you until you left me. Until old age took you or until sickness took you.”
Miguel fell to his knees resting his head on your lap. Your face read on incredulity but the fear had vanished from your scent. Curiosity with hints of want. 
“I’m going back to my room.” You stated, picking up your bloodied dress. “And tomorrow night, we’ll talk.”
“Okay.”
***
You couldn’t sleep. When you got back to your room, you shower and change. Texting your mom to know you’re alright. You try to listen to music. To watch a movie. To read but nothing gets you sleep. 
Perhaps it's simply a side-effect of finding out your work for vampires. 
Rain began to pour outside, it was a soothing sound – you blushed as another thought came to mind. There was another way to get you to sleep. Opening your door, you peek outside, making sure the hallway was clear.
Closing your door, you twist the look and step out of your nightshirt and slide your panties off your hips. Digging into one of your bags, tucked at the very bottom was your prize. The blue vibrator stuck out to you. Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you sat at the edge of your bed. Raising one leg and keeping the other down, your legs were spread. 
Your thumb rose the speed to your usual one as you teased your clitoris with it. Eyes closed, you imagined a familiar scenario. Your back against a wall, legs hooked by a faceless strong man. He would take his time with you first. Fucking a thick cock in and out of your wet cunt. 
Your head fell back, as the man in your imagination sped up, fucking you harder. Back hitting the wall. As your height came – you murmured a name and a face appeared in your imagination. 
“Miguel.”
Your climax was instant, spraying wetness onto the edge of the bed, a few droplets dampening the carpet. You set the vibrator aside, collapsing onto the bed. Hands roamed up and down the length of your body, and you vibrated with desire – Miguel’s hands would be bigger than yours, rubbing along your figure, grabbing and biting. He would want you. He would let it be known how much he needed you. 
Your fingers went back to your pussy, rubbing the sticky substance about before slipping a finger in. His fingers would spread you better. Fuck you better. You were sure. 
“You look delicious, mi sol.”
Eyes flickered open – Miguel stood at your door with glowing red eyes and mouth parted in hunger as he stared. His hair was not gelled as usual, falling curls making him look dishevelled. Shamelessly, you added a second finger. The wet sounds grew louder. In the quickness of a blink, he appeared in front of you. He squatted in front of your pussy – inches from your furious fingering.
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come.”
You snapped like a whip. Miguel growled before you, eyes never leaving your wanton form. “Tell me I can touch you.”
“You can touch me.” you whimpered.
He sighed, a hand resting on the mound of your pussy. His thumb stroked your clit. “Tell me I can kiss you, mi cara.”
“Kiss me.”
Miguel’s lips planted themselves on the folds of your pussy. He kissed and sucked, tonguing the insides of you while he strummed your clit. He took his time. Savouring the flavours of your pussy, moaning as he ate and tasted every crevice of you. 
Your fingers threaded his curly hair, gripping them as you ground against his face. His lips sucked on your clit, his hand moving from your mound to your thigh to keep your legs open while two of his thick fingers sawed into you. 
Messily, you sprayed his face, hips moving maddeningly against his pretty face. Miguel sucked it down, licking and nipping at your trembling centre. When he rose, his face was shiny and he grinned down at you. 
“Say you want this.”
How could you not? “I need this.”
You watched with earnestness as he pulled his pants down, slipping them off. His T-shirt went next. His body was better than you had imagined. The bounce of his thick cock. Begging to be made shiny with your pussy.
“Spread yourself for me, baby. Let me see this pretty little pussy.”
Your fingers spread yourself, you watched as he stroked himself, coating the large member with pre-cum. He bowed his head, spitting on your wet cunt. Miguel’s thumb rubbed the saliva in, using two of his fingers to open the weeping carven. Slowly he entered you – his thickness making you gasp. 
Your hands gripped his shoulders, moaning as he bottomed out. You whimpered, groaning as he started to move. Your legs wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders. 
“You’re doing so good, mi sol. Taking my cock so deep.”
His hips snapped, taking his time as you grew used to him. Miguel was certainly bigger than any toy you owned. His cock dragged along you like he was making sure you took him so deep you didn’t know where you ended and he began. 
“Such a good girl. Mi vida. Mi luz.” His hand went to your throat, squeezing it slowly as his eyes stayed on your face. Memorising every O your lips made. It was disconcerting. But when his hips sped up, shaking the bed and making you mewl – you couldn’t care less. 
Miguel’s head bowed, lips to your neck as he kissed his way down to your breasts. You felt his teeth graze the soft flesh of your breasts. He didn’t have to say what he wanted. You wanted it too, you could feel the tremble of your upcoming orgasm. 
“Do it.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Teeth sinking into the flesh and sucking. You creamed his cock, shouting obscenities as your orgasm shuddered through your entire body. Stars dotted your eyes, your toes curled and your bite your tongue so hard it bled.
Miguel’s hips went faster, hips snapping hard into you that it pained you ever so slightly. His cock twitched with an especially vicious plunge, painting your walls with his cum. Fangs retracting, Miguel licked your nipple, lips kissing it as he held you close. 
The high of it all slowly died down. You felt the thickness of his cock and the fullness of his seed. Your fingers traced along his arm. “I’m guessing you’ve been hearing me most nights for the past three months.”
He kissed your sternum and then your lips. It was a passionate kiss. And you realised – your first kiss. How backwards the two of you had done everything. How unjust – because it seemed Miguel was a damned good kisser.
 “And every night I touched myself to your sound.”
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. Miguel smirked. “Aren’t you sore?”
“I’ll worry about that later.”
“As you wish.”
***
“So you’re sure everything is alright now?”
You rolled your eyes, reassuring your mother for the fifth today. It had been a solid week since you’d left and returned. Your mother still didn’t believe it was totally consensually – despite the fact that you had invited her and she’d come and see that you were totally alive and well. 
“You can’t blame your mother for worrying.”
“I know.” Your eyes flickered outside the greenhouse. It was night now. The other members of the house would be up soon. Your mother and you finished talking soon after. It seemed like on cue as you finished the call Miguel came into the greenhouse. Pulling off your muddy gloves, you smiled at him. At your side in and second he kissed your forehead and set his hands around your waist. 
“Hello, mi luz.”
“Hi, baby.” You kissed his mouth. “Did you feed yet?”
He hummed a confirmation, caging you against the desk. Miguel picked up a seed packing, explaining it. “Hibiscus? I don’t think those grew here.”
“Well, they’re not native,” you said. Slipping out from him, you dragged him down to his knees to see a box of soil you’d been working on. “But I’m sure I’ve got the soil mixture down. In the next few months, we’ll see how it goes.”
His hand rubbed along the side of your body. “That’s incredible, baby.”
Standing up, you looked down at him and blushed. “Well, its no machine wolf.”
“Mhmm.” His hands held your hips, squeezing the globes of your ass cheeks. He smacked the fat, groping it unashamedly. His nose pressed to your groin. “You’re an incredible woman. I hope you remember that.”
“Kiss up.”
His eyes flashed, and his lips spread to a mischievous grin. Miguel fell back onto the ground of the greenhouse. You smirked setting legs on either side of your hips. You unbuckled his pants and took his member out. You stroked it, spitting on the tip of it, before rubbing up and down. His hand raised your skirt up, a talon stretching out and cutting the side of your panty off. He pulled it off, baring your pussy against the rough material of your jeans. 
Hips raised, Miguel pulled you onto his cock, grinning as you whimpered at the sudden intrusion of his thickness. Your hands pressed to his hard chest, crying as he fucked up into you. 
Yes, you thought, eyes rolling back, everything was more than alright.
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One of Those Days
poly!mikaelsons x reader | request
summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.
tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort
word count: ~2.6k
a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!
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Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-
“REBEKAHHH!”
-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 
“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”
You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.
There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 
“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 
Your alarm sounds not a second later. 
With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 
See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 
As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 
“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 
“Tired.”
“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”
You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 
“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”
“Ah, I understand.”
His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.
You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 
To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 
“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 
“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”
“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”
“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”
“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”
“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”
Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 
After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 
“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”
You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,
“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”
You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 
You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 
Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.
Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 
“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.
“Mhm?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”
“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”
“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”
“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.
“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”
He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”
“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”
“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”
“I will.”
“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”
“Okay, ‘Lijah.”
He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”
“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”
Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 
You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 
Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 
You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 
You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 
“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.
“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” 
She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”
“Sleeping.”
“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”
“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”
“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”
You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”
“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”
“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 
“Do you want some blood for that?”
“Does that even work like that?”
She shrugs, “not sure.”
You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”
The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”
“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”
You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 
Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.
Hopefully dinner will. 
For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.
But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 
What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 
“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”
“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”
“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 
The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 
“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.
“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”
At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 
Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”
“I’m just stressed.”
“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”
“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”
“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 
“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 
The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 
“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”
“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”
“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”
“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”
“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 
“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”
“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”
“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.
“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”
“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”
Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”
“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”
“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.
“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”
He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”
You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”
354 notes · View notes
imrllytootiredforthis · 10 months
Text
Like a siren's call
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pairing: beomgyu x vampire reader
summary: your voice is sultry, smooth in the kind of way only a vampire’s is. like a siren calling to the sailor. but you’re not completely sure who the siren is at this point,
OR beomgyu goes to a vampire bar in hopes of fulfilling his depraved fantasies
warnings: dom reader, sub beomgyu, biting, blood drinking (it is vampire so what do you expect?), handjob, exhibitionism, reader calls gyu 'little lamb', fingering (m receiving), crying, kissing with blood in mouth (?), gyu in a skirt, possibly more i forgot
word count: 7k
a/n: finally i had time to finish this, from the teaser here, there are a few tiny little changes from the beginning but nothing major. anyway, please ignore my horrible editing skills and feedback is always welcomed, i hope you all enjoy!
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He sits alone at the bar. You can only speculate why, with his pretty face and his pretty body it was a wonder he wasn't responding to the hungry eyes eating him up; including your own, unfortunately.
He seems bored, disinterested as he swirls the liquid around in his glass mindlessly.
Too bad, really. You could really bring some life (heh) to his night if he let you. You'd gladly take on the challenge. He was exactly the reason you’d come here tonight.
For him. For his type.
Nothing piqued your interest like the way he held himself. How he looked innocent and pure in an alluring kind of way despite his appearance, which spoke quite the opposite. His features feminine and gentle in a way that drove you wild.
He caught the eye immediately with glittery makeup that shimmered in the strobing lights of the club; drawing in the attention of passersbys like a siren, eyes stuck on him for the brief moment before they continued on with their night.
With the way plenty had looked at him you were surprised that no one had approached him yet. You were even more surprised that you hadn’t gotten up already. 
Something inside of you told you to wait though, told you to play a little with him, make him work for it. Something you couldn’t quite place screamed that he often got what he wanted-and you had never one to play with your meal but just maybe once it would be a bit of fun.
With a little bit a vivid imagination and a special something you'd told the bartender to slip into your drink you could practically see it. How much more gorgeous he would look when he begged, with tears in his eyes too, cheeks flushed.
Tongue swiping over your teeth, you wonder if he's here for what you assume he is. To fulfill the reason that you came here tonight...or if your fangs would send him running in the opposite direction.
Who were you kidding though?
He's obviously here for a reason and with the way he's only leisurely sipping the drink in his hand you doubt it's only for that. You hope it's not only for that.
Crazy hot and seductive as shit, hopefully by choice, all you've been wanting all night was for him to look at you. He hasn't though and you're beginning to wonder if you should cut your losses and call it a night.
It's not common for you to be this...infatuated with a human but there's something different about him, something special that you can't shake.
And you only realize that your stare is so obvious, so shameless when he can feel it from across the bar, looking up so his eyes catch on your own.
He stiffens in his seat, looking startled but certainly not uncomfortable by any means. Flickering from your eyes to your mouth and then down to the rest of you, he takes it all in with another sip.
And ever so slowly you allow yourself to do the same, for probably the millionth time tonight already. Gaze dragging over the length his body, appreciating every little thing as they trail lower and lower.
He’s gorgeous, for a human and for a vampire as well; he clearly relishes in knowing the fact, with little details that only accentuate it.
A choker that sits snug against the smooth skin of his throat. One of the cute pink ones with the little metal heart placed in the front. Pale, unmarked skin moving beneath it, throat bobbing as he takes chugs down the rest of his drink and calls for another. Skin that's practically begging to be claimed.
By you? Well, only if the pretty thing would let you.
Really, it's more of a question of what you wouldn't do to him if he would let you.
The barely noticeable detail on the short skirt he’s wearing stands out to you. It's definitely not the length of it that calls your attention to it. The thing nearly short enough to be called scandalous but just breaks as passing with society’s expectations. 
And lastly, but very certainly not in the least when it comes to this human, the knee-high boots make up for the length of his skirt as well as the thigh highs he’s clearly wearing underneath, little frills peeking out from where they end. Almost obsessively, your eyes rake down the delicious sliver of thigh that they reveal. 
He focuses back at you now, looking like he expects for you to look ashamed at being caught, after all, you were boring holes into him.
But to his surprise, you don’t. You hold steady and continue your unabashed stare.
He flushes, as pretty as the rest of him, face downturned to the bar, hair falling just so.
He tugs a lip between his lips, perhaps unconsciously or maybe not. The mischievous twinkle in his eye argues for the latter.
You’d never excelled at understanding human emotions, much less read them off a pretty human boy’s face.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Your eyes. The deep shade of crimson they take on. The exact colour of blood. The exact colour of the essence that runs just beneath his skin.
They should really scare him more than anything.
They should make his skin crawl and make him feel the urge to run for the hills. Away from you. Away from everything that you could do to him if you wanted to. 
The things that he wants you to do to him. But that's really not the point.
That's the first thing Beomgyu notices.
The way they bore into him, the crimson darkening by several shades to an entirely new kind of red. His skin crawls, invisible bugs scurrying over his body. Heat swells, filling him up to the brim-did they turn the heat up in here? They had to have turned the heat up.
Goosebumps break across the exposed skin of his thigh, a shiver runs up his spine, zinging him but not for the reasons they should.
You look away all too soon, shifting your focus to the bartender in front of you, leaving Beomgyu feeling weirdly cold once again.
He was kind of hoping you’d approach him. Sure, he could approach you, he would’ve but he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was more prey than hunter. After all, why else would he be here?
You’re gorgeous, all skin and grace, seductive while you playfully roll your eyes at the man in front of you. Your lips curl up into a smile and there they are. 
Your fangs. Perfect ivory and considerably long, he could only imagine how deep they would bury inside his skin. How good they would feel-how good he’d heard they’d feel at least. 
Beomgyu wondered how it would feel, how much it would hurt before everything else would take over, he wasn’t particularly against pain so that wasn’t much issue. He wondered how your lips would taste, how he’d taste to you.
Human blood tasted and smelt different to every vampire, some more desirable, some less. He hoped you found him desirable, and with the way you’d looked at him, dark and intense and hungry.
The amber liquid in his glass burns down his throat but makes his body feel all the less tense, all the more free. This was his second and last drink of the night. He’d heard it was better to stay mostly sober for these kinds of things. There was no saying what someone’s intentions could be and he didn’t want to turn up dead in the alley next door tomorrow. 
Besides, even if this was his second day coming here and still, he hadn't been approached, his hopes of something happening tonight weren’t completely squashed yet.
Not with the way he could feel your eyes on him again, not subtle in the least, shameless in a way that drove him a touch insane.
His thighs rub together, trying to quell the heat lighting between them. Welcoming and also trying to reject the thought of how you would look at him, just like that, in a different kind of setting.
Beomgyu has no idea how, but you seem to notice the imperceptible movement, eyes flickering down to watch as your tongue peeks out to wet your lips.
He sits up straighter, flustered by the look, looking away and hoping you don't somehow notice the blush flooding his face. Using the opportunity to survey the busy venue. 
It was definitely one of the more popular blood bars in the city, one of the better funded ones and the patrons only proved it. Humans and vampires alike dressed lavishly, screaming of an old kind of wealth. Showy-offy in a way that begged the eye not to look away. 
The people here were certainly well off and that was obvious. Practically dripping in jewels and riches, many scantily clad and wearing nearly nothing at all, yet still looking expensive. 
He was glad that he’d gone with his gut to overdo instead of underdo. His roommate had frowned when he saw Beomgyu leaving the apartment, asking him if that was really what he was wearing.
Beomgyu had never taken much mind to being slut-shamed, if anything that meant that the skirt was just the right length but these words almost made him turn back to his room and change into something more 'suitable'.
He's glad he didn't. He fits in more like this and the outfit, as well as the makeup certainly garnered its fair-share of wanted attention.
“Can I get you anything?”
The bartender was a tall man, lithe and nearly able to pass as a human before his winning customer service smile revealed the fangs hidden just beneath his lips.
“No, I’m good, thank you.”
The man-vampire followed Beomgyu's line of sight, settling on you. "Is there anything else I can get you? Perhaps a name or a number?"
Beomgyu looked back at him, slightly horrified at the thought. "No!" he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover the outburst. "Uh-no, no, that's okay. I'm good, really."
He smiled politely and the bartender nodded, "Okay then just call me over then if you need anything else."
His eyes were back on you the second he was gone. But you haven't looked back yet, instead talking with the other bartender across.
Beomgyu can’t help but find himself slightly disappointed.
His friend Yeonjun had recommended he come to this place. Technically Yeonjun’s partner had. 
He had been pleasantly surprised to find that Yeonjun was dating someone when he saw him after all these years. He was even more shocked to find out that he was dating a vampire. He was never that close to Yeonjun but his mom was friends with Beomgyu’s and he certainly remembered his immense fear of vampires from then.
People could change though of course and Beomgyu was never one to judge especially on the topic, he wondered but didn't care enough to ask.
The only real reason that they had rekindled was because Beomgyu had just moved to the area and Yeonjun needed someone else to pay the rent. On those terms an easy arrangement was made.
He quickly moved in with the two of them. It wasn’t the best situation that he could find himself in but certainly wasn’t a bad one. 
Their apartment was small to have three people living in it and the walls were much too thin for the activities that his two roommates engaged in (Yeonjun really was too loud for his own good) but otherwise they were okay roommates and showed him around the city like his own personal tourguides. 
Either way, Beomgyu started his search to get out of there pretty quickly. He did like Yeonjun, despite the fact that he's a little bit too uptight and a little bit too overbearing, he found his partner to be quite interesting.
They were the one to tell him about this place, an exclusively night bar where they worked. It was supposed to be quiet and relatively safe compared to some of the other places like this in the city, partially because of the rich patrons. 
It was one of the clubs for vampires who wanted to feed and humans that wanted to be fed from and Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his interest was piqued. 
He’d always had a weird obsession with their kind. It was an embarrassing subject for him. He’d grown up in a small town where the topic was taboo at least, and being shunned from the community at worst. The idea of engaging with vampires was worse than watching porn or going to the strip club, more like the type of thing that parents would kick their children for thinking about. 
It was one of the reasons he was so surprised that Yeonjun had decided to date one.
In the bigger cities though, like this one, vampires were more common and people were less afraid. There was less stigma to stereotypes and misconceptions than the small towns had.
But it was odd that so quickly his perception had changed. He’d thought he’d gotten over it a long time ago, thought that it had been quelled ever since that documentary in school about "The Truth About Vampires-Parasites! Soulless bloodsuckers!". It scared the shit out of him and from then on he vowed that he wouldn't be caught dead searching up vampire porn on his laptop ever again.
Until he got here. Beomgyu couldn’t help the way his body heated up when Yeonjun told him about how it felt to be drunk from. How it felt down from the little prick of pain when their fangs entered the skin to how intoxicating, how high-inducing and euphoric it felt.
It led to the fantasy reappearing in his dreams the next night and a very tense silence between the him and Yeonjun the next day as they nursed terrible hangovers. Where Yeonjun had his partner to take care of him afterwards though, as Beomgyu heard through the too thin walls later that night, all Beomgyu had were his thoughts
Maybe he was a perv. A freak, or a degenerate. For taking up the offer from Yeonjun’s partner to be driven here. For coming here to fulfill his depraved fantasies he'd sworn off a long time ago. But seeing as there was this many other humans lounging around the room. Dancing and drinking and being fed from out in the open or being dragged to a back room, he could feel just a little bit normal.
If tonight didn’t work out either, he wouldn’t mind coming here another night to try again. Though he could only hope that he’d see you tomorrow.
He didn’t know what it was, but something about you he couldn’t quite shake, he couldn’t quite-he looked up again to see you gone. The space where you sat empty.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you look a little lonely.”
His attention snaps up in an instant.
His head reels as he registers the red eyes looking down at him, the way that you seemed to be bemused at his speechlessness.
“Um, I-“ 
You seem to have nothing but amusement toward his reaction. Unfazed as you gesture towards the stool next to him. “Is this seat taken?”
“Yes.” you look almost shocked as he says the word, disappointed in a way that makes him think that the infatuation was mutual. “By you.” Beomgyu isn’t quite sure where he gets the confidence to say that but the words come either way.
And they’re almost enough to make you laugh, but not quite. You take a seat, angling your body towards his.
The silence is brief, a few seconds of you surveying him once again but this time a bit closer, a bit more intimate as you reach for the frills on the hem of his thigh-highs, playing with it as he tries his best not to flinch.
Instead of emanating any kind of body heat it’s cold, like a chill coming out of your skin that feels good against in the humid stuffy air of this place.
“So, what’re you here for?”
The question has an easy answer, and that is to get fucked up, not necessarily sex, but he’s heard that a vampire drinking from someone feels like something akin to an orgasm only better than that. He can’t say that though, it’s crude and though he has no trouble being labelled a slut, he doesn’t want you to think that he’d open his legs for anything with fangs.
So instead, “Eh, a new crowd I guess.”
Not entirely a lie, it was a change of scenery, but then again everything about the city was.
Here vampires were allowed to walk free instead of being run out of the town and humans weren’t ostracized for befriending or even getting romantically involved with one.
His parents would disown him if they even knew he was here tonight.
“Meet some new people, see some of the things I wouldn’t see at home.”
The way you look at him is skeptical. You obviously don’t believe the shit coming out of his mouth. Your hand slips higher. “Really now? A new crowd? That’s it?” 
No. That’s not just it and Beomgyu’s a tad embarrassed that you can see through him so easily but the feeling is easily overpowered by the want to throw himself at you.
He sucks in a breath, heart thumping so hard he’s sure you can hear. You let out a puff of air. Clearly you’re ready for this game to end, tired of him playing hard to get and done feeding into it. 
“You don’t want something maybe a bit…more?” Your voice lowers a few octaves, sultry and smooth.
Like a siren calling to the sailor. Hypnotizing and mesmerizing.
Neither of you are too sure who the siren is at this point though.
It could be the vampire and to Beomgyu, it is. Captivating eyes and sharp fangs, lulling voice that sings to him like no other. All vampires that have that kind of weird alluring quality to them but yours is different, yours is something else entirely.
The human maybe as well. The one that you haven’t been able pull your eyes away from all night. Pretty makeup and pretty clothes. His scent like chocolate and a dash of vanilla. A human unlike any other you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.
Throat dry, eyes fixated in places they shouldn’t be, he nods and you watch his throat bob, that vein in his neck bulging.
Before he realizes what’s happening, your lips are next to his ear, “Look, little lamb,” His body stiffens at the name you've decided to give him. “I am here for something, and with the way that you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, I’m sure that you are too.” you cut off, smiling as you mouth at his skin, “So let’s cut to the chase. Are you on the same page that I am?”
Nails dig into his flesh and he gasps, jumping in his seat, looking shocked and a little turned on before shifting as close as he possibly can considering the fact that you’re on two separate barstools. “Yes, I—I think so,” 
“So…you wouldn’t mind if I just…” his gasp rings out, heart skipping a beat as you pull him into your lap, perching him so he’s straddling your thighs. His face so, so close to yours. He can feel your breath on fanning across his cheeks and lips. He could count each of your individual eyelashes if he wanted. Your eyes flicker down. “If I just kissed you? Until you’re breathless and panting against me, all weak and needy?” He can feel your nose brushing against his. “Leave you trembling and shaking, begging me for more, pleading for me not to stop…would you mind?”
That’s it. He’s short-circuited, eyes unfocused, a haze already taking over. “Please.” is all he can come up with but you don’t seem deterred at all by the fact.
“Good.”
He can hardly believe this is happening. Hardly believe that you’re real. A long-lived fantasy from ever since he was a teenager and stumbled upon porn brought to real life, right in front of him. Groping him, in the middle of a bar, calling him a little lamb, pulling him into your lap. In front of the entire bar.
He’s so hard, it hurts. He hopes you don’t notice. Or maybe he hopes you do.
He wants you to kiss him hard, bite and shred up his lips before you move down, using him in any way that you want, he won’t complain, he’ll be so, so good.
You lean closer and his eyelids slip shut, awaiting for your lips on his…they never meet. They’re on his neck instead, licking up and nipping at the shell of his ear, dragging down his jaw. “Tell me what you want, tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
“I-i…” He can’t think properly, you’re a fucking wet dream to him. You’re offering him all he’s ever wanted and he can’t think of anything but your fangs against his fucking neck. “S-shit,” He twitches, throbs. “Mark me, bite me.” He’s desperate, clutching onto you like you’ll disappear any second and he’ll be robbed of the chance he’s been so desperate for all his life. Of you and your scent and your mouth. “I-please-make me bleed, k-kiss me with my blood in your mouth, make me taste myself,”
“Mhm, okay, that can be arranged”, you whisper, nails digging in to grab more of his thigh. He shivers and watches pervertedly as your tongue peeks out from between your lips to wet them. “Y’know, I don’t want you to feel pressured, you can say no and I’ll let you leave,” You mutter. “I promise you’ll make it back home tonight-alive, that is.”
You laugh at your own joke, awaiting for his answer-verbally-and not just him whining like a like clingy whore. Or grinding down against you like he’s your own personal lap dance, chasing for that spark of pleasure with a sharp keen. 
He squirms pathetically in your lap, Clutching onto you, off in his own world. “A-ah, y-yes,” his cheeks are so flushed, his legs so tense in your hands. “G-god, anything! I promise, I’ll be good!”
What an offer.
You could hardly take a pass on it, hardly ignore this pretty thing. 
Others around the room pervertedly watch, getting ready for a show in the middle of the bar, hardly a rare occurrence but it’s not your style. You don’t like to share your things. And for tonight this human boy is yours. 
Only yours.
Without a word, you’re pushing him off your lap, ignoring his anguished cry and bratty groan as you grip his wrist. He squeaks. It’s firm but not painful, tugging him towards an almost hidden exit door. 
“Wha-“
“Shh, just follow my lead.”
So he does, following behind with few words of complaint. Not that he can think of much anyway, not around the cloud of lust that feels like cotton in his head.
Before his mind catches up to what’s going on you’re out in the alleyway beside the bar. A light flickers at the end of the street, far off from where you are, just barely illuminating your eyes that stare down at him hungrily.
Pressing his hips down you shove his shivering body against the dirty wall. He can feel grit and moss and something that feels wet soaking into the fabric of his skirt.
He would normally complain, complain but unlike he normal, he doesn’t mind. Because under your watch he can’t help the way his heartbeat quickens, heart working on overtime as the adrenaline begins to take over.
His jaw fits perfectly in your hand and his eyes flutter before slipping shut, leaning into your cool touch as your thumb delicately explores over the ridges of his face, down his cheekbone and over his lips. 
He’s so warm. You can’t help but marvel at him, tracing the creases of his eyes, wiping some of the glitter down the side of his face. He shudders out a breath and you smile, like a cat that’s caught a bird. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna ruin all of this,” his skin is almost scalding. Different. A warmer touch than you’ve felt in a long time. “Make you cry, make all of your pretty makeup run.”
“Please,” he breathes, he begs, raw desire pouring into the singular word. “Please do.”
He’s been so patient. So good for you. A good little toy to your teasing. You suppose he should get a little reward for his troubles.
You watch in fascination as he sighs shakily, hot breath starting to come out in pants. His heart pounds wildly in your ears and you quickly scan over him for the cause.
You quickly find it.
You.
Standing over him as he tightly clings to you. Like he never wants you to leave. His eyes open slightly, wide and needy, your pokerface slipping into a smirk you can’t hold back. 
His body shivers in anticipation and your eyes once again find that tiny sliver of thigh exposed, pale skin, unblemished calling out to you like an invitation.
To touch, to squeeze, to explore.
To bite, hopefully.
He jumps when you to touch him, from the cold, he tells himself. 
He swears he hears you growl when you make contact but he can’t hear very well over the sound of the city. Nails graze the skin before quickly skipping over where you’d already been. Toying with the hem of his skirt and then sliding under, up higher. 
His panting gets heavier. His head falls into the crook of your neck with a pathetic whine, hot puffs of air caressing your skin.
He’s hot and heavy in your hand, underwear a forgone piece of clothing for tonight.
“Slut.” You hiss. He throbs, pre cum leaking all over your hand as he grits his teeth, trying not to fuck himself into your hand like he so badly wants. “You can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” you whisper, “just needed someone to do it for you.” Your hand tightens around him and he chokes out a moan followed by a sob. “Right little lamb?”
Your tone is so menacing, it’s so hot. The cool outside air is nothing compared to his feverish skin.
It seems, the only thing that could cool him down is you.
“Wanna fuck up into my hand?” He’s so wet it makes it so easy for your hand to move along the length of him. “Wanna cum?” 
Beomgyu loves this kind of teasing, though he’d never admit it. He loves the fact that you take some kind of wicked pleasure in making him all red, that he knows you want to make him nothing more than a begging writhing mess tonight.
Teasing is his forte. Edging is his favourite pastime. He can take this.
But really, as much as he wants to savour this, you’re right. He really, really, really wants to cum. Already, so quickly it’s almost embarrassing. He just wishes that you’d hurry it up already. 
That you’d give up the act and slip to your knees in front of him.
Instead you squeeze his cock, thumb toying over the tip. Beomgyu gasps, tongue needily moving against your neck, licking over the smooth, oddly cold juncture, nipping and whining before moving over to your jugular.
He shivers when he feels no pulse there.
“Tell me what you want little lamb.” He wants so many things. Too many things.
“I need it.” Every ounce of need is poured into the three words, a whine and a beg and a plea all mixed into one. His body shaking with desire.
“Do you now?” You tease.
“Yes, yes, yes, please,” His voice is muffled and it’s hard not resist the urge to dig your nails into his scalp, force him to look at you, so you can see his pretty face and glossy eyes while you make him fall apart. His noises are just as pretty though, straight into your ear, a chill running down your spine at the contrast of your body’s temperature versus the heat of his breath. So just this once you’ll let him. 
For now you’ll just rest your fingers in his hair, scratching his scalp lightly in a way that makes him purr and shudder, muffled moans reverberating against your skin.
“You that worked up already? That easily, huh?”
“So easy, just a toying with your cock for a little bit? Or is it the fact that we’re out here?” you coo. His breath hitches as you pull his skirt down just over his hips. He stiffens, worried for a second that you’re going to strip him down completely in this alleyway. 
Where someone could so easily see the two you. 
Where a worker could come to take the trash out. 
Where a drunken patron could wander out. 
Where more vampires could find you.
Why does that thought sound so good?
He cuts off into a hiss, biting down on his lips so hard he can taste blood trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape.
“Oh, is that it? Want someone to come out, watch me make a mess of you?” everything screams at him to nod, to scream out the truth but he doesn't. He only whimpers while biting down on his lip.
“Oh, you’re so close…Makes me wonder if I should slow down, give you a break?” He shakes his head insistently, frantically, devastated at the very thought. You sigh over-dramatically-as if he didn’t give you the very reaction that you wanted. “Okay then tell me how you feel little lamb. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
You’re tortuous. You’re making head spin and his blood boil with need. You’re smirking all the while and enjoying his desperate whimpers into your ear, getting all worked up. 
You’re mean. You’re so, so mean. And he loves it.
He can’t vocalize it though, can’t find his voice or get out the words stuck in his throat.
Guess you’ll have to force them out of him then.
Beomgyu lets himself be pulled off of you, allowing you to push him back against the wall harder so that every inch of his back is pressed against it. And despite the squeak of indignation of being pushed away from you he seems more than happy about this rough handling.
Even more so as you fall to your knees in front of him.
With the view of you standing below him, hungry eyes searing on his skin, focusing on every vantage point. 
His neck, his wrists, his thighs.
He feels as if he’s been burnt wherever you stare too long, skin on fire but it’s okay, okay because the pain somehow makes it so much better.
“You just gonna stare at me all night?”
Finally your attention flicks back up to his face, taking in his blown out pupils and lustful expression. “And what if I do?” 
“You love the attention, don’t you?” Fingers slide along the hem of his thigh highs. “Love it when I look at you,” he gasps when he feels you rip the flimsy fabric, too far gone to be pissed, to even cry out in indignation before it’s replaced with your lips. 
His body convulses as you kitten lick a long stripe from where the now ruined hem is all the way to where his thigh meets his hip. “You love it when you know that I’m thinking about you.”
Your breath is cold against his cock as you blow air at it, devoid of the usual warm brush of air he’s used to. “Do you wanna know what I think about you? Hear about all the ways I want to ruin you?”
His hands clench and unclench in intervals. He wants to touch you so bad, wants to feel your hair between his fingers, brush his thumb over the cool skin of your face and lips.
He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch though. He’s not willing to risk it if he knows there’s a chance you’ll stop. He wants this so bad, fuck, he really does. He wants it more than anything else in the world-and he has the chance right now! He has the vampire between his legs, teeth grazing his thighs.
He has the means and the want and the opportunity…but it’s up to you in the end.
“Please don’t stop,” he pleads, rolling his hips up, “I-I’ll die without it.” 
You bark out a laugh and that’s all he hears before he watches, eyes wide as your teeth sink into his skin and you’re groaning, gulping down like a starved animal. Beomgyu swears he sees white, or black, or…he can’t really tell but the breath is sucked from his lungs. His fingers claw desperately at the alley wall, trying to find some sort of sanity in the pleasure.
A whorish cry is ripped from his lungs, deaf on his own his ears as ecstasy and pain together and intertwined, one and the same take over his entire body.
He feels like he’s been set it on fire, like he’s been dipped into molten lava or some shit equivalent that his head can’t wrap around.
It’s intense-so fucking intense-Yeonjun downplayed it so much. But then again, absolutely nothing could get him ready for this.
His ears ring and his legs shake as if they’re about to give out. His posture is kept up only from the wall firm behind his back and your hands holding onto him so tightly he’s positive there will be bruises in their place tomorrow. 
It feels like he’s cumming but a hundred times more intense, no-a million times-more. He can’t breath, oh fuck, he can’t breath.
His lungs scream for air, but he doesn’t remember how to use them. He feels like he’s been winded, all the oxygen knocked out of him.
Everything aches and everything feels so good. His hands finally clench into your hair and he can feel your lips suctioning at his skin like you were trying to leave a hickey, only he knows there will be much more left behind than just a bruise.
He’s only vaguely aware that he must sound like some sort of dying animal with the way he howls in pleasure, strangled cries released into the night one after another.
He must look like one too with how his hands grasp at your hair, nearly clawing at your scalp, desperately searching for some way to stabilize his sanity that is slowly slipping away with how good this fucking feels.
Your nose nudges against his heated skin, lips suckling, groaning around the area as you continue to drink more and more until he feels so lightheaded he’s worried he’s going to pass out.
And then you let him go. 
Beomgyu groans in relief or in disappointment, he doesn’t know. He stares down at you: makeup smeared, drool dripping, hands clutching. He focuses on your stained red teeth, eyes dazed and sharp.
“Did you just cum?”
His hips buck, a meek whine escaping. He nods. But it’s not enough cumming once, not anywhere near enough, he’s still hard and throbbing for your touch. It’s almost as if he can feel the venom of your bite working through his system, corrupting and taking over everything, making his head spin as he arches his back slightly, presenting himself to you for further exploration. 
“Please don’t stop, god, I need you so bad~” he’s whiney and he’s adorable, his words slurred, his cheeks pink. “I w-wan’ you to explore every inch of me,” You look up at him, speechless, head filling with thoughts of bloodlust and his body as his hips chase nothing but air, moaning all the while. “Don't hold back, I want to feel everything." 
“Really, little lamb? Everything.” You taunt, before you stand, coming face to face with him and finally your lips slam against his, harsh and almost aggressive, fingers knotting into his hair, pushing him closer like you’re trying to consume him.
The taste of iron fills his mouth and he whimpers, clinging onto your shoulders, knees weak at the realization. Warm tears spill down his cheeks but you’re quick to wipe them away with your fingers, succeeding in smudging the last bits of his makeup to hell.
“Fuck you’re so pretty,” you mutter, sucking his tongue into your mouth, drool and spit making a mess everywhere. “I just wanna eat you alive,” the words are sent directly between his legs as your hands slip under his skirt once more, rubbing at his taint before falling back a bit more.
Beomgyu’s eyes slip shut, pulling away from the kiss, knocking his head back against the alley wall with a wanton whine. “P-put them in-please, put them in.” He chokes out.
First you bring your fingers up and shove them into his mouth, collecting a disgusting amount of saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. “Suck.” He does, with a fervent desire, whimpering and swirling his tongue around them as if they were a dick.
Then they’re back where they were before.
He shakes, eyes finding yours with a mix of desire and submission in them. "Please...please put your fingers inside me," he begs, low and needy as he spreads his legs wider for you. "I-I want to feel you inside me...I need it so badly," he grinds down, desperate for your touch.
He lets out a soft gasp as your finger enters him; slow and steady. "Yes...just like that. Deeper. Fuck, feel so full~”
You scissor your fingers, and all composure is lost as he moans loudly at the feeling. No words come to mind, nothing can be said, only be felt.
You find his prostate with ease, pressing down on it, making your little lamb scream into the empty alley, his voice hoarse and gravelly as he pleads mindlessly, hips snapping forward so much you have to pin them against the wall.
“Yeah? That feel good? Having my fingers so deep inside you, huh?” He nods eagerly, his body shaking as you press down on his prostate. He's panting heavily now, barely able to form words.
Beomgyu loses himself in the sensation of your fingers deep inside him. He feels on the edge, his body shaking with pleasure as he grips onto you tightly, nails scratching at your skin though he knows that it’ll do nothing. "Yes...yes I'm so close," he gasps out between moans and twitches.
His walls clench around you as you add a third one in, almost as if they’re sucking you in deeper and deeper. 
He's barely able to stand up straight, his legs trying to spread wider, his skirt restricting room until in one swift move you rip a slit all the way up. His gasp is shocked. He'll be angry at you later. But not now as you take his knee in your free hand and throw it around your hip, giving you more access to press even harder against his prostate.
Beomgyu’s eyes roll back in bliss as you abuse the spot over and over. Waves of pleasure crashing over him, he looks up at you with a pleading expression in his eyes, his fingers gripping tightly onto your shoulders. "Please...please let me cum," he begs in a low, husky voice. "I need it so badly...let me cum for you," he pleads desperately, his body quivering with anticipation, so close to exploding he can’t think straight.
“Cum.”
He cries out as the flood bursts through, lost in the moment now, vaguely aware of anything except for the mind-blowing pleasure coursing through his veins. "Oh god...yes!"
His orgasm seems to last an eternity, every inch of his being exploding with pleasure. You're sure that everybody inside bar has heard you now, that your pretty boy was too loud, that he is still too loud as he pants and shudders against you, dumb with pleasure as his cum soaks into the fabric of his skirt and drips down his thighs and your arms.
You’d clean it up for him if he weren’t holding onto you so tightly, ensuring that you can’t move. Well, you could move if you really wanted to, but you don’t want to.
Instead, no words are exchanged as you slowly move your arms up, wrapping around his waist in return. He looks up at you, eyes bleary and unfocused, drooping shut drowsily.
You sigh, realizing that you’ll have to take care of him for the rest of the night whether that be trying to figure out where he lives or taking him back to your own. 
He sighs dreamily, breathing getting slower as he drifts off. Still covered in cum and drool, smudged makeup on his face and blood stained on his lips.
He's the siren and you're the sailor, there could be no other way. He lured you in and you had not a hint that you'd be trapped with him for however long he wanted you after that.
Pushing back the sweaty hair that sticks to his forehead, you smile, unable to bring yourself to be the slightest bit upset about it.
Either way, he’ll wake up tomorrow morning, completely fucked up and you're sure that you’ll be there to nurse him through it.
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a/n: ignore the way the smut is more than half of the fic😇, hope you all enjoyed it! I'm kinda teasing around the idea of doing the rest of txt w either vampire reader OR w them being the vampire though if i did it probably wouldn't be out for awhile with everything else i'm doing.
anyway, taglist (going by people who specifically asked to be tagged so sorry if you wanted to be tagged and weren't): @d7dream, @fairyofshampgyu, @pink-tea, @goquokka, @maru-matt, @esther-kpopstan, @bitehee, @k-femdove, @snowballbear, @sanasour, @yongboksgf, @paeng0rl, @mysoob, @hobihearteu, @laylasbunbunny, @lemonhongjoong, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay,
my official taglist is here
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Hey there! So I’ve just recently gotten into Lost Boys, and was wondering if you could write a short where they meet the reader by saving them from the train during the bridge scene? Poor reader is just hanging onto Dwayne for dear life, begging for him not to drop her. And they’re all tryna be funny and make her laugh so she’s less scared. And then they take her home and she’s left flustered cause four hot guys actually talked to her lol.
Our hearts hold you little bat
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warning : fluff&comfort, tiny angst, implied flirting
info : Four hot guys that are also vampires what a dream. Happy that you recently gott into tlb. I was very happy writing this for your dear anon. So I hope you like it and have fun reading, everyone else too ;)
masterlist
In a town like Santa Carla, it felt like there were only three things to do. You walked along the beach and swam in the sea, you went to the funfair and listened to music or you simply walked through the town and nature in the hope that something would happen.
But your choice fell into the third category. In a town like Santa Carla, she had visited the beach thousands of times, sunbathed in the water and enjoyed diving, which had only led to a few small fish that got boring after ten times.
The funfair and the concerts that would take place almost every weekend. Even after hundreds of thousands of visits, they were still entertaining and she liked dancing, eating cotton candy and singing with her friends and family.
But everything becomes too much at some point and she found that the night in this city slightly outside where you could have your peace and quiet was so much better. Peace and quiet is good too she thought as she looked up at the moon in the background as she turned to the beach which was still lit up, she could still hear the music, the saxophone being played could still be heard here.
"Like my own background music," she quipped and continued along the path, still old but still in use, it seemed to fit everything here. It was the height of strange people in the city while she also saw herself among them, but what was normal in this city?
She knew that she could get scared just as well as the other young adults, children and teenagers. ,,Not the murder capital of the world for nothing," she muttered as she walked along the path and saw the old bridge that Hlz and metal had seen for decades and probably years.
A beautiful constuction that stood under the stars, a constuction with history. History of the place she was interested in the place she was interested in. But one look at the party on the beach made her realize again that although she was having fun, she hadn't found a boyfriend or a relationship here yet, it wasn't that there weren't any dates but it had never happened in any way. She didn't really know how and the boys didn't want to.
But she shook off the thought, the wood creaked under her shoes, the metal seemed to tense up, but not because of her, was it? Something she didn't think about because the only thing she could never remember was when the train was coming. Running her hands over the railing, she didn't see the figures below her, the four beings, the handsome creatures in the form of four boys.
Enjoying the view, she looked at the beach, the city lights, the stars in the sky and the moon. It was a beautiful moment in the darkness of the evening. But this beautiful moment was interrupted by a fibrillation that brought her out of her thoughts as she looked beside her. ,,Oh shit!" she exclaimed as she caught the light and started to run.
She knew the bridge was long, the wood was rotten, the metal was rusty and the path wouldn't take her home straight away. It was as if, for the first time in this town, she was feeling terrified in the face of death. The pleading and running she could hear the horn, the light coming closer and the rattling of the wheels rumbling in her chest.
,,Come on fuck please just a little more" she mumbled but something inside her told her that she couldn't outrun a train traveling several hours and miles. A cry of fear escaped her as she closed her eyes and realized that she was not going to be caught by the train for a second when she suddenly felt arms around her.
Arms that were under a leather jacket, a dark leather jacket with a leopard on the sleeve and a bare torso underneath. ,,Wh-What?" she mumbled as she realized she wasn't caught in the train. But she screamed when she saw the ground beneath her and clung to someone. A person in the air? Confused, she looked at the man who looked at her with a slightly amused grin.
,,I've got you," he said calmly and she clawed at the scratching post like a cat, but the stranger didn't seem to mind. ,,Oh, Dwayne, don't be so shy... hey, sweetheart, do you have to scare us like that?" she heard a voice and looked carefully beside her, clawing even more at Dwayne, who was still holding her like she was nothing. A blond man flew next to them, long blond voluminous hair and a smile on his lips as he put his hand on hers.
,,You're flying? What-what are you Superman?" she asked, still not understanding what was going on, it was like a shadow the four of them. She had seen these four before on the solid but always just like a shadow. A damn good-looking shadow.
A laugh came from the four of them which made her squirm and she made a startled sound as one flew headlong towards her. ,,Don't hate, just grin I mean look at the view...besides I'm Marko, volumen hair is Paul and there in front is David" said the one with the curly hair and she saw the last of the four. She saw the light blond spiky hair, the leather coat and the glimpses of the cigarette.
,,Marko's right, sweetheart... enjoy this night view until you're back on the ground, don't want it to be uncomfortable," David said and gave her a grin as he joined his group. She tried to concentrate on the view, even though she kept looking back at the four of them.
Marko grinned at her and tried to tell her stories, Paul made bad jokes, David offered her a cigarette every now and then and talked about something, and Dwayne praised her for how well she was doing. The beauty of the creatures no it wasn't true she had seen the pointy fangs. These four beautiful vampires were really the best part of the night.
At some point it was quite nice to see the city from above and especially Dwayne's hands still holding her. She gave the four of them her address as the morning slowly threatened to come again and they flew there.
Luckily for her, she had left her window open because having to explain to her parents why four punky looking boys were standing outside the house was complicated.
,,Here sweetie," said Dwayne, gently helping her through the window as she finally got her feet back on the ground and the four of them hovered in front of her window. It was only now that she realized what had happened that a grin came to her lips and she could barely contain her excitement.
Four handsome vampires had rescued her and flown through the night. that was incredible i mean the train-you vampires...thank you for everything" she thanked the four of them who smiled at her.
,,Oh sweetie you have no idea how good everything will be tomorrow night at the same time" David mumbled and she knew she would be there, knew she was flying with the four of them again. But most of all she knew that there was now a fourth option. To roam the night with the lost boys.
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silvershiningtarot · 1 year
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🌸Pac 18+ What’s the meaning of this connection Between You & Your FS (Short)
🔋Take a deep breath, and remember this is a general reading. I hope this reading gives you clarity. Enjoy it.🌸🌸❤️💋All love and positive vibes surrounding you guys, and this general reading as well. 🌸🌸😋❤️💋
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Pile 1: Oh, the meaning of this connection between you and your FS. It's a major sacred support. It seems like some of you will have a false twin, they are an imposter. Energetic vampires, chaotic, drama, and a shadow portal. I think that some of you might stay away from this person. I don't sense that bad from them though. They'll say that you get them and vice-versa. Like I said I don't sense bad from this false twin maybe they aren't meant to be a romantic relationship between you and them. That's what I'm feeling. It seems like this connection means that you guys will be best pals, and have such good chemistry together. Long talks, vibing, and needing each other. You two will have such mutual respect. A few of you will be the best of friends. That's why I'm getting friendship vibes. For some of you yes this is a false twin because it wasn't supposed to be a romantic relationship. Don't be disappointed about it. Because you'll have such a good friendship with them. Us vs Us. You two will have inside drama, so they'll get on your nerves. A lot of triggers will happen with them. You'll bring out the good and bad. Space is necessary. They'll think that you're so stunning to them. They'll be starstruck. So the meaning of this connection is divinely guided it is protected by y'all spirit guides. Y'all have an unbreakable connection. To be real I like this connection between you and them. Maybe you or they might beatbox or Chop. They might go to therapy for their disorder. Again I told you they will annoy the shit out of you and vice-versa. But the meaning of this connection is very powerful to me.
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Pile 2: Off the back, you two are Starcross lovers. Do you know what movie I’m seeing Titanic? Titanic! I love that movie like some of you are like Rose and your husband is like Jack. The ones who hold themselves back. That's so funny that what card came out. So it seems like you'll be the one who runs away from this beautiful connection. Because you think that this connection between you and them could be true. You'll think it's not real or feel like you are delusional. But you aren't. Even spirits say “This Is Real”. So believe it! Are you going to trust it? Anyways this means that you and your FS are a soul and star family. It meant to come down here in the 3D. Activation!!! This means that they'll respect the shit out of you. Admiration, worship, and loves you, and be your biggest fan and supporter. This is amazing. See! You will have your inside drama between you and him. I feel it is a very intense fight you two will have. But it won't get toxic to where breaking up. Again space is necessary. This means that this connection between you and them will turn into an engagement 💍. So you'll marry them. I believe after your walls are down. Oh so here's the issue ex will try to come between you and them. But I don't feel it for long though. Come on! Your FS worships the fuck out of you. You are their Zing. This reminds me of the movie Hotel Transylvania. When Johnny and Mavis Zing for the first time. It seems like this type of connection. See! I was right about those intense fights. When you and your FS argue that shit will cause a lot of fire 🔥. Again I don't feel toxic but I do feel like you two especially have to watch your mouth 👄.
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Pile 3: The meaning of this connection between you and your FS is that you'll be addicted to that dick! Ayo!!! Haha 💰😂you’ll be very addicted to that dick. Eat it up. Some of you will be submissive to them, and possessive. Woah this is an interesting pile. So they're your mentor. Your spouse is your mentor they are meant to help you. Ahhh!! I'm screaming 🙀🎱. This connection between you and them is meant to be manifest. It is happening now. It is like a blessing from the sky. You two will cross the finish line and success, and fulfillment. Oh, this is good. They already sending you messages in dreams, giving you signs, and online. Don't ignore the signs. A lot of grief will happen. So much transformation for the two of you. Sadness, pain, depression, and loss. I think your FS will be there for you. Yes, you two will fucking fight but help each other with it. This is your last life with them. Separate souls are only meant to be in the 5D. So they were meant to be your spirit guide just to watch over you. That's why they are your mentor. Hmm, it seems like a lot of mistrust maybe you are scared about this engagement 💍. Multiple attraction!! Oh, you'll have a lot of men and women on you heavily. A lot of old feelings will come up. I don't know what that feeling is but I heard it is worth it. Some of you will marry your Mentor or you'll be engaged to them.
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Pile 3: Oh snap, In the beginning, it was like lust I don't care to use that word. So I would say a fling. I swear it is passion between you and your FS. I can that you guys having a lot of sex. This reminds me of the movie Sugar and Spice if you guys ever watch that movie. With Diane and Jack Bartlett. That's exactly how I see it. It won't be serious in the beginning, because again it is like a fling. But you are manifest it comes into fruition. It is happening now. This might be the last life with them. Awe 😭I’m sorry but again don’t be disappointed because it will be worth it. See! Flirting, teasing, and passion. Goddamnnn!!! A lot of sex. I'm not surprised they have a breeding kink. They'll throw your ass against the wall and start kissing you hard. Biting lips 💋🕯. I do sense a romantic side they would want to show you but it seems like they are a little scared. They'll be your 1st. First kiss, relationship, and your first time. You'll be giving your precious fruit to them✨. Haha 😂didn’t I say this? Passionate kisses, intense sex energy, and partying together. Oh my goodness, you two will be partying hard together. They'll be fighting for your attention like crazy!!! I mean fighting to it. I can see that. That's incredible. The meaning of this connection between you and your FS is very important. In the beginning, it starts as your little crush fling, and then a relationship, and now as fiancè. Do you see the pattern? This is the meaning of y'all connection together.
Reblog, and Comment on what you think of this reading. Check out my profile page!! Enjoy this reading. I hope it gives you clarity and remember it's a general reading. 💋💋✨❤️❤️🌸.
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Could you do 1. "Did I ever tell about my first ever murder?" "What murder, you're innocent as fuck!" With Marko x reader, the reader being a witch and the fic being a funny romance? If you need more detail you can message me! 💕💕
Absolutely! Thank you so much for requesting hon! I hope you'll like this!💜
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The smell of cinnamon lingered in the kitchen, slowly but surely mixing with the smell of salt - whether that was because of the open window or the spell, I wasn't sure - and incense. It wasn't a difficult spell, not at all. A rather standard cleansing I liked to do every once in a while, making sure that the consequences of certain practices wouldn't follow me. As I walked around my house, murmering the spells and spreading the salt on the windowsills and doorways, I felt the last hot rays of summersun touch my face. I smiled. With any luck, he'd be here soon.
Wiping my hands on my jeans, I walked into the kitchen. Marko always insisted that he didn't mind eating take-out whenever they ate human food, but I knew that it was just a matter of convenience. Sure, take-out was good, but it was not as good as my own cooking, surely. So, with a pan on the fire and some quick work on mixing the ingredients, I had a lasagna baking in the oven.
"Open the door!"
I looked up, surprised at what I was seeing. The sun hadn't yet set, and yet here he was already. He tried - and failed - to cover himself with a blanket, trying to protect himself from the final rays of sunlight and-
"Are you crazy? You could have been burnt to crisps!" I quickly pulled him inside, closing the curtains and grabbing some ice for his burnt hand.
"Evening, babe!" He just grinned, causing me to shake my head. "What's cooking?"
"Lasagna. That is, of course, if you promise not to burn yourself to death in the sun for me."
"I didn't mean to, I just- we need to talk alright?"
"About?" I put a glass and a bloodbag in front of him, grabbing a cup of tea for myself.
"Well, our leader still thinks that you are a liability."
"Ah, that." I shrugged. "I don't think being a vampire would be that bad. I've been thinking about it, you know."
"It's more than just us being together, you know that?"
"I know you and the boys are a date one, live with four kind of deal."
He chuckled. "You know what we have to do."
"Party all night? Sleep all day? What was it that David always said?" I knew what he meant. Of course I did. I just wasn't sure where this would go.
"Babe," he looked at me, his face turned serious. "You need to kill."
"Why do you look so worried?"
"Because I know you and I don't know if you can."
"What?"
"Kill."
"Of course I can kill." I stood up to get the lasagna out of the oven, making a plate for each of us. "You really don't have to worry about that."
"How do you know? It is harder than it looks, especially the first time and I don't want it to haunt you -"
"I never told you about my first murder, did I?" I said quietly.
"What murder?!" Marko dropped his fork. "You're innocent as fuck!"
I hummed. "I mean, I didn't mean to kill him."
"You actually killed someone?"
"Yeah." I looked at Marko, seeing his confused and yet slightly prideful look. "I did."
"What? How?"
"Now, it wasn't anything brutal, you know. Nothing like you guys do."
"But you did kill someone?"
"Yeah. I- we established that already, right? I killed someone, by accident."
"Hit and run?" He asked taking another bite.
"No."
"Then what?"
"You know how I always check, to make sure that the area is safe for you guys?"
Marko nodded, motioning for me to continue.
"Well, one night, the spell flared up, and I noticed that there was someone lurking around the cave. I knew he was trouble, and I was close by, so I thought I would check it out, you know?"
"It is sweet how much you care."
"It was mainly your pigeons that I was worried about," I grinned, sticking my tongue out before continuing. "I walked up to the man, who immediately tried to ask me everything I knew about not only the cave but also the kids seen coming out of the cave. He was bad news, alright. I noticed he had stakes with him, I could smell the garlic - he was out to kill you guys."
"So?"
"So I might have maybe put a little jinx on him?"
"What jinx?"
"Just some bad luck, you know. Being a little more clumsy than usual? Like, tripping. From the edge of a cliff?"
Marko looked at me, before chuckling. "You tripped a man to death?"
"I didn't mean to, but yeah. Yeah, I did."
"You must really like me."
I looked up, frowning. "What do you mean?"
"To kill, just so you can see me again?"
"You'd do the same thing," I grinned. "Maybe together we can be an undead Bonnie and Clyde."
"Now that'd be something," Marko took my hand, pulling me towards him. "But, seeing as killing is no longer something I have to worry about -" he kissed me softly - "do you think you'd want to become like me?"
I smiled, kissing back, looking him in the eyes. "Yeah."
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