#i want to be a vampire that preys on others

[sh1-n0bu]

yall really thought i was done with monster reader? nuh uh. VAMPIRE READER WITH A SHY MONSTERFUCKER CHARACTER

a shy monsterfucker who didn’t knew they were a monsterfucker yet, who didn’t knew of the kinks they had yet to awaken in themselves, who only thought of themselves as vanilla meeting you for the first time and thinking that you feel not so human. don’t get them wrong, there was nothing about you that was out of place. you looked human but you just… didn’t really felt like it at times

maybe it was the way you sometimes yawned and your jaws opened just a little bit too wide. maybe it was the way you were able to see so damn well in the darkness, eyes sometimes nearly glowing until they shake their head and your eyes looked just fine. maybe it was the way they slowly noticed that you barely ate anything whenever you hung out together, merely ordering a black coffee with extra shots or asking for the black coffee to be made just a little bit thicker. maybe it was the way your smile stretched just a little bit too big to be normal, sharp fangs and canines glistening

either way, you didn’t feel normal. you didn’t feel entirely… human, to them. but they find themselves shrugging it off, still thinking of you as their friend and a close companion

it all gets thrown out when you go radio silent one day. no phone calls, no notifications, no messages or hell, letters. just silence. worried sick, they make their way over to your house, using the spare key you gifted them and stepping inside to a dark and messy home. blinds closed shut, home miserable and, were those claw tears in the back of the couch?

feeling their guts churning with the desire to run away, they call out your name under their breath, akin to a whisper. when receiving no response, they call out again, feeling like they want to run away as they think of their choices. only a one step deeper into your messy home and their vision was swimming, being slammed down onto the floor as something hisses above them before it trails off into a low laugh. dazed, they open their eyes to find… you. except, it wasn’t really you. glowing slitted eyes, wide smile and a sense of danger

“fresh prey, walking straight into my grasp. must be my lucky day…” even your voice sounded weird, as if two people were talking at the same time. one, your normal voice and the other more high pitched. like how some creatures’ voice becomes higher pitched to mimic others and lure prey into their grasp. like… a monster

they tried to flee, to talk sense into you, fear and desperation tugging at their heart as their words trail off into a terrified whimper when your jaws open just a little bit wider, slits appearing at the sides as a long forked tongue runs over knife like sharp fangs before closing again. this felt like a nightmare, something they never really thought of happening before. they could only look away, tears stinging in their eyes when your clawed, stretched fingers tear off a piece of their shirt’s neck area open, thinking that you will tear them apart like how you just did with their clothes just now

a shy monsterfucker who lets out a yelp when they feel a wet feeling on their neck, something long and wet slithering over the skin as if softening the flesh there. despite the fear churning their stomach, they couldn’t help but whine out as their body suddenly started to feel hot. so needy and pathetically hard and wet in their pants like a hormonal teenager as they stare at your long tongue. even as you laugh at the flushed look on their face and make some demeaning remark, all they could do was stare

and to their own horror, they let out a fucking moan when your sharp fangs bite down on the same place you just licked at, head thrown back onto the floor as a loud plea for more falls from their lips. pleas of biting their neck more, tear their flesh apart with your fangs, clench down those strong jaws, absolutely ruin them to your own pleasure. they didn’t get it, wasn’t it supposed to hurt? at least, from all the movies and books, but no, it felt good. even as their blood gets drawn out and your canines dig into their flesh, tearing the skin apart, all they could do was moan out loud like a desperate harlot. mind muddled and body twisting to weakly hump at your knee between their legs, even as your jaws let go of their neck and licked the wounds close, they could only whimper at the loss of the feeling

the next morning, they woke up in your bed, surrounded in comfort and soft beddings. was… last night a dream? were they imagining it all? a wet dream?

their confused brain stops whirring question and theory after one another as the door to the room opens, you stepping in with a cup of steaming hot tea in your hand and a plate of some fruits cut into small pieces in the other. looking just fine and normal, no fangs, no blood, no strange slits at the corner of your mouths, no long slithering tongue, just a normal [name], albeit a tiny bit worried. so it was all just a wet dream…

since that day and that strangely realistic dream that the shy monsterfucker thought they had, it became a bit hard for them to look you in the eye and hold a normal conversation. they were fucking embarrassed, hell ashamed even, by their own thoughts that conjured up such image of you in their own sleep. they always knew you gave off an eerie, not-so-very-human vibes but even then, imagining you as a goddamn vampire who saw them as your prey was... a little bit too much. they didn't even found vampires attractive, but if you were to somehow magically turn into one, maybe they wouldn't mind it much. of being your bloodbag, your sweet prey, your willing sacrificial lamb that you toy and flaunt like a trophy pet

shy monsterfucker who gets too sexually frustrated easily ever since that one specific dream, always staring into your mouth whenever you're looking away and talking or laughing, hoping to see a glimpse of an unusually sharp fangs. who think they do indeed see something and immediately lets out a quiet whimper, thighs squishing and rubbing together as that one dream plays out in their mind again. who excuses themselves from the hang out earlier so they can go home under the guise of a "not feeling very good today", when in reality they would be touching themselves again that night, humping their pillows with pathetic broken moans of your name. sometimes, when feeling bolder, they would say the same pleads they did in their dream, asking you to bite them as they throw their heads back, neck free and pristine. if they shut their eyes tight and imagined hard enough, they could remember the phantom feeling of your slithered tongue running over their skin. humping at their pillow harder with a broken sob of your name as their body shakes, soiling their pillow case with their own cum again for the nth time in the last 2 days, changing it once more

they didn't get it, they usually had just a normal amount of sex drive, who barely got horny unless they were intoxicated or something. this newfound sexual frustration was weird to them. new and scary with the ways it left their body all hot and bothered just by looking at you. staring, waiting and gulping down saliva to wet their throat as their mind goes to the gutter. imagining your clawed hands trailing over their bare skin, maybe leave a few small cuts if you feel like it, hold over their hips a bit too tightly to leave a bruise, bite at their porcelain skin. would you make them your personal bloodbag if they acted good and begged hard enough?

shy monsterfucker who gets caught, mind too fuzzy with filthy thoughts as they moaned out your name into their pillows as you invite yourself inside their home with a bag of fresh fruits that you bought for them to get better, the spare key they gifted you in your hand. who didn’t knew they were caught, thinking of it as simply one of their imaginations again as they see you standing on the doorway to their room, leaning on the doorframe with a low hum

“i knew i used too much calming saliva on you” you say out loud, only getting a broken whimper of your name as their fingers curl inside their hole, tired and confused. vampires had a special aphrodisiac like mixture in their saliva that they used to calm their prey before feasting and to their bad luck, you have accidentally used an excessive amount when you drank from them few days ago

“[n-naameee]♡︎ ahck t-touch me! touch me, please♡︎…?” they cried out, hearts swirling in their pupils, face flushed to the tips of their ears as they whined out deliriously with an open mouth. a sweet prey, right in your grasp. since you were the one to cause it, it would only be right to fix your mistakes right? cooing out words of faux comfort, you step over their sweat clung body, taking in the way they looked so out of it. all wet and hard, too dazed to even say your name properly

shy monsterfucker who immediately lets out a squeal when your fingers push into their hole, while their own fingers were inside too! please be gentle, at least let them get their own fingers out first? who only could let out a broken sob when they could feel how deep your fingers curled inside them, feeling the way your fingers stretched and fucked their pathetic hole open easily. they were nothing but just a weak sex toy for you, a meager little bunny whose legs twitched and shook every time the pads of your fingers jabbed at that bundle of nerves inside them, squeaking like the precious little thing they were

“baahn—! aangh ah haang buh-bite..?” they asked, teary eyes staring up at you with so much love and lust as their wet lashes flutter against their red cheeks. “b-bite me♡︎..? aamh haah i... i’ve been such a go-ooddd♡︎♡︎ good bloodbag for yoouu♥︎!!” they blabber on, arm wrapping around your shoulder as they try to pull you down to their neck. the bite mark of a few days earlier already gone and healed thanks to your healing saliva. you could just hear the thrumming of fresh red liquid from under their skin, heart beat loud and erratic like a war-drum, begging you to tear them apart

shy monsterfucker who lets out the loudest moan, breaking down into pathetic blabbers of gratitude and pleads for more as you gave in to the instincts to feed. back arching up from the bed so prettily, soft chest against your own, a rapid beating heart under their own skin that you could feel against your cold, still one. shy monsterfucker who lets out a filthy squeal, tightening around your fingers as they cum on your hand, soiling it as the tears that built up in their heart pupil eyes finally fall down

shy monsterfucker who begs for a kiss, asking for your lips to be against their own. who lets out a cute muffled sob when you do just as they asked, tasting the metallic taste of their own blood on your lips before something long slithers down their throat. long and wet with a thicker textured saliva coating it, being pushed into their mouth, forcing their jaws open as they choke of their own moan as you continue to torture that tender spot inside their tight hole. gagging as your tongue slithers down their throat, feeling the way their adam’s apple feels a little bit wider due to how deep you showed your tongue inside their mouth

shy monsterfucker who could only cum dry, into your hands, tired and body aching due to their constant actions to try and relieve their sexual frustration. mouth left open, swollen lips wet with your mixed salivas that connect your faces just a little bit longer as your forked tongue comes slithering back out. eyes all hazy, nearly shut close with how low lidded they were. you would have mistaken them for unconscious if it weren’t for the weak whimper of a “mmghh—! s-shoo goowd♥︎ t-tongue... wan’ your tongue inside meegh♡︎♡︎” as they weakly wiggled their hips

shy monsterfucker who watches as you seemingly easily manhandle their body so you could do as they nicely asked, their strong body meaning nothing to you. who watches with their hands on the pillows by their head, neck painted a saccharine red that you loved, lust heavy eyes staring at you as a few tears fall from them. who lets out a broken sob as they see the way your jaws open a bit too wide, slits appearing at the edges of your lips to make it easier for your long tongue to come out. like a snake, it licks at their inner thighs, bloodied fangs leaving cuts on the tender flesh there as their legs violently trembled in your grasp

shy monsterfucker who chokes on their moans, head getting thrown back as your tongue pushes past their tight walls, eagerly humping your face as much as their shaking body could allow, feeling the way your tongue reached deep inside them — more than any meager sex toys or dildos ever could, twisting their insides. wailing out “guhhckk♥︎♥︎! s-sho deEEHNGK♡︎ y-your tongue— f-fuckinnh aanh nyah♥︎!! fuckinng my guts! aah ngaah—♥︎!” as they felt the way your tongue moved back and forth inside their hole, claws digging into their legs and thighs to keep them in place, forcing them to keep their legs open. who blabbers drunkenly about their mind melting, mushing up their words as they slur your name before fucking squirting. shrill noise between a moan and a squeal falling from their swollen lips before losing consciousness

shy monsterfucker who will most definitely ask you to bite them again the next time they wake up

⇨ dan heng, yingxing, argenti, moze, bronya, firefly, gepard, robin, caelus, yukong, legolas, lindir, meludir, baizhu, charlotte, diluc, furina, ganyu, kaveh, nilou, kokomi, xiao, calcharo, jiyan, xiangli yao, rover, zhezi, shorekeeper, aerith, zack, angeal, tifa, vincent, sephiroth + anyone you think will fit, really

[mirotilo]

Don’t Think I Will - Theodore N.

being bent over against a random locker in the quidditch changing room was not an unknown situation for either of you. it was familiar and warm the way his warm hands gripped and held up your waist, the tip of your toes touching the floor, cheek pressed against the locker as he coos and groans while groping your bum.

“this… yeah this is the best view i’ve had in a while. makes it allll worth it y’know?” he coos, pressing his sweaty chest against your back, his breath warm on your neck as he leans down, like a vampire next to attack his next prey.

slow, deep strokes is what you’ve gotten used to with him, tip tickling against your slimy walls, his hands still sticky with the lube he rubbed on his length, now reaching up to hold your breast, same breasts that so repeatedly get used as his personal stress balls during your naps and cuddles.

“i take it the g-game was good?” you murmur, trying to keep your cool, even with him being balls deep in you currently. “was okay… you’d know if you had watched it.” he hums, pressing warm, open mouthed kisses on your neck and jaw.

“stupid tests, not allowing my girlfriend to watch me play…” he mumbles, removing some hair from your shoulder, kissing your skin. “soooo pretty though, so ‘s all forgiven, cioccolatino…” he hums, your own response muffled by his hand going over your lips, shushing you gently, going even slower with his deep thrusts, your hand snaking down to touch your desperate clit, neglected by his warm touch.

“so how was studying, hm? read all your smart little books, piccola?” he hums peacefully, making you whine against his grip, hating and loving how nonchalant he acts, even with his fingers toying with your nipples.

“sh-shut up…” you grumble, his index and middle finger being placed on your tongue to keep you quiet as he, very condescendingly, shushes you, like he was soothing a baby fussing over having to eat something icky.

“noo… no, i don’t think i will. i think you like my voice on your ear and my cock in your pussy.” he hums softly, beginning to pick up his face, which makes you whine even more, your cunt being practically bullied by his cock, his hips grinding forwards and back.

he mindlessly rubs and caresses your hip with his other hand, thrusts getting deeper the more he leans down to hide in your neck, taking in your scent with a low groan, removing his spit covered fingers from your mouth and and replacing your own fingers with his, playing with your clit.

he rolls the nub between his fingers, your own spit making it all the slicker and more pleasurable, you grind your hips, wanting more and more friction between you both.

—

sorry to edge this fanfic. i’m really burnt out and have FOUR tests this week, all of which i need to study for this weekend. luv yall

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[coreene]

This is from when Astarion tells the player that he's a vampire

Player: But you've been walking in the sun this whole time. Astarion: And by rights I should be cinders blowing in the wind, but something's protecting me. The same something that's kept us from turning into mind flayers, no doubt. But that's neither here nor there. What matters is everything's out in the open now. Because we trust each other. devnote: He doesn't really believe what he's saying but trying to convince the player

Player: We are a team. We need each other. Astarion: Exactly! I knew I could rely on you. Just like you can rely on me. devnote: Do not rely on Astarion, dear player. He will eat you.

I've seen this being shared before but I wanted to have it on my blog anyway. That last devnote just kills me. And Astarion does, in fact, kill you if you let him. I like that it happens. I think that was one of the moments where it broke that romantic vampire trope. You can't trust vampires - they will eat you!!

I didn't know much about dnd vampires, and having already lived through that vampire loving phase in my teens he wasn't really interesting to me, at first glance. But being a vampire is not really the main focus of his story, is it? It's trauma, slavery and survival. It's how strong he is despite being so goddamned scared.

Which makes him human more than anything else. I think we like him so much because of that.

[unsanctitude]

vanity fangs. in my neck. now. please. please. please. please

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[nerdburritos]

I'm starving, darling

summary: you and Astarion decide to play a little game of hide and seek.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ (MDNI) tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, predator/prey, smut, bodily fluids word count: 2.5k read on ao3: I'm starving, darling

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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"I'm home, my treasure." You slowly rose from sleep as these sweet words were whispered into your ear. You had no idea what time it was or when excatly he came home from one of his important meetings he now had on his schedule nearly ever other say since slowly taking over Baldurs Gate.

It started quietly, in the shadows. Getting invited to important political events wasn't hard now, you were the heroes of Baldurs Gate after all, the rest was fairly easy. Astarion slowly slipped into politics, barely noticeable at first - advising here and there, helping out and funding the restoration of the city. Now he sat in the High Council of Baldur's Gate, slowly filling the remaining seats with his people - his personal puppets, dancing just how he liked. No one noticed how influential he actually had become at first, until it was too late. He had slipped into every important part of Baldur's Gate - politics, finance, jurisdiction.

He was no merciless leader but people respected and feared him and that's all Astarion has ever wanted. The Ascended Vampire, a creature of night being able to walk in the blazing sun, enter homes uninvited and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh - most people didn't even dare to question him, it'd be foolish anyways.

You opened your eyes slightly, seeing Astarion towering over you on the bed, caging you in with his strong arms, the soft black, satin blankets clinging to your frame. He was still wearing his outfit from his earlier meeting - a black doublet with gold embroidery and matching slacks, gods how you loved that outfit on him.

"Good meeting?" you asked while slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Astarion immediately buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone.

"Mh-hm." he mumbled, still buried in your neck while he placed his hands on your waist, pulling yor body closer to him. "Such fools, all of them." Your gentle giggles were quickly interrupted by a moan as Astarion started to lick from your collarbone up to your ear, where he gently nibbled on your earlobe with his sharp fangs, making you shiver in anticipation - he was eager.

"How about some dessert?" Astarion whispered into your ear, making his way down your neck again, nibbling and kissing… he wanted to feed, obviously. You smirked, quite in the mood for riling him up a little.

"No." You simply said, grabbing his head and pulling him away from your neck. The look upon his face said it all - red eyes wide open in surprise, a mix of "what?" and "how dare you?" written all over his face.

"Oh, my love, your forget yourself. You're in no position to deny me. I know you want it, darling." Astarion whispered again in that deep, rumbling voice of his. You quicky jumped out of bed before he had a chance to pounce on you, making your way on the other side of the room, giggling like a little girl. Astarion smirked.

"Hmm, so you want to play a game, little love? Very well, I'll indulge you." He slowly unfastened the cufflinks on his doublet, sending you seductive looks - by the Nine Hells, this man was a vision. "So, how about this: you run and hide and I'll try to find and catch you. I'll give you a head start of 5 minutes, only within the palace, no gardens." He ran a hand trough his fluffy white curls and you nodded. "And when I catch you, you'll be all mine, like it's supposed to be." Astarions red eyes bore right into yours and you nodded. All his.

"Very well then, run off, my love. I'll see you soon." You immediately took off, running down the hall, figuring out where to hide. You knew the palace inside out but so did Astarion. You had to switch your hiding places after a certain time, that much was clear, you had to win! Astarion was a sore loser, so seeing the absolute disbelief on his face would be priceless. You suddenly heard the door of your shared bedroom shut in the distance, has it already been five minutes or was he cheating already?

You quickly hid in the old storage closet, it was fairly empty with the expetion of some old boxes and a few brooms, a bad hiding spot but it had to suffice for now. Astarion slowly made his way down the corridor, whisteling a gentle tune, already sure of his victory and thinking about all the delectable things he might do to you later. He continued to stroll down the corridor with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks until he suddenly heard gentle movements from the laudry chamber next to him and smirked. How convenient. Sure it must be his little treasure inside, he ripped open the doors and stared right into the face of a shocked maid.

"Lord Ancunìn! How can I be of service?" she stuttered, right in the middle of folding the bedsheets, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

"Have you seen my consort, maid?" He snapped, already on edge. This was most embarrassing.

"I-i think Lady Ancunìn went further into the west wing, my Lord." Astarion slammed the door shut and made his way towards the west wing while you quietly removed yourself from the storage closet and headed into the opposite direction, quite sure of your victory but your inner celebration came to a quick halt as fast steps approached you. It was him but how? How did he know?

You quickly ran down the corridor and into Astarion's private study, the footsteps getting closer and closer. You were pretty sure that he used his vampiric powers to find you - that cheating bastard, he just couldn't bare to lose this silly, little game. The study didn't offer any good hiding spots either but you had no way out, Astarion was propably right behind you, you'd be running straight into his arms and you'd never hear the end of it. You slilently tucked yourself into a corner of the room, casting invisibilty just in time as the door swung open and Astarion stepped in, looking quite confused as the room appeared empty. He slowly shut the door, locking it - he knew you were still here.

"You can come out now, little love. There is nowhere to go." He chuckled, walking across the room and settling himself on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly back, waiting patiently - he knew the invisbility spell you propably casted was going to wear off soon. He proceeded to teasingly unbutton his doublet, eyes glancing across the room. By the gods, you wanted him but you were not ready to give up just yet, you still had about thirty seconds of invisibility left.

You quietly snuck to the door and teleported yourself out of the room - Astarion immediately noticed and ran after you, the doublet now open and his bare chest on full display. He saw you run across the corridor right in front of him as your invisibility slowly faded and let out a dark chuckle, he was enjoing this hunt massively. While your stamina was not bad, you were terribly aware that you could never outrun a Vampire, let alone an ascended one, Astarion was letting you get away with it, he was playing with you. You sprinted around the corner and came face to face with a wall, shit. You forgot that you closed off the entire wing that led down to the ritual chamber, only Astarion was able to enter and said Vampire was now right behind you, slowly getting closer and closer with a predatory smile.

"There you are, my little treat." You pressed your back against the wall, giving him a shy look, hoping you might get away with it. "Now, don't be coy." This was obviously not working, he seemed to be immunue to your charm so you had to beat him at his own game, that was your only hope now so you let him approach, playing the part of the poor, weak consort who just lost their silliy little game, his own damsel in the distress who needed a big, strong Vampire Lord to save her day. Astarion's protectiveness and his need to play your big, strong consort was a major turn-on for both of you. He loved to show off how powerful he was in comparison to you, knowing he could easily overpower but keep you safe anytime.

"Aww, don't pout." Astarion teased. "Don't you dare to give me an attitude now, my pet." He pressed you further into the wall, sure of his victory. You gave him a coy smile, placing your arms around his neck and Astarion was sure you were about to give in but you suddenly slipped down, crawling through his spreaded legs, freeing yourself and running away, laughing.

"Cheeky little pup." Astarion chuckled. "You want to play dirty? Fine, 'cause I love it dirty." He used his powers to teleport himself right in front of you, managing to elict a shocked gasp out of you.

"Cheater!" you yelled, ready to push him away but he immediatly grabbed your hands, pulling you into his naked chest.

"You're quite the insolent little pup today, my treasure." Astarion pushed you into the nearest wall, securing your arms above your head with one hand while the other made his way down your body, immediately cupping the sensitive spot between your legs - you let out a loud gasp. "My my, is this getting you all excited, my pet?" He leaned closer, whispering in your ear now. "Is this getting you all wet?" Astarion pushed his thigh between your legs, settling you down while still pressing you against the wall, making you whimper with need. He grabbed your hips and began moving them up and down his thigh, creating a dangerous friction between your legs and you let the most pathetic moan escape our mouth, Astarion laughed.

"Look at you, precious thing, you do want this." He gently nuzzled your neck, teasing the column of your throat with gentle kisses and the occasional suck while you continued to grind on his thigh, working yourself up more and more. Your sweet moans were nearly enough for him, he quickly freed himself from his slacks, giving his already hard cock a few gentle strokes while he continued to lick that delicious throat of yours. Your breath started to quicken, you were close and Astarion removed his thigh and pushed your dress up to your hips.

"By the Nine Hells…" he breathed as he saw your black thong, all lace, his absolute weakness. He deftly pushed the flimsy material to the side and ran a gentle finger through your folds, gathering some wetness before settling on your bundle of nerves, cicling it slowly.

"Oh Astarion…I'm gonna…" He immediately removed his fingers, one hand cupping your breast instead, gently teasing your hard nipple with firm, circling strokes of his thumb while the other one grabbed the base of your throat, applying gentle pressure, not enough to completly cut off your air supply but just enough to be noticeable.

"Oh no, my love, not yet." The hand teasing your breast moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock once more and slowly guiding himself closer to your aching pussy. He gently coated himself in your juices, letting the head run through your slit, teasing you and making you whine in anticipation before pushing just the tip inside of you. It took all of his strength not to take you hard and fast right now but he intended to drag this out, make you suffer.

"Astarion…fuck…." you whimpered, trying to move your hips closer to his, to slide him all the way inside but he kept you pressed against the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, good girls ask before they take what they want. You are my good girl, aren't you, precious?" he teased, gently cicling your clit with his thumb, biting his lower lip with his fangs on full diplay. You nodded vigorously. "Then tell me."

"Please…please, Astarion…"

"Please what, my love?"

"You've won! Please fuck me!"

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" He smirked arrogantly, placing gentle kisses on your neck again before finally sheathing his fangs into your throat and pushing his cock inside of you. Astarion moaned gently around your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he took generous gulps of your blood while pushing in and out of you at a tantalizing slow speed.

"That's a good girl." He felt your pussy flutter around him - gosh, the praise was really doing it for you and your blood began to taste even sweeter - your impending climax so close he could practically taste it.

"Fuck, you're being so good for me, my pet." Astarion took one more gulp before freeing his now blood-stained fangs from your neck, licking across the puncture marks to clean them. He now stared right into your eyes with his beautiful red ones, continuing his sweet, sweet praise while he slowly pushed in and out of you.

"You like that, don't you? The way my cock feels inside of you, like you were made for me." All you could do was moan and cling closer to him. "Fucking. Perfect." He slid out and pushed back in hard with every word, he was slowly losing control, getting closer and closer.

"Yes, my love, that's it." Astarion praised as he felt your pussy getting tighter. "Come for me." You saw stars as he started to tease your clit oh so gently once again and shattered around him. You felt yourself gushing, coating his cock with your release and blushed but Astarion seemed to quite enjoy it.

"Oh my pet, you've made such a mess for me, fuck…" His thrust were getting harder, sloppier, his breathing quickened. You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer while resting your forehead on his, gently moaning.

"Please come inside me." You begged breathless, knowing this might send him over the edge. Saying that Astarion had a breeding kink might be far-feteched, he wasn't fond of children, he didn't even particularly like them, not to mention that a Vampire can't sire children, not even an ascended one but the thought of your pussy dripping with his release was enough. You pushed yur hips against his, helping him along and placed one of your hands on his defined chest, gently teasing his nipple.

"Oh fuck, little love, I'm gonna come…" Astarion's moan was the most beautiful thing on earth, you thought, you loved how vocal he was during sex, never above mentioning how good he felt or letting the occasional dirty talk slip in. Sex with Astarion was far from boring or vanilla. "Fuck." he nearly whimpered as he spilled inside you, his sloppy thrusts coming to a halt, his chest now pressed right on yours. You felt his hot breath on our neck as he buried is head into your shoulder, slowly coming down from his height.

You slipped your hands in his soft, white hair, slowly massaging his scalp and playing with his curls, feeling quite content and relaxed.

"Bath, my love?" he mumbled into your shoulder, already grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you down the corridor.

[girlkisser13]

diet mountain dew

"you’re no good for me" "but baby, i want you, i want you, i want you"

pairings: klaus mikaelson x human afab!reader

warnings/tags: smut (18+), blood kink, blood sharing, unprotected sex (practice safe sex guys), creampie, needy klaus.

summary: you let klaus feed on you.

you'd expected him to be hungry. you just hadn't realized how ravenous he was, nor what drinking blood did to him.

"f-fuck, ah— c-careful," you gasped.

your voice echoed in the empty room, and his pleasurable grunts echoed with it. it was so dark that you could barely see a thing. you winced, again, from the strange new sensations surging through your body.

"ah— c-careful, klaus, please" you squeaked, it was the only sound that could escape your throat as he clamped your shoulder in his jaw. your neck was soaked, smeared in spit and blood, a leftover gift from when he had searched for the safest spot to drink.

he'd settled on the spot between your collarbone and neck, and there his teeth had sunk in.

with his fangs pierced right down to the bone and his lips bruising your skin, he continued to carefully suck your blood out and into his mouth. it felt like heaven, warm and wet sliding down his throat. to you it was a confusing mix of pleasure and pain.

"a-ah... is—is it, okay?" you whimpered.

klaus let out a low moan in response.

you couldn't move. you were clamped in his jaw, the jaw of a predator designed to keep its prey still, and his body was pinning yours to the cold wood of the floor.

to any passerby you would have looked terrifying. his body was obscured in the dark, appearing as just a hulking, bloody shadow, merging and distorting the outline of your own form; the visage of a monster in the night, consuming the body of a frightened human.

but that wasn't how you saw it. no, you were in the thralls of absolute delight.

one of his hands were on your waist, his fingers carefully drawing you up until you were held taut beneath his body, and the other hand was feverishly groping your tits.

he had torn your dress to feed and then tore a little further, leaving your skin bare right down to your ribs. he was squeezing, stroking, his thumb desperately massaging your nipple. he wanted to hear your whimpers, your soft jolts when he overstimulated that sensitive spot.

you felt him sink down between your legs, his hardened bulge thick and round as it nudged at your bare thigh. he was softly grinding it up against your panties.

you'd never do this, never. this wasn't like you at all. but you were doing it now.

you were mewled as he dry-humped your little body.

your breath was ragged, the soft puffs of condensation from your lips turned a ghostly white by the pale light.

feeding had always been a euphoric experience for him. but now, with you, it had become a full body orgasmic experience, feeding every positive stimulus in his brain and body.

every nerve in his body was on fire in the best way. his body was pulsing, pumping. his arms were covered in goosebumps, his dark hair standing on end, and his cock was painfully erect beneath his pants.

he needed relief. he needed more.

"mmm... mmm," his muffled groans got louder as he continued to feed.

his conscious brain was fighting those deep, vampiric urges, the need to indulge in pleasure no matter the consequences, but his subconcious was primal.

if he had his way he'd drain everything, slowly, all while pumping between your legs into your pretty little cunt, but he couldn't allow that.

you were a sweet, naïve thing, you'd just let him take you up here. your whimpers were heaven, but your softness was too pure for him to fully ruin.

so he forced himself to break a part from you.

he withdrew his fangs and pulled back, revealing the purple, bruised skin of your shoulder. he licked the wound clean before forcing himself away.

"please, please, if you—if you give me your wrist, i—i'll be done, and—"

klaus paused to pant, his lips still stained red. you watched your own blood drip down his chin.

"and, if i could... have you, in another way, it may help to, calm my urges" he said, his voice husky and dark. you watched his eyes glimmer a bright gold. "may i have you?"

"yes," you instinctively blurted, he lunged forward and kissed you. his lips were hard, rough, and you could taste the metallic sting of blood on them. when he pulled back he looked overjoyed.

"good. good. come here, love," he ordered.

you jolted as he dragged your body forward. he carefully tore a hole through your dress and panties with his bare hands.

you shuddered as the cold air hit your bare and slick-coated pussy, but klaus didn't leave you bare for long.

he roughly manhandled you onto the ground before stripping out his suit, allowing his already erect cock to fall down hard on your clit. the sight caused a small, surprised noise to escape your throat, one that he relished.

he was slow, deliberately distracting you with his cock as he raised your wrist to his mouth. he kept you captivated as he carefully slid it inch by inch down your swollen clit, letting you feel every inch.

the pleasure of sinking both his teeth and his cock into you at once was enough to make him physically shake.

with a soft grunt he penetrated both.

your words were turned to gibberish as he pushed his cock in deep, until his pelvis was perfectly squished up against you. the moment your blood hit his throat he started to pump.

you were inside him, and he was inside you. on that filthy, cold floor, you were his.

he started to push his cock in tandem with his teeth.

as his fangs gently shifted beneath the skin, as his lips sucked and bruised, his fat cock gently slipped in and out of your cunt. for such a furious feeder he was a surprisingly gentle lover.

he was terrifyingly strong, that much was clear up close. he bent your thighs until they ached, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, and with each push you could feel the power he was holding back.

you felt him pumping, drawing out your precious blood while his cock ravaged you from inside. each delicious slip, each pulsing throb, every time you felt his cock twitching for attention against your creamy walls, it was unbearable.

you were whining, your heavy breathes producing less and less ghostly condensation. klaus was panting furiously with each thrust, his breath condensing like smoke as he huffed through his curled nose. he was lost in the pleasure, the urge, the need.

and between the tightness, the heat, the copious oozing slick squelching and pooling around his bare skin and dripping off his balls as they smacked against your ass, mixed with the sound of you whining and the fresh blood in his body, he couldn't last any longer.

with a single, muffled groan, klaus came inside of you. his blue eyes rolled back and his body began to buck, smacking your hips until they went numb.

just as he felt your hot blood filling his mouth you felt his thick seed pooling and squishing its way into your cunt, filling every available space. it started to seep out as he continued to hump your limp body, now hanging in sweat, hot pearly strings between his pelvis and your inner thighs.

he pumped inside you until he was utterly spent, his own head now hazy and light, and at last he released you. Your wrist fell limp to the floor.

klaus coyly wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist before brushing your forehead. "are—are you alright?"

the relief he felt when you shakily nodded was unmatched.

"thank you," he murmured, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "you were... delicious."

[just-some-little-lads]

His Favorite Place to Kiss

Hey, all! First official post I've made for LaDS! So I'm sorry if the personalities aren't quite as spot on (I'll learn more about Xavier, I promise)! Can you tell who my favorite is? Oops. Second person POV and a gender neutral MC!

Xavier

Your eyelids. As a cozy lover himself, he adores the way you look so peaceful when you sleep. So cuddly and…perfect in his eyes, even if you can’t always see it yourself. Oftentimes, he finds he stays awake longer than normal when you relax so languidly beside him. All he wants is to take the stress and troubles away from your life. That way, you can look like this always. But he knows he’s not capable of shielding you all the time… So, in moments like these, he keeps you safe in his own arms, letting you escape into the comfort of a dream. Then he’ll take a moment, pressing whispers of a kiss to your closed eyelids while you rest. It’s a little ritual he does, hoping it’ll chase any nightmares away.

-

Zayne

Your forehead. It had started with checking your temperature; the back of his hand against your head. An overprotective gesture he’d do often outside of the hospital. One which you didn’t always mind since it was better than him carrying a thermometer on him at all times. The closer you got, the more the gesture shifted to him pressing his forehead against yours instead. Then eventually developed into a kiss. It’s a reassurance for him in a way. He loves being able to do something so loving and protective at the same time. He’ll lean down and spend a quiet moment kissing your forehead before placing his chin on the top of your head, bringing you in close. A much needed habit now. Knowing your temperature is normal is a sigh of relief as well. One less thing to worry about. Because seeing you in good health is his only real wish…

-

Rafayel

Your hands. An artist’s fascination with hands might seem like a cliché, but with him, it’s true. He takes very good care of his hands, needing them to hold paintbrushes after all. He’s always said that he can tell a lot of a person just from their fingers, and it’s hard to tell if he’s exaggerating his capabilities or if it’s another secret superpower of his. A lot of times, he’ll tease you over the callouses you have from your weapons, saying that he’d just die if something so unsightly happened to his. But there are plenty of days when you come in with cuts or bruised knuckles, making him freeze. He’ll hold your hands tenderly in his and kiss your palms. He claims there’s some sort of “magic” to it, but how cheesy is that? It’s even more cheesy to think that it sort of works…

-

Sylus

Your neck. He’ll say this loud and proudly with a bit of a tease in his tone. He’ll say it’s something about the way he likes to “dominate his prey” or whatever condescending nonsense he always blathers on about. He likes to laugh about the story he tried telling you a while ago, and how you related him to a vampire. The joke has gone rather far if that’s the case. What he won’t tell anyone is how absolutely dumbfounded he is every time he gets to kiss your neck. He knows how vulnerable of a spot it is, and he's more than well aware of the terrible things that could happen if someone were to take advantage of this weakness. And yet…you trust him. Despite the…’rocky’ beginning and the distrust and the constantly being on edge around each other, somehow he’d done enough to earn your favor. Part of him wants to teach you to better have your guard up, but he can’t do such a thing. Every time he plants his kiss against the side of your neck and all you do is laugh or hum, he wants to melt, to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. And he likes when you touch his neck too…because it reminds him that he’s learned to trust someone again.

[ancuninfiles]

Bite Night [REVISED]

Gif by @astarionposting

18+ MDNI - M/F - Astarion x F!Tav - Words: 4K

[REVISED AS OF 06/26/2024]

Summary: He found himself surreptitiously climbing atop her vulnerable body, holding his breath, being sure not to wake her—he didn't need to breathe anyway.

Slotting his leg between her thighs for balance, he placed his elbow on the ground beside her head. He tilted her chin to the side, before slowly and gently brushing her hair away from her pulse point.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Having lost his inhibition, he fisted Tav's hair with fervour, beastially pushing her neck into his mouth. Only then did he hear the salacious mewl of his prey, as he instinctively tasted the pleasure that flowed through her veins.

—𝘐𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦. . . e𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? he questioned.

Astarion's eyes fluttered shut as he groaned deeply into her neck, bringing his knee flush to her core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee.

Tags: smut, somnophilia (if you squint), non-consensual vampire bites, blood drinking, enthusiastic consent (sex), vaginal fingering, P in v, creampie, mating press, outdoor sex, soft Astarion, sorcerer Tav, nondescript Tav, Aftercare, idealized version of events, no beta we die like cazador

MASTERLIST (Other works by me)

Read on AO3 for full tag list and proper formatting (Recommended)

𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Astarion had never met anyone like Tav. Despite their first meeting—where he held a dagger to her throat after tricking her into thinking he needed help—she had shown him nothing but kindness. In retrospect, it was interesting to note that Tav, being a sorcerer, could have easily used Shocking Grasp on him while he had her pinned beneath his blade. Instead, she had been oddly compliant.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

“I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod,” Astarion cooed

Nodding, Tav gazed back at him with half-lidded eyes and knitted brows—a look he could only assume was partially caused by the midday sun beating down on her face. It was as if she completely surrendered to him, going practically limp in his arms, which made him soften his grip slightly.

“Splendid—and now you're going to tell me what you, and those tentacle freaks did to me." he peered down at her, eyes briefly flicking to her neck where her blood bloomed beneath her skin. Despite her relaxed form, he could feel her quickened, prey-like pulse, causing his mouth to moisten.

“I—I didn't do anything. . . I was abducted, same as you!" she pleaded.

“Don't lie to me. I—agh!” Astarion yelped, as a violet aura surrounded them both. Their minds suddenly connected; he could peer into her thoughts and feel what she was feeling. 

To his surprise, her mind was laced with compassion—compassion for him, the man holding a blade to her throat. 

—He and I have the same problem, these tadpoles—and he is likely reeling after all this. He could be a good ally. 

Subsequently, Astarion's memories were exposed to Tav through this odd psychic connection. Broken pieces of his past—pieces that he would have rather kept to himself, though nothing incriminating. 

“What was that? What's going on?" he asked, his voice, laced with anxiety.

Panting, Tav spoke. “You saw into my mind. It was the parasites—they connected us," she said, eyebrows still knitted. She inhaled deeply through her mouth before a wave of calm seemed to ease her expression.

Her breath smelled of mint, and her hair, lavender. 

—Gods—her scent, her pulse, her expression—everything about her is distracting, he thought.

Although he would have loved to hold her for a while longer— to grab her hair and sink his teeth into her delicate flesh, he decided against it. Confident that she was not a threat, he released her with care. However, they maintained eye contact as they slowly stood up—the trust had yet to bud within their fresh companionship.

She wants to be my ally, he reflected, grateful.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

They had acquired two more allies on their misadventure so far—a cleric with an odd name, and an annoying wizard who talked too much. Tav seemed naive, to say the least—she was picking up strays left and right and Astarion couldn't help but question: were these others to be trusted?

Although, Tav had a way of making everyone feel accepted and comfortable. 

“If you need anything, please let me know. I don't care if I'm sleeping, reading, or otherwise busy, you can wake me up. I want to help," she exclaimed to the entire group, in earnest. She even made sure to make eye contact with each of them as she said this—she truly meant it.

—Gods—she couldn't be more sweet. So. . . tempting, he thought to himself. 

He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she acted—but no, he had to stop thinking such desirous things. Even if he merely hinted that he was a monster, Tav would surely end him. Besides, Cazador would most definitely flay him for drinking the blood of a thinking creature.

Although. . .

The parasite had granted him immunity from the sun—maybe Cazador couldn’t control him at all anymore.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

The sun had fallen below the horizon, signifying the evening's end. The day had been exhausting—looking for a healer, which they had to fight through a horde of goblins to get to. 

It had been nought but three nights since the nautiloid crash, and Astarion had already snuck off the previous night to find a boar, which he stupidly left in the middle of the road. Tav and the Shadowheart had fixated on it—the cleric pointing out that the boar had been left fully intact, yet entirely exsanguinated. To his dismay, these strangers were smarter than he had initially thought.

Tav had been so exhausted that she fell asleep beside the fire, while everyone else left to their tents. 

She was a powerful ally, indeed, as the two of them carried the team. The wizard was frequently coming within an inch of death and you would have thought the cleric was blind because she missed almost every shot. 

—Leave it to Gale to cover the ground in grease, only to slip in it and fall prone, himself, Astarion scolded internally.

While everyone was sleeping, Astarion slipped away into a clearing in the woods to have some privacy and decompress at last—he had not been able to since the nautiloid crash. 

Finally, alone with his thoughts, Astarion's memories of his master plagued him; it was as if he were truly there, reciting his rules. 

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

—Terrifying. So much for decompressing, Astarion thought. 

Distressed, he left the clearing—though not without an unsettling feeling, gnawing at his resolve. 

—He can't control me anymore, I can walk in the sun, Astarion mused, attempting to calm his frayed nerves. 

A sudden distracting burning climbed up his throat—he was starving. It only made sense, after having exerted himself more than usual during the day's unfruitful endeavour.

Though he was tasting pseudo-freedom, away from his tormentor, he knew he would never be free from the vampiric syndrome that enthralled him, so.

He had to find something—or someone—to eat. . . soon.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Astarion arrived back at camp, stopping at the tree line, only to assess its state. 

Sweet Tav was still sleeping soundly by the fire as her words replayed in his head, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask—I don't care if I’m sleeping."

Sweet Tav who had shown him compassion almost immediately after he threatened her life with a blade to her throat. . .

—Naive.

Sweet Tav whose breath was minty, whose hair smelled of lavender, and whose pulse sounded so beautifully hypnotic. 

Astarion, bewitched, had snuck close enough to Tav to see her throat, beautifully exposed, during his rapacious musings. 

An easy target, Tav wore a thin, silky nightgown with flimsy straps. Her supple legs, exposed and glistening in the firelight as she lay on her back. The wind blew, stirring the flames, and wafting her herbaceous scent towards Astarion. He attempted to suppress a shameful urge to inhale deeply, as his mouth watered, yearning to sink his teeth into her delicate skin.

He found himself surreptitiously climbing atop her vulnerable body, holding his breath, being sure not to wake her—he didn't need to breathe anyway. 

Slotting his leg between her thighs for balance, he placed his elbow on the ground beside her head. He tilted her chin to the side, before slowly and gently brushing her hair away from her pulse point.

—Formalities, he thought, surely not a gesture of kindness.

He carefully lowered his open maw onto Tav's throat, although he was shaking with anticipation—or perhaps it was simply the sanguine hunger.

Finally puncturing the skin, blood sluiced into his mouth as he latched, almost like a feral animal, and began to imbibe. Her blood was ambrosia—a full-bodied flavour of ichor that he'd never experienced before. It was sweet, yet complex, reminiscent of a fine-aged wine but entirely unique in its own right.

It was everything. She tasted like the sun, like life itself—like freedom.

Having lost his inhibition, he fisted Tav's hair with fervour, beastially pushing her neck into his mouth. Only then did he hear the salacious mewl of his prey, as he instinctively tasted the pleasure that flowed through her veins.

—Is she. . . enjoying this? he questioned.

Astarion's eyes fluttered shut as he groaned deeply into her neck, bringing his knee flush to her core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee.

As her blood rushed through his body, his groin began to harden, filling with heat. Desire built in his lower abdomen, causing his cock to strain uncomfortably against his strays. 

Astarion continued taking generous gulps, running his tongue across her pulse point, trying to coax more blood into his mouth. 

A primal groan spilt from his lips, unbidden, as he yearned for friction.

Astarion repositioned himself fully between her thighs, pressing his clothed bulge onto her exposed entrance. Surprisingly, she accommodated him, tactfully wrapping her legs around his pelvis. 

Tav reached her right hand up to Astarion's curls, but he grabbed her wrist, roughly pinning it beside her head—he needed more.

Tav whimpered, but her rutting slowed, as did her pulse. In that moment, a war raged in his mind; he wanted to stop—he wanted her in the worst ways—but something indescribable within him was fighting to suffocate all wistful ideologies of his humanity.

She was so weak, so feeble—beautifully helpless beneath him. He thought he could hear his name being called in the distance, but then he realised it was a mellifluous voice murmuring in the faintest whisper—Tav. 

Something in her passive plea strengthened his morality, snapping him from his predatory enchantment, and he unlatched dutifully.

With knitted brows, he pressed the flat of his tongue to her wounds until the bleeding halted. He placed a chaste kiss of atonement on the injury, as he avoided her gaze by hiding in the crook of her neck.

At last, he released her wrist—as he ought to—but her hand found his, and she swiftly laced their fingers together. 

His eyes rounded and his brows canted up at her gesture. Perplexed, he moved from his sanctuary between her head and shoulder to study her face; however, her eyes were fixed on their dovetailing digits.

Eyeing her puncture wounds, he felt a pang of deep shame—an amalgam of unprocessable onyx and verdant hues that he would promptly stuff down into his disordered and congested corpus vault.

With a lithe knuckle, he tilted her head to face his, finding her eyes heavy and wet while her cheeks were flushed. Her chest heaved as she shared his gaze with blown-out pupils. Overall, her demeanour seemed serenely rapturous. 

"Why did you stop?" she breathed.

—Does she truly not know? he pondered. It seemed as though her compassion was boundless, to her detriment.

"Oh—you sweet, generous thing," he whispered.

Tav's reached to Astarion's face where she gently caressed his cheek, as her other hand remained affectionately tangled with his. Eyeing his lips, she analysed the blood on his chin, swiping it softly with her thumb. Her eyes fluttered up to meet his gaze once again, however, he was admiring her lips as she had his. Her seductively parted mouth adorned the same colour as her blushing cheeks.

Astarion's gaze flicked to Tav's again, as she caressed his cheekbone with her thumb. 

—Such a gentle little thing, he thought, and after what I've done to her. 

The firelight danced in her glistening, tired eyes, while her hair was gorgeously spread amongst her bedroll. She was like a deva—no, a goddess. She couldn't be real—it couldn't be possible that someone could forgive him for what he had done to her, let alone want him to continue. Though, Astarion bore an odd and novel concern for her well-being.

Tav slithered a trembling hand to the nape of his neck. "I want you if you'll have me," she exclaimed,  smiling earnestly. "Please, Astarion," she supplicated.

His name sounded melodic on her lips, as if she were a siren, pulling him in with her bewitching song—pulling him in, to drown in her. 

Their lips crashed like the waves in the Sea of Fallen Stars, their tongues exploring and tasting as they moaned into one another. Their kiss was bruising and sloppy; Astarion found he was enjoying more than just the flavour of her ichor. 

Tav made advances with her tongue as well, opening her mouth wide enough to let Astarion indulge, submitting to his plot. Her mouth tasted as minty as it smelled, and his, like her blood.

One of her hands carded through his locks, and the other splayed on his back. He rocked into her while groping her soft body—greedily exploring and reaching under her nightgown to grab her breast. He pinched her nipple, eliciting a muffled squeak from Tav whose mouth was still being thoroughly ravished. 

Releasing her mound, he skated his hand down to her folds at last, finding her soaked. Pleased, he withdrew from their kiss.

"You are positively dripping for me, darling," he purred, rubbing languid circles on her clit, causing her back to arch.

She groaned as her face contorted. "I want you inside me—please," she begged, her eyes round and pleading as her words drifted out in a meagre sigh. 

It was clear to him that Tav was suffering from blood loss by the way she futilely squirmed, seeking friction with what little might she had. He wanted to mitigate her illness; though, all he could do was capitulate to her desire.

"Only because you ask so sweetly." Astarion feigned dominance, knowing he would obligingly do anything she asked of him. 

He plunged two digits inside, stretching her weeping channel. She hummed her assent, encouraging him to curl his fingers seductively as he began getting her hole ready for his girth. Her jaw slackened, eyes fixed on his as wanton mewls spilt from her lips. 

With his free hand, he pushed her nightgown above her breasts, exposing her naked and writhing body to the night air. It hadn't occurred to him until then that they were in the middle of camp—the cleric and wizard could discover them, however Tav seemed unbothered. In addition, Astarion noticed that his senses felt much sharper since drinking her blood—he was confident that he would hear anyone coming long before they could see anything. 

He increased his pace, pumping into her consistently as he palmed her clit. 

Her lower muscles tensed, all while her breaths became frantic—he could feel her approaching her climax around him. The way her breasts moved in harmony with her heaving chest made her look even more delectable—he yearned to taste her tender mounds and to feel her hardened pebble in his mouth. 

His lips encapsulated her bosom, and he groaned at the feeling of her nipple when he flicked it with his tongue. He nipped and sucked, taking care not to break the skin as he savoured.

All at once, she cried his name, stuttering as she came on his merciful fingers. He pinched her nipple between his teeth before toying with it and suckling at her supple flesh enough to create a plethora of hickies. He ascended from her now limp body, a string of saliva connecting them as he sat up, finally withdrawing his fingers only to grope her beleaguered mound.

He began to generously fondle both of her breasts with either hand as she laid with her arms up, palms facing skywards, resting beside her head. She bit her lip with knitted brows as she allowed him to roam her body freely.

"Hmm—you're wonderful, Astarion," she hummed, smiling brightly.

"You're unbelievably beautiful," his sincere words slipped from his lips before he could ponder his intonation, just as he had hoped to avoid.

However, he only saw adoration in her eyes before bringing her into a molten kiss. He roamed her form with his grip, leaving red prints in its greedy wake before landing his strong grasp on her bottom.

Their lips flew apart as Astarion's length was straining unbearably against his pants. Without rising, he expertly unlaced his trousers and his large, glistening member sprang free. 

Glancing down, he witnessed her core and thighs, damp with her juices. He hooked her knees over his biceps and teased her entrance with his tip. He wanted to bury himself fully between her legs with reckless abandon, but he thought better of it, choosing to study her expression first.

Her brows were drawn together, pouting as she wiggled her hips, attempting to ease him inwards.

Astarion smirked, growling playfully at her impatience. "Please tell me if you want to stop. Can you do that for me?" he cooed, withholding his servitude in wait for her agreement.

“Mhm.” She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

Having heard her consent, he sunk his member into her in one slow, well-executed thrust. Her response to was immediate: her breath hitched, inhaling deeply through her mouth, and each exhale carried on an exasperated sigh as her respiration accelerated.

Instinctively, he panted as well as he felt himself stretching her inner walls. He felt himself leaking precum as his tip became snug with her cervix. However, her jaw was clenched and she breathed through gritted teeth, causing Astarion to lose confidence in her comfortability.

"Are you okay?" he prodded as he stilled inside her.

"Mm—yeah,” she hummed, “you're just so big, I've never had someone reach into me so deeply. It doesn't hurt, I promise. It feels so good,” she reassured.

“Oh darling—I'm going to fill you right up," he said, pulling out partially before snapping his hips into her with vehemence. 

He rutted into her at a consistent pace, reaching into her deeply thanks to her contorted position. Her warmth engulfed him, just as the fire that crackled beside them engulfed its wood. 

Reaching to her clit, he applied pressure in taut circles. He revelled in the understanding that he was stretching her mere millimetres below where his fingers caressed—and that her helpless body and wanting mind were surrendering to him as he worked her to her apogee.

Her mouth fell agape and she panted as her undulating thighs tensed expectantly. 

The sight of her open mouth created intruding thoughts of her flavour and texture. Oh—how he wanted to tie his tongue with hers. But he had an equally enticing idea: like a tongue, to wrap his words around her mind—to spread its folds and engender rapture.

“That's it. Good little lamb.”

Their combined needs were paradoxically synchronistic—he gazed down at her with a momentary desire to ruin her, while she looked up at him, yearning for destruction; her lower quivers as confirmation.

And how lucky was he? To flash his fangs at his prey, only for it to offer itself—sacrificially.

When she fluttered around him, he didn’t stop—he felt her unbidden grip on his length as if it were a desperate hold on the precipice of a steep mount. He wouldn't let go, he would only tangle her arm and pull her from demise. It is not the magma laying in wait below that shall end her—what waste that would be.

—When I am right here; and the honour belongs to me.

He readjusted her legs atop his shoulders until her knees were nearly beside her head. He was able to reach deeper into her than ever before, and his hardness was hitting her sweet spot at the perfect angle—for both her pleasure and his.

"Do you want me to fill you, darling? Is that what you want?" he teased, breathless as he fucked her ceaselessly.

"Yes," she begged, "please! I want you to feel good, too.”

Tension built in his lower abdomen at her words, and he couldn't help but stifle a moan. He hadn't felt this aroused—this hard for a long time, if ever; for he couldn't remember. It was as if the taste of her blood—the taste of freedom—had spurred a renewed feeling. The feeling: safety. . . he felt safe with Tav. 

No Cazador, no kennel, no chains. Only Tav, her celestial expression, and her blushing complexion due to his reverence.

He could feel her tight walls—wet and stretched, all for him. She felt so very ready to receive his bestowal, and she'd supplicated for it already.

He pressed himself—flush into her folded form as his orgasm crested. Groaning a deep rumble—he emptied himself into her, as his leaking tip compressed against her cervix.

As he came down from his euphoria, he rested his head at her side, placing chaste kisses on her neck—where he had bitten earlier. 

His length twitched as his jism spurted, overflowing her channel and inevitably dripping past their entanglement and onto the bedroll. He pulled out mere inches before snapping into her once more—thoroughly marking her with his essence.

Astarion savoured the feeling of his body—so close to Tav’s. . . inside her. Breathless, he brushed her hair away from her face, admiring her features—swollen lips and tired eyes. She'd been thoroughly ravished, and he anticipated that he'd be able to ravish her again—perhaps endlessly, he mused.

Finally, he pulled out of her, kissing her once more before rolling onto his back and pulling his trousers up.

Glancing at Tav, he bore witness to the ruinous and lewd display—the display he'd created. Her inner thighs were painted with their combined fluids, her neck adorned two crimson puncture wounds, and her nightgown was hiked up—past her breasts. Clearly, she'd been drained to the point of exhaustion, and at no fault of her own. 

Astarion sought to take care of her, given he was the one who'd made a mess of her. Additionally, the idea of leaving her the way she was caused his stomach to lurch—she deserved better than that, truly.

 “This won't do,” he said, scooping her up bridal-style which caused her to squeak.

He chuckled, her head leaning on his body as he carried her to his tent. Laying her down on his blankets, he smiled pridefully. 

“I'll only be a moment, I promise,” he whispered before retrieving his softest handkerchief from his bag and crouching out of his tent.

He soaked it with the cold river water, ringing it out before making long strides back to his tent—where Tav was.

He crouched into his tent to find her resting—peacefully with a subtle smile on her face.

"This is going to be a little cold. Apologies in advance," he cooed, running the damp cloth along her most vulnerable parts. She hummed in assent, her smile deepening as he cared for her body—beautifully used. 

Having finished, he cleaned himself with the same cloth and tossed it in his small wicker hamper.

Though the night was warm, Tav was bloodless and cold—she required blankets, surely. Unfortunately, he only owned two beige and boyish blankets that looked more like rags. To compensate, he hastily strode to Tav's tent to retrieve her bedding.

Once arriving back to her, he set her up with the proper accommodations; jostling her about like a sleepy doll. Astarion peered at Tav—snuggled up in the blankets—admiring his handiwork with pride.

Undressing completely, Astarion joined her under the blankets, facing her. Taking in her features, he brushed his fingers across her cheek and under her ear—his thumb, stroking her cheekbone.

He vowed to apologise in the morning; but for now, she was in his arms, smiling as she slept. 

Nuzzling into him, she pecked his hand, and his eyes rounded in response.

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before she turned around and pressed her backside against his groin. He initially froze, overwhelmed by her odd affection, but he soon embraced her into his arms, basking in her lavender scent.

He didn't understand the novel emotions that coursed through him, but he relinquished his uncertainty for another day, as he sought to simply enjoy his little victory—the compassionate woman in his arms.

Astarion joined Tav in her somnia, not yet realising that it'd be the most peaceful trance he'd had in two hundred years.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Notes: This was the first fictional story I'd written since I was a child, and it was terrible before I revised it but people seemed to like it, anyway :). Since starting this journey, I've learned a lot, and writing has *actually* become one of my biggest passions—all thanks to *your* continued support <3

MASTERLIST (Other works by me)

[planetdream]

AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !

CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader

GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 3.3k

SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk

💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3

There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.

About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 

Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 

By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 

It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 

When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.

You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 

You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.

As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 

The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 

The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 

Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 

But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’

“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 

He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 

Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 

Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 

He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 

While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 

Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 

Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 

“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 

“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 

“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   

In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 

You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 

“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”

His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”

“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”

His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 

Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 

He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 

You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 

Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”

He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”

Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 

He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.

It seems his fun little game has officially started. 

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Don’t know if you take writing prompts so if you don’t feel free to ignore this I have an idea for a dcxdp crossover ghost hunger au ( but only if you want otherwise it’s just Danny being able to eat anything and everything literally )ghost prince Danny au Redeemed Vlad au Vlad x Maddie x jack 

 Halfas were mistaken for a lot of things in mythology and being very rare they were often considered the “special ones” of whatever species they were mistaken for and the last halfa before Vlad was the one that inspired the novel of Dracula Yes there are vampires, but the one from the story of Dracula was not a vampire

Anyway, Danny trying to hide from the GIW decides to lean in on the mistaken identity, and what better city to do that in then Gotham, the one rumored to have monsters already patrolling its streets anyway Danny, gets mistaken for a vampire and Danny decides to roll with it setting up shop in an abandoned cathedral while trying to get the undead of Gotham back into the zone ( Grundy, the talons, Jason, and possibly a few others)

And Vlad occasionally has him going to galas for business (and practice for when Danny is the ghost king ) and of course, Danny continues the vampire act there too tone down, but still enough to give off an otherworldly vibe

I love this idea! I think I've only ever seen one other story about fake vampire Danny.

I'm not really able to write an actual story with world building or anything nice like that (trust me I've tried not pretty🫠😆), my stuff is usually just gibberish that I clean up a bit before posting, so I'm really sorry if you wanted an actual mini story.

~

But I'll try to do a little prompt!

~

Tell Me What I Am

There had been some odd rumors going around Gotham.

Those who were more sensitive said that the dead becoming aware, most didn't pay much truth to all that was being said.

Still everyone was more alert feeling like the entirety of Gotham was in the presence of something Other.

~

Jason didn't enjoy going to the galas when he was young and now as the recent 'No Longer Dead Wayne Child" he was forced to go once again.

He looked around trying to avoid all the rich snobs that were trying to push their daughters practically into his arms

He snorted at his thoughts, "Very much not my type."

Distracted he bumped into someone and oh-speaking of his type.

~

Danny didn't mean to bump into someone especially the guest of honor of the gala but it had been a while since he was able to properly eat something that actual filled him up and not just distracted his mind a bit before it came back,

So forgive him for being distracted and-

oh

oh?

Oh!

"You smell divine" he mumbled in between his suddenly overly sharp teeth

"..Wha-Thanks I guess?"

Danny's foggy mind suddenly snapped back into sharp focus once he felt Vlad call for him.

He quickly fled from the man

' Shit I almost bit him what the hell! '

~

Jason thought back to the night of the gala

"Hey B, do the Masters seem...odd to you?"

Bruce glance up from his work

"Did something happen?"

He thought about the sharp fangs suddenly in the young man's mouth alongside his comment feeling almost like prey under his intense gaze that pinned him in place with the sheer hunger and want in them.

How the older man pulled him away but not before Jason saw his eyes flash red for barely a second.

"....Maybe."

~

Just an Idea

Hope this was to your taste Anon!

[astarionancuntnin]

Hyello! I don’t know if you do requests but I thought I’d ask so the request is that x reader is honestly pretty badass and Astarion does something that pisses her off and so she barges into his tent after a long day to tell him off and fight him but decides that amidst the anger there is also hunger and decides theres a a way he can make it up to her and smutty content insues, preferably very like animalistic?? think closer by nine inch nails lol i do like the idea that they're both fighting for dominance in the interaction, you choose which one wins lol hope I’m not bothering you

did i listen to closer on repeat to bring you this? perhaps

and i never really put it out there, but hell yeah im taking requests! thank you for being my first <3

(also thank you for your patience i was heavily focused on my last chapters for die for you before approaching this ask and then it really went overboard LMAO you said "animalistic" and i took it literally, i hope you enjoy!)

Run, Little Fox

pairing: astarion x reader!ranger!tav

rating: E

word count: 5.1k

cw: 18+. smut, biblicaly accurate Astarion primal!astarion, predator/prey, knife play (if you squint), rivals/hate sex, mildly dubious consent, fighting for dominance, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, very slight somnophilia (but id rather mention it, never too safe)

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

That’s it. 

That was once too many.

This brat of a rogue had gotten on your nerves more times than you could recall, and today you decided you had enough. Your group trusted and respected your position as their leader, a brave and cunning ranger whose decisions everyone agreed with — as they were for the greater good — so why couldn’t he do the same? It wasn’t enough that he questioned your every move in front of everyone else, no, he grew bored of you ignoring his remarks. He just had to act on his impulses and get you in trouble this time. 

You had intended on getting information out of a group of adventurers, when he had tried to pickpocket them in the middle of your discussion, and when he got caught, things obviously went south. You tried to talk things down, but they wouldn’t hear it. One thing led to another and next thing you know, they laid in a pool of their own blood and you stood with no more information than you started with. All of it, because of him, and he had the gall to say it was your own fault for not defusing the situation better. Really?!

The stress of this adventure — the impending doom that those tadpoles in your brains were — was already enough weight on your shoulders, you didn’t want to deal with Astarion’s trickery on top of it anymore. No — you couldn’t. You had enough of his unnerving attitude; enough of his shameless flirting when it was clear you weren’t interested; enough of his impetuous disdain and insolence that matched your own. Tonight, you would set the record right.

Once back at camp after this horrendous, unending day by his side, the first thing you do after dropping your loot and equipment at your tent, is bolt straight for Astarion’s. 

Still covered in a mix of your sweat, today’s unfortunate souls’ blood — and your own — you burst through the entrance of Astarion’s tent without so much as a warning to find him peacefully laying, with one arm behind his head and the other already flipping through the pages of a book he had found, and most certainly stolen, during today’s stroll.

He barely lifts his head to notice your intrusion, his eyes darting your way, half-lidded. “Looking for a cuddle?” 

The sheer audacity of the smirk he gives you. 

“You—” You fully step into his tent, staring him down with an anger that couldn’t be contained, as you close the flaps behind you, “Have been a pain in my ass for long enough.”

He scoffs, “Darling, we haven’t been close like that yet — unless this is your way of asking?” He closes his book and puts it aside to focus on you, as he rests on his elbows, his taunting smile never leaving his lips. What you wouldn't give to wipe it away from his smug face.

“The last thing I want is you anywhere near me.”

“You see,” he checks his nails, bored. “I have a hard time believing that, dear.”

“Get over yourself.” You cross your arms over your chest, annoyed at how well he could annoy you. “What makes you think I want anything to do with you after the commotion you caused today?”

“For one, you came to me, in my tent. If that's not a dead giveaway, I don't know what is,” his eyes dart back to you. “And to further prove that point, you still haven’t left — even though you claim I am the reason for your frustration. Really, it's as if you relished my company after all.”

You open your mouth to contradict him, but your words are left hanging when he gets up, his shirt slightly unbuttoned revealing the lines of his muscles concealed underneath and you can’t help but let your eyes wander longer than you intended, gulping as you do so. He chuckles lightly before he speaks up again.

“Secondly, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.”

Your eyes shoot up to his face again, and you ask defensively, “Would you rather have me not look at you?”

He gives you a mischievous look as he eyes you up and down, and he meets your gaze with just as much intensity.

“Third, and lastly, I can smell you, darling.”

“I haven't washed yet.”

“You know that isn't what I'm referring to.”

Your heartbeat quickens, as the air seems to draw out of the tent, “Well, whatever you think this is, isn't your doing,” you lie plainly in the hopes he buys it, but his smirk leads you to believe he sees right through it.

“You’re not fooling anyone but yourself, dearest.” He tilts his head, a long silence settling in between the two of you, with your breathing as the only sound audible in the space of his tent. “Maybe… There's another reason you might be frustrated. That all this, pent up anger building inside, is because of something else that you can’t control.” He closes the distance between the two of you, stopping but a whisper away from your face, and his voice gets lower, deeper. “Something that you would rather not have to deal with, but for some reason just can’t get rid of. Something that just rubs you the wrong way, and is the same reason why you can’t help but want to stay in my presence.” 

You scoff, challenging his gaze, “If that something you’re referring to is you, Astarion, then you’re right — you are the sole reason of my frustration as of late, but I could do without your irritating presence.”

“Oh, but I could make it much more pleasurable.” 

You lean back, and turn your head aside, trying to make some distance between the two of you, ”You give yourself too much credit.”

He slides a finger down your throat, leaving an unexpected shiver in its wake as he exposes your neck, when he pushes your vagabond strands of hair away, before he continues.

“Why don’t you give me a chance to show you exactly what I mean? We would both benefit from this, really; I could fix your predicament, and in exchange, I could receive… a little something from you in return.”

You contemplated the opportunity laid before you for just a second before opting for the reasonable choice. You grab his hand, pulling it away from you and when you speak up again, the anger in your voice is gone, leaving place for your much smoother, yet very assertive tone. “If you want my blood, you’ll have to earn it.”

You release his hand and he keeps it in the air where you left it, cocking his head to the side as he looks at where your hand had held him, “Earn it, you say?”

You nod, “We wouldn’t want you to become soft now, would we?” A smile of your own takes place on your lips. “If I am to be your meal, it’s only fair that you work for it.”

His eyes dart back to yours as a smirk appears on his lips, “I’m all pointy ears.”

“I’ll be hiding in the woods. If you can find and catch me, you get to drink from me. But if I catch you instead, you’re never getting a drop from me.”

He sighs, “That’s hardly a fair proposition, darling.” As you’re about to contradict him, he continues, “Here’s mine instead: if you catch me, fine — I’ll keep chasing boars and whatnot in the woods — but if I catch you…” He leans over the crook of your neck, whispering. “I get to drink from you every. night.”

You grab him by the chin, bringing him face to face with you, “If I catch you, you don’t get to put the party at risk anymore. You will be kicked out of the camp if you do.” If you had to put your vitality on the line, he had to bet something just as valuable.

His fangs glow in the faint lighting of his tent as he smiles. “Deal.”

You drop his chin as he steps back and you notice how something about him seems to be shifting; the pupils of his eyes widen, darkening; his own breathing stops; the hands at his side turning into claws, with his long and sharp nails peaking out, ready to hunt. There was nothing left of the rogue in distress that you picked up a few weeks ago, who could’ve pretended to be nothing more than an innocent, but rather pale, elf. 

When he opens his mouth to speak again, you spy his elongated fangs; much longer than you remember them to be, and his voice—

“Run.”

You don’t lose a second more; the vision of nightmares before you triggered your fight or flight reaction and without your weapons, the choice was clear. You turn around and slide through the flaps of his tent, bolting straight for your tent, where you quickly manage to pick up your trusty dagger and your set of bow and arrows.

Thankfully, everyone else at camp had gone off to bed, so no one notices you as you pick a frantic run towards the deep woods, making distance from the hungry vampire on your tracks. 

The woods are dark, with only the faint light of the moon guiding your tracks. Once far enough, or so you think, you hide behind a tree to control your breathing; you had no intention to lose to this, you needed all the advantages you could get. With your experience as a ranger, you were almost assured to catch him off guard.

Almost.

What you had seen in his tent before sprinting off was like nothing you had ever seen before. Of course, you knew Astarion was a vampire, but this was… different.

Terrifying. 

A beast, straight out of those scary bedtime stories you recall from your childhood; a monster guided by his thirst for flesh and blood, who would show no mercy, no remorse. It was merely enough to make you question this challenge with him, Gods, how embarrassing would it be to lose your life to a stupid game you had initiated purely out of spite?

The rustling of leaves nearby brings you back into focus, the adrenaline in your veins keeping you on edge for any sound. You ready your bow before you peek out of your hiding spot to aim where you heard the sound and wait patiently for another moment, your eyes never leaving the bush right until you hear another crack — right when you release the arrow, your aim striking true as you hear a loud thud. You wait a few more seconds, and when no sound can be heard from the bushes you leave your cover, advancing towards your prey. When you push the branches away, you’re face to face with none other than—

A boar.

Shit. Well — guess you caught your next meal.

Another rustling of leaves has you drawing out your bow again, ready to strike, but you’re unable to tell where it comes from.

“How does it feel, little fox?” You hear him through the woods, his deep and raspy, but unnatural voice almost echoing through you. “To be the one being hunted?”

“I’m hunting you, too, in case you forgot,” you mumble mostly to yourself, not wanting to draw out more attention and telling on your location. 

Although you were confident in your capacities, you couldn’t deny the fear building up in your chest. The unnerving feeling of knowing he was around, knowing he was onto you, but unable to find him through the dense woods, the reminder of what he looked like before you ran for your life, a creature of darkness—

“Keep running, you delicious little thing,” his voice already seems to be coming from somewhere else, where exactly you couldn't tell, as if he was constantly moving and it came from everywhere all at once. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

Damn him. He could be anywhere, it was useless to stay there, out in the open, when he was clearly onto you. Then again, he could also intentionally be pushing you to run, only to lead you into a trap of his, right where he wanted you to be. 

No, you’re smarter than this. You won't let your emotions get in the way of this: you were a hunter, born and raised for this kind of situation.

He is just another prey; you can outsmart him. You are better than him.

You put away your bow and arrows; you know your long range weapons would be of no use to you if you couldn’t see your target. If he’s trying to make you run, he has to be further ahead, so the smart choice would be to go back on your tracks.

You turn on your heels in a heartbeat and start sprinting in the opposite way, not even bothering to look behind you for any sign of him, as you hear the clear rustling of branches around you. At this moment, you know he’s right on your tail, the sounds of the forest barely covering the sound of his own movements between the trees — if that was even him. You assume it is, but who’s not to say it isn’t just another boar? Either way, all you can do now is keep running, hoping he will tire before you.

But you were against a creature of the night, someone — or rather something, now — much more in its element, in the darkness of the woods, than you were. 

You don’t run for long before you stop abruptly in your tracks to change directions, leaving the clear road for the crowded forest, where you think you could lose him.

You're temporarily reassured when you don't hear him anymore, and allow yourself to breathe again. Your heart is pounding in your chest, faster than ever, as the fear of being chased — of your life being on the line — created a warmth within you that pooled right down to your core. The risk of being caught, as for once you’re the prey, and you can’t explain it, but it excites you. Although Astarion had gotten on your every nerve, you had to give it to him — he was right that his unnerving attitude had gotten a rise out of you in the most carnal way — but you’d never admit it to his face.

A good minute passes by with no sign of him, and you feel safe enough to peek out of your hiding spot, investigating the beaten path for any sign of life. When you’re met with a dead silence, you move away from the tree you had been leaning against, only to come face to face with Astarion, who drops from the branches just above you. His eyes are somehow a much deeper shade of red, his pupils fully blown out, and he even seems taller as he smiles down on you, and that’s when you perceive the additional fangs that appeared next to the smaller ones you knew. 

You’re fixated on his sudden presence, assessing your opponent the way you would a wild animal, and you remain unmoving, focused on your own breathing.

“Nowhere left to run, I’m afraid,” the voice that comes out of his mouth is otherworldly, almost a growl and nothing like his sultry voice he used to try and charm you before. It’s as if anything that once made him pass as a mortal was gone the second you ran off from him.

You want to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction, but he's faster than your thoughts. Before you can even move a finger, he grabs you by your neck, his sharp nails digging into your skin enough to draw blood as he pushes you against the nearest tree, slightly lifting you from the ground. Instinctively, you reach for your dagger, but he is fast to catch onto your intentions and takes it away from you, throwing it on the ground far from reach. With no other options left, you reach for his hand around your neck, trying to hold on as your vision blurs from the chokehold he had on you. 

“Caught you, little fox,” he leans into your neck where you bled from to breathe you in, and licks your skin from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw, tasting your sweat mixed with the dry blood left on you. Your camp clothing leaves you dangerously exposed as opposed to your armour, and he had every intention to take advantage of it. “You will make a fine meal indeed.”

He presses his entire body against you, and you can feel not only his oddly cold breath down your neck, but also his hard bulge rubbing against your navel, right above the heat between your legs. 

A particularly bad idea crosses your mind, and you know you’ll blame it on the lack of oxygen later, but for now, it’s the only option you have.

Your hand slides down to his crotch, where you squeeze his length through his trousers, making him shudder against you and loosening his grip on your throat. You take this chance to free yourself as you quickly push him away and against the earthy ground of the forest, pinning him down using your entire body weight. You land right next to your knife and grab it just in time before he comes to his senses, now holding it against his throat.

“I win,” you say, breathless, over him.

You remain unmoving, with the threat of your knife keeping him in place, but unsure what to do next — until he laughs. You’re taken aback, but you keep your position, pressing your blade deeper into his throat.

“Well done.” His voice softens, still deeper than what you’re used to, but less guttural than it was a minute ago. “You have me completely and utterly helpless. What will you do next, I wonder?”

You don’t get to answer before you feel him moving under you, his hardness rubbing against that sweet spot between your legs. Your breathing quickens once again, caught off guard by the delicious movement of his hips against you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

“Fulfilling my part of the bargain, of course.”

“That’s not—” he lifts his hips higher, the tip of his crotch rubbing against your clit, and your body tenses at the contact. He’s rock hard and between your thin camp clothes, it's almost as if you were rubbing skin to skin against each other. A pleasurable shiver running across your spine, and you allow yourself to close your eyes for just a moment, fighting between giving in to your desires or stopping yourself from letting this go any further; it was clear which side of you was winning over, as your hunger for that something more was becoming impossible to ignore. You soften your grip on his wrist and your dagger against his throat, and that’s all he needs to gain back dominance over you, flipping you back under him and seizing your wrists to pin you down the same way you had him only seconds ago.

“Now,” he says, “this is much better, don’t you think?”

“Oh you prick,” you groan, fighting to free yourself from his grip on you, but he only tightens his grasp around your wrists. His immortal strength beats yours and your hand twists under his crushing grip, making you finally release your knife.

You curse under your breath for letting yourself be bested by the most annoying member of your party; the one who you had dreamed to put back in his place was now dominating you instead. A mix of anger and shame swirls in your stomach, along with something else that you want to deny, but can’t for the life of you understand.

Your eyes meet his, dark and hungry and so incredibly close to you. His lack of breath is strange in comparison to yours, so heavy that your chest rises with each breath you take, brushing against him. It wasn't a position you were used to, either, and you find yourself liking it more than you thought you would; with his entire body pining against yours, his legs surrounding yours and keeping them closed together, your wrists held strongly above your head; a prey caught by her predator.

You remain unmoving in this position for what feels like an eternity, until he licks his lips, his eyes falling to the space in your neck that was exposed just for him.

He leans into you, his deep voice shooting a warmth straight to your core. “This little game of yours made me quite hungry.”

You gasp when you feel his bulge rubbing against you once more and touching that sweet spot that made you rub your thighs together. 

“Perhaps,” he whispers, “you've grown an appetite of your own, little fox?”

You take a few breaths, "If you wanna feed, be my guest. You…” you sigh, defeated. “You earned it. Just— be quick about it.”

You turn your head aside, looking away and giving him space to feed, only for him to lean back, “Quick? Oh darling, you’re mistaken if you don’t think I won’t draw this out as long as I possibly can.”

He pushes your wrist up above your head where he can hold them both with one hand, while his other hand slides down to your chest, his sharp nails grazing against the curve of your breast. You close your eyes as his hand continues its journey down your navel, and into your pants, rubbing against the moist spot that kept growing in your panties.

“But don’t worry — I’ll make sure we both get our fill tonight,” he growls.

Your hips move of their own accord, wanting more of him and his touch, almost against your own will.

“Greedy, greedy, little fox.” He flashes a toothy smile, “Can't get enough? I'm not surprised.”

Your eyes open back up and you stare at him, frustrated, “Gods, do you ever shut up?”

“You have such a way with words.” He sighs, pulling his hand out of your pants. “You know, it's a wonder we haven't gotten killed because of your social prowess.”

“If you think you’re so much better than me, why don’t you—”

His lips collide with yours into an hungry kiss, one bold enough to shut you right up. A part of you is disgusted, furious, even, that he would push himself onto you, but your body’s reaction betrays you, as you kiss him back with the same intensity. It’s sloppy, his elongated tongue invading your mouth and rubbing against yours, until he bites into it and sucks, letting your crimson hit his lips. 

You moan as you pull back, rolling your tongue around to feel the puncture he made, and he smiles down on you, his teeth tainted by your blood.

“Ah… delicious.”

Something comes over you, a supernatural strength — almost animalistic — and you flip him back around on his back to take control once again. Your dishevelled hair frames your face over him, and he gets to see you panting, teeth bared, with angry eyes towering over him. There's a flash of surprise in his eyes before they take back their lusty look, and his hands fly to your shirt, ripping it open as his nails tear through the fabric as if it were air. Your shirt is quickly discarded, exposing your skin to the cool night air that raises the hairs on your back.

In the frenzy, you give the same treatment to his shirt, using that strength to destroy his clothing and revealing the very muscles you spied earlier in his tent. He raises himself up to meet you where you sat over his hips, his mouth finding yours  and kissing you feverishly as he did before, while his hands work to remove your pants. 

With a grunt from him, you're pushed back on the harsh forest ground where he rips away your trousers, leaving you only with your panties to cover you. You gasp into his mouth, breathing in his cold breath, when the night air that matches his breath hits the thin fabric of your undergarments. The shock of temperature affects you more than you had anticipated, as you are completely soaked from your arousal that had pooled down there since the beginning of the night. Astarion instantly notices it, and laughs ominously.

“Are you still going to deny it now?” He pushes your underwear aside and slides his dexterous fingers between your folds, discovering just how dire your situation is. “Hells, look at how wet you are, just for me.”

His fingers feel good, and fucking Hells you didn’t want to admit it — he was an absolute asshole — but that ship had sailed a while ago, and now you just wanted to know how good he would feel inside you.

“If you still want to feed, you better do it now before I change my mind,” you groan.

“Change your mind?” He scoffs. “I'm afraid that isn't an option. I won fair and square, little fox; now I get to devour you every night.” He flips you around, the sudden roughness of the earthy floor rubbing against your sensitive nipples making you gasp in surprise. You feel him move behind you, and you're not sure how or when it happened, but he must've removed his own trousers as you feel the ghost of his cock hovering just over your entrance. Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest with anticipation, and this feeling goes into your throat when he grabs you by the nape of your hair and pulls you into him, making you arch your back and clearly exposing your neck to him in the process. “Starting tonight.”

Within the same beat, he thrust into you, his hips slamming hard against your skin, and his fangs dive into the crook of your neck, finally taking what is rightfully his.

You cry out at the stabbing pain in your neck, this one much more different than the first time he bit you, as his elongated fangs dive deeper into your neck to draw out more of your life source, and the additional fangs leave more marks into your skin. It hurts and yet, you find your core growing warmer and wetter; between his bite and his reckless thrusting into you, with the added sensation of his initially cool skin getting warm from your blood. His thrusts gain in speed and force, and in that position, there is nothing else you can do but take it.

Even as you try to reach behind you with that last remaining will to have control, to grab his hair and pull him forward, Astarion takes a hold of your arm and pushes back against you, using his entire body weight to hold you firmly against the rough ground, and his hips to slam into your needy, little cunt. With your hair still pulled back, but your wrist now stuck in his grasp, he continues to take his fill of you with no restriction.

“Look at you, finally put in your place,” he growls as he licks up the drops of blood leaking from the fresh wounds in your neck. “Is this what you’ve been desiring all these times your eyes got lost at the sight of my body? What you’ve been dreaming of? To be properly used, like a bitch in heat? Ravaged by a beast?”

You manage to get a few words out between rushed breaths, sneering.

“F— Fuck. Y— You.”

He snickers wickedly, “I guess that answers my question. Don’t worry, pet. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh you—”

“Shh now,” Before you can even finish your sentence, his hand quickly moves from your wrist to your mouth, muffling any sounds coming from you. “We wouldn’t want to risk waking our dear friends, now, would we? Unless that’s what you want?” You groan in the palm of his hand and he chuckles. “You depraved little thing. I’ll give you just what you desire.”

His hand previously holding your hair goes down your body to hold your hips in place as he fucks you, and his teeth sink into your shoulder on the other side of your neck. The gesture meant only to keep you steady as he fucks you senseless. With his fangs deep into your skin, his nails cutting the soft skin of your hips and his dick pounding your abused cunt, you scream into his hand as you reach your climax. It’s nerve wracking, mind shattering, and leaves you completely drained. 

With a final push inside you, Astarion’s hips still and he growls into your neck, taking his last sip of you, as he pulses around your inner walls, filling you up with his warm seed. Your muscles fail you, as your body goes limp against the earthy ground, and you barely feel anything else — leaving you almost unconscious. Behind you, Astarion pulls out of you, and a weak moan escapes you as you feel his load leaking out of you.

While you’re recuperating from this treatment, Astarion loses his monstrous features: his nails retract, his pupils go back to those annoyingly charming red ruby eyes, his fangs retract just enough to fit back into his mouth, and he mimics breathing again; now passing as a mortal again.

With the minimal strength you manage to gain back, you push yourself up, and gather the few pieces of clothes that were shredded during your nightly session; tomorrow you would definitely need to find new camp clothes, these were the only ones you had and they were utterly ruined. Thank the Gods everyone else was fast asleep and you’ll be able to walk back to your tent without any remarks.

As you’re about to take your leave, completely disregarding the rogue who looked just as messy as you were, you hear him clear his throat.

“It’s always a pleasure to be doing business with you, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

You roll your eyes before shooting him a glare. “Don’t push your luck.” Your cheeks still flushed, your hair all over the place, and your form barely clothed, making you not as convincing as you had hoped for. 

You only catch a glimpse of his smirk in response to you as you walk away, and when you catch yourself actually looking forward to it, you tell yourself it's only for the opportunity to put him back in his place. 

Perhaps another white lie to coat your true feelings, but no one needed to know about that.

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[klausysworld]

Hey hey! I was wondering if you could write a one-shot imagine about Klaus meeting a female angel who ends up being his soulmate? The angel is very skeptical at first because of all the things Klaus has done over the years and Klaus is drawn to her innocence and purity like some masochistic predator playing with its prey. In the end, Klaus becomes the overprotective loving mate he's known to be (could end in smut if you wish) Thank youuu <3

In Life and Death

The Mikaelsons had been first introduced to the Underworld and the Heavens nearly 800 years ago when demons managed to find their way on Earth again. They had caused more havoc than the entire vampire race at the time and fought the Mikaelson's to the point where Klaus truly believed they would drag him down to hell.

The only reason that they hadn't was because a group of angels had stopped them. They argued that the Mikaelsons at that point still had the chance for redemption and that they shouldn't be targeted for a lifestyle that was forced upon them.

The demons were obviously enraged with the angels ruining their time on Earth and once everyone returned home, there was a minor war over who got to go to Earth and how often. The only way to obtain some sort of peace was to agree for nobody to go to Earth. They may hear about it in the papers and occasionally watch large events however no angel nor demon would step foot or wicng on that land.

This remained so for the next 800 years until a curious angel accidentally opened the portal back up.

Y/n had always been interest in everything that was new. Her father had scolded her for it as her mother had been just the same. Unfortunately it had been curiosity that had resulted in her mothers demise and this was the main reason her father so desperately wanted her to stay quiet and obedient to the rules to ensure her safety.

Much to his dissatisfaction, she didn't follow those guidlines.

It was difficult really. She wasn't bad, nor did she misbehave. She was very well behaved and lovely, she just got distracted rather easily and drawn to pretty things. But never were her intentions to cause any sort of upset or distress.

Y/n just couldn't help herself from touching every shiny or soft thing within reach, wanting to know what it was and what it did. Coincidentally, the case which the portal was hidden inside was covered in shells and pearls. She hadn't meant to be sucked into it.

And she certainly didn't mean to waken up completely naked in the middle of the woods with only her wings to cover her exposed skin.

Her vision was impaired for couple minutes before she came to. The sky was bright and blue while her surroundings were mostly shades of brown and the occasional green.

It had been a pack of werewolves who found her and took her to their little homes within the Bayou. Jackson, as the alpha, had taken responsibility of the peculiar girl. He and Mary had helped her into some low back clothes, careful not to touch her wings. Y/n found herself unable to move or speak for hours as she adapted to the harsh change of environment. Her consciousness came and went every few minutes and occasionally her wings would stretch out making the wolves back up out of cautious and intrigue.

A few of the others wolves brought some water to her and they helped her drink it. After a while she began to fully wake. By which point the sky had deepened and darkened to an almost obsidian. Jackson and Mary had fallen to sleep and didn't notice how the angel slipped down from the bed, feeling the grainy ground against her feet as she walked on wobbly legs and held her arms out to balance herself. It was strange. Her body was pulled down much more than usual and everything felt heavy rather than feather-light.

Thankfully she still had her wings and so with a couple flutters of her feathered support and she was hovering just above the surface. What she didn't realise was that the beating of her wings against the air caused a cool breeze to brush over here company and cause them to wake.

Jackson had quickly jumped up and began to gain her attention. Y/n was startled and ended up accidentally smacking him with her wing only to then hysterically apologise and hold onto him. What was particular was that when her hand touched his skin a rush of calmness came over him. His limbs went weak and he had to push his hand against the wall beside him to keep himself up.

Once Mary woke back up she managed to get Y/n to sit back down and tell them who she was and how she got there. Both wolves had been almost awestruck with the soft, hypnotic tone of her voice. Neither of them questioned her story, it was quite clear her wings were real and from the way she looked around with wonder it was obvious everything was new. But of course there was also sadness and worry in her tone when she spoke of her father and how he much think something dreadful had happened to herb and how she needed to get home.

Mary was against Jackson's decision to go to Hayley in hopes that she or the Mikaelsons may be able to help her get back to the heavens.

Hayley had come to the Bayou after receiving a very vague text from her betrothed. She was expecting something bad to have happned from his lack of information however when a flash of white whipped past her, giggling and squealing with two young children holding onto her wings, well Hayley really didn't know what was going on.

A moment later Mary came out, huffing and puffing for breath and yelling for them to be careful not to fall.

Unfortunately, Y/n hadn't abided to this suggestion and ended up falling over a log when the little ones were chasing her in their game of 'catch the fairy', despite her persistently informing them that she was not a fairy.

Jackson came rushing out a moment later to pick Y/n up. Her knees and hands were scraped red as path of tears slipped from her pain filled eyes. Her wings wrapped around him for comfort and Hayley found herself staring completely baffled.

Jackson caught sight of Hayley as he was carrying Y/n back to the hut and smiled, calling for her to come with him. She followed eagerly and listened as he explained what had happened in a hushed whisper while Mary shook her head and cleaned up the angels grazes. Y/n was horrified at the red substance that had pooled in her palms and Mary had to insist that she wouldn't die and go to the underworld for being so irresponsible.

It took very little convincing for Hayley to ring Elijah and inform him of the situation to which he too was instantly intrigued and willing to help. He said to bring the angel to the Abattoir this evening so that they could meet her formally and reluctantly Jackson agreed and gently convinced Y/n to go. Hayley watched with a small sizzle of jealousy as Y/n clung onto Jackson with all her will as he helped her weave through the streets in a way that wouldn't let her wings be seen by pedestrians. Thankfully it was dark so it would've been more difficult to see but still alarming.

Thankfully they made it with little hassle and got to the door which was immediately opened by an impeccably dressed Elijah. His eyes beaming as he took in the beautiful creature before him. Hayley cleared her throat and Elijah quickly greeted them all politely, bringing them inside before closing the door.

They were lead to a large dinner table where a stoppy Klaus wait at the head of the table and an excited Rebekah reside next to him. Her eyes lit up as she caught glimpse of pristine white wings and sat up straight. Elijah's voice filled the room as he spoke to the girl.

"In the past we have met with people from your home, they were kind to us then and so I hope to return the favour. I am certain that we'll be able to help you find your way home however I can't confirm how long this may take. Until then, we hope to make your stay on Earth as well as we can and in doing so we have set up a room for you-" he explained however was cut off my Jackson who argued she already had somewhere to stay.

Klaus snickered in response and rose from his chair "Pretty little things like her don't want to be out in the dirt" he quipped, narrowing his eyes on the wolf before him making Y/n frown and tug on Jackson's sleeve and whisper to go back to the Bayou. Elijah glared at his brother and apologised for his behaviour before coaxing everyone into their seats.

Klaus at the head with Rebekah to his right side, Elijah beside her and Y/n to his right with Jackson beside her and Hayley beside him. Y/n had slid to the edge of her chair in an attempt to be further away from Klaus. She didn't like the aura around him, aggressive power rolled off him in waves only she could physically see and feel and on top of that she could sense the distrust between him and Jackson. Y/n trusted Jackson, he kept her safe and looked after.

Klaus however didn't like how her hands held onto Jackson's jacket and her body leaned on his. For some reason it made his glare harden and his jaw clench uncomfortably. Rebekah was the first to talk. She couldn't help but gush over having a girl, no an angel in the Abattoir. She had fallen for an angel 800 years ago and he had adored Rebekah, they had even given her a necklace hand carved by a god to prove his feelings for her. It hurt both of them when he was no longer able to return to her world however over time they both moved on and began to forget.

However she was incredibly eager to get to know Y/n and befriend her. She wanted to learn all about how the heavens had developed. So she began to chat, and chat and chat.

Until eventually Klaus groaned and had the first course brought in, hoping that his dear sister would quieten down if she were eating. His eyes glanced over to Y/n as she looked to Rebekah like a deer caught in headlights and questions were fired at her left, right and centre. "Enough Rebekah, you're scaring her" he snapped as a small plate filled with colourful foods were placed in front of her.

She started at it in confusion before timidly trying it as the rest of them ate. The taste was bizarre and she couldn't stop herself from spitting it out with a noise of disgust. Elijahs brows rose while Klaus let out a laugh and took her plate away "Not for you love?" he questioned, amused as she went a beat red and wiped her mouth.

"I'm sorry" she told him sincerely, reaching for the plate back "I can eat it" she whispered but he shook his head.

"Not if you don't like it. We'll get you something better" He argued, taking it back to the kitchen making her sink in her chair, embarrassed. Jackson rubbed her arm soothingly while Elijah, Rebekah and Hayley looked at each other in confusion of Klaus's strange behaviour.

It was quiet as he returned before they all ate their starters and glanced across at each other, Klaus in particular couldn't keep his eyes off of Y/n. His fingers tingled with anticipation to feel her wings. Her feathers looked softer than clouds and he wondered how far they could stretch out, how fast she could fly or how high.

Briefly his gaze flicked to her legs only for his brows to furrow when he noticed the bandages wrapped around her knees.

"What happened here, sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers hovering over the covered skin putting Jackson on edge.

"I was playing with the young ones and collided with a branch or a stone- was it a branch or a stone?" she questioned, turning to Jackson with a quizzical expression.

"It was a log, it's like a branch only thicker" he explained and she nodded.

Klaus couldn't help the small chuckle that left him resulting in Rebekah smacking his side.

"What were you playing?" She asked, her voice gentle as she encouraged her new friend to share the earlier events.

"Well they called it 'catch the fairy' however I am not a fairy...but they didn't really understand that so I just went with it I suppose...is that allowed? Or is that technically a lie?" her voice grew quiet and she made eye contact with Elijah who only shook his head.

"Not a lie at all. You were very kind to the children to indulge in their games." he reassured and she silently nodded.

The group then continued to eat and spoke occasionally about the possibility of Y/n staying the night at the compound so she may use the bath tub and they can have clothes altered to her so that her wings may be comfortable. Eventually she agreed but Jackson also had to stay, much to the Mikaelsons disapproval. He stayed in Hayleys bed which made Y/n's eyes wide when she whispered to Rebekah that they should not be going to bed together without a binding marriage in place.

Rebekah had helped wash Y/n's wings in the bath before having a hairdryer in each hand in an attempt to dry them while the angel squealed and squirmed at the combination of heat and noise coming at her.

Eventually she was ready for rest. Klaus had peeked into the room she was to be staying in to see her dressed in a soft halter style top and comfy pyjama bottoms. The luscious skin of her back was on display to him as well as her slowly moving wings while she let Rebekah fit her hair into a silk bonnet. A melodic giggle sent a shiver down his spine making his fits clench and eyes squeeze shut for a second.

There was an insistent pull that he felt towards her. Whether it was simply because she was new and different or because she seemed so pure and innocent.

As the next day rolled around he found himself watching as she ate her breakfast from the doorway. His eyes followed the fork all the way to her lips and back down again for every bite.

Eventually she felt his gaze and looked back at him, her eyes wide as she swallowed down her last piece. A slight smirk was visible across his face as he made his way over and took her place, rinsing it off and placing it in the dishwasher before taking her delicate hand and leading her to the outside area.

It was covered in flowers and other pretty plants. Klaus let go of her and gestured for the sky.

"It's safe for you to fly in this area, the public cannot see you so long as you don't go beyond those hedges" He told her while pointing to the surrounding greenery that acted as a barrier.

Her eyes lit up and her immediate reaction was she throw her arms around the hybrid. Klaus went stiff when he felt her touch. Something about it was so incredibly soothing that he felt as though his body was melting against her. Without meaning to his body curled around her, keeping her against him as a wave of peace washed over him.

Eventually she pulled away, bringing him back to reality as he watched her take off into the hair and spin in circles so that her wings could truly stretch. He left outside to play while he got back to his duties though he would often glance from his window to see her coaxing small animals from their burrows and surrounding herself in the natural environment.

Something stirred inside him as she sat against the soft grass with a young rabbit in her lap, squirrels birds and little rodents all sitting around her and listening as she spoke a language not even he, the original hybrid, knew.

She was a gorgeous thing, he had decided.

It was obvious that she was from the heavens, if not her looks then her delicacy. Day in and day out he had yet to see any sort of anger bubble within her. She was unbelievably sweet, annoyingly so. However whenever he tried to pull a rise from her, guilt would swallow him when tears of light formed in her beautiful round eyes and he realised he hadn't caused rage but devastation and misunderstanding. Y/n would think that he hated her and she would want to go back to the bayou so Klaus would apologise and promise she hadn't ever upset him.

Her innocence was to be cherished, he realised.

She was the polar opposite of him, she was soft and gentle. Pure and clean compared to his rough and tainted soul. Usually it was something he found to be weakness and wanted to destroy but his instincts pulled through and screamed at him to protect and possess.

So he began to brush close to her.

He found that it wasn't just him who felt the peace that her touch carried, it wasn't just him who wanted to feel it some more.

Which meant that he needed to get his scent on her.

It was far easier than he had imagined. All he had to do was tell her that he really needed a hug and she would soften in a second to have him in her hold and feeling her unconditional comfort. Her wings would hold him close and often act as a blanket of sorts.

Too many times they had woken up asleep against each other, far too comfortable to complain as he snuggled her feathers and she warmed in response to the physical touch.

Klaus had managed to convince her that sleeping beside each other was not damning and that she would still be welcomed back to heaven. He would never let her go to hell. Never.

The only problem for Klaus was that under no circumstances would she ever consider the possibility of sex if she were not bound to him.

The hybrid hadn't considered marriage since his days of being a mere human. However he could not help the yearn that his soul, body and mind held for her. It was not just a physical desire but an emotional and spiritual.

Weeks went by, Elijah, the wolves and Davina were still trying to find a way for Y/n to get home but Klaus desperately wanted her to stay forever.

He had been trying to teach her how to live in a human world. Simple things like riding a bike and playing card games. He would hide his amusement behind his smile when she got that competitive fire inside her which almost always resulted in the cards being thrown and the angel storming off only to return five minutes later apologising for expressing wrath to which he would dismiss.

"I promise you, my love, in no way is that wrath. You couldn't commit a sin if your tried to."

Y/n would smile and shyly request that maybe they wouldn't keep playing the game and perhaps move onto something else. Klaus wouldn't ever deny her wishes and so would find something knew.

At some point Jackson would come over and ruin Klaus's fun as he watches Y/n fly over to the dirty mutt and start asking a hundred questions about how he and the others were. Once Jackson finally left, Rebekah would turn up or Elijah and take Y/n's attention again. Klaus would get annoyed, jealous but he knew he couldn't get angry. He got violent when he was angry and that would definitely not sit well with the darling creature that owned his heart.

So he would wait for her to go do something before whisper arguing with his siblings to let him spend time with his girl.

"Oh? Your girl is she Nik?" Bekah teased and Klaus snapped his jaw shut.

"No I-"

"Angels don't really have genders actually" Y/n chirped as she floated back into the room and sat down between them, unaware of the tension.

"You have female anatomy?" Klaus wondered allowed and Rebekah's eyes went wide in disbelief as she spun her head to look at him and his face went red as he realised the words were spoken. Thankfully Y/n was clueless and innocent so hadn't a clue why they seemed to think it was inappropriate.

"I don't know? I have mammary glands? At least I do when on earth...they seem common amongst females..." She mumbled, brows furrowed.

"What do you mean...when you're on earth? Don't you have bre- mammary glands when you're at home in heaven?" Rebekah asked this time and Y/n nodded, a little confused.

"Beauty is different here...my quality is that I'm the embodiment of beauty, or at least that's what I'm told and so beauty is socially constructed and I would adapt to suit the times and place. Here is very different to home, there I look much different. Everyone is quite strange here." She explained, tone soft and the two originals began to realise quite how different things had become since their two worlds stopped colliding.

"Are humans pretty to you?" Bekah asked, unable to resist asking.

"I believe all things hold value and beauty" Y/n nodded vaguely, "Some human coverings are um...different though" she muttered and Klaus smiled.

"You mean clothing?" He asked and she nodded when he gestured to his henley.

"They're very tight" She whispered as though it might offend somebody and Klaus chuckled.

"I think you would have liked when women wore dresses" He smiled and she tilted her head, not really knowing what he meant as she had seen Rebekah in dresses which were tight.

"I'll show you, dear" Bekah told her, knowing the angel wouldn't have picked up on what was said. Y/n smiled and nodded, accepting Bex's hand and being pulled to the dressing room while Klaus sighed and whined that he was being left out again.

But it didn't really matter because at the end of the day she would be curled up to his chest, in his arms, in his bed whilst wearing his shirt. She was already his whether she knew it or not.

Sometimes whilst she slept he was trace the soft features of her face, wishing to feel her lips on his, to have her promise that she would always be his.

Klaus Mikaelson wanted to marry and angel.

It was both utterly unbelievable and completely understandable at the same time. Some were baffled by the idea whilst others prayed that he would and that it may finally settle piece over the factions.

He almost managed to ask her but her father got to earth just before he was able to.

The doors had flown off their hinges and everyone was flung from the centre of the room from the sheer force that Y/n's fathers wings emitted. It was clear from the pure power that bounced from the walls that he was highly ranked, a throne angel most likely.

Y/n flung herself into his chest and apologised relentlessly as he wrapped his arms and wings around her. "It's alright darling, we'll be home in no time and no harm will be able to come to you" He promised, but she shook her head.

"I wish to stay" She whispered and her fathers brows furrowed.

"It wasn't a request my sweet. You're coming home. Earth is not for us, not now and not ever again. You're very lucky you haven’t been hurt. People can be cruel. Has anyone seen your wings?" He was checking her arms and wings while he spoke.

"No-" She whined and brushed him off making his expression stern. His eyes blackened when Klaus appeared behind Y/n, trying to pull her to him but a barrier around her repelled his touch.

"Be gone devil-spawn" The man warned and Klaus growled while Y/n frowned.

"He's not a demon Dad. He's a hybrid and a very nice one." She defended and her father scoffed.

"Darling, he's manipulating you. He belongs to Lucifers magic. Not ours. He's a walking sin. You need to be home and cleaned." He stated, no room for questioning.

"No!" She cried, flapping her wings to escape his grip. "He's good!" She whimpered as she managed to get a hold of Klaus. He held her tight, unwilling to let go. Y/n's father underestimated his daughters power as she put her own force field bubble around her and Klaus, ensuring that they couldn't be separated.

The male angel went silent for a moment, gaze narrowing and realisation dawning.

"How could you?" He whispered, "You've found a mate in a vampire? A spawn of evil?" He questioned but he knew the answer and deep down Y/n had too. Rebekah watched in utter shock at the understanding of what had really happened.

"I love him" She whispered and Klaus felt his entire body melt to hers. He nuzzled into her neck, ignoring the words her father threw until Elijah was finally able to make some sort of deal.

Y/n wasn't allowed to have any sort of physical touch with and supernaturals whilst her father was in the room. She must sleep in her own bed. To start off she may only visit Earth once a month which did not last long. Heavens hierarchy made an exception for Y/n to go once a week because of her 'mate' situation. If an angel couldn't be with their mate then they would often fade away into an emptiness. Therefore on Saturdays her father would take her over and attempt to 'get to know' the originals before letting her stay on Sundays by herself so that she may have fun with Bex, Jackson and Elijah and snuggle with Niklaus.

It was strange really.

Klaus wouldn't have ever imagined himself to be the desperate one in a relationship but he was always wanting her. Always touching her and trying to kiss any part of skin he could before she would tell him that he was getting carried away and that they couldn't act upon lust.

It took far too long to get her father to speak with Klaus civilly. The angel knew that his little girl would marry the creature before him. Their souls would be bound and he would have to do everything in his power to make sure that the darkness that tainted Klaus's soul didn't damn his child's too. His daughter would not go to the Devils den just because of a bond. He would rather form a case to get Klaus into heaven than let his sweet girl go down to hell.

Klaus had to damn near beg to marry Y/n. But it was proven worth it when he was finally able to present her with a hand crafted ring. He knew that Y/n would not want a diamond, it promoted greed, envy and pride. The ring he had made was much more meaningful and spelled to keep her safe.

Sweet Y/n had been bouncing up and down, flying round the garden, tackling him to the ground and attacking him with softly little pecks to his neck and cheeks as she squealed and asked how her father ever agreed.

The ceremony was ridiculous.

Klaus had completely underestimated the amount of angels that would come in support and fascination.

Everyone, including Y/n's father was respectful and accepting of their souls entwining and applauded in celebration of their love.

That evening, after dancing for endless hours and conversing with mystical beings, Klaus finally got to lay his angel down and claim her.

His fingers unlaced her dress slowly, savouring the sight as the fabric slipped away from her skin. He gently guided her hair over her shoulder so he could see her bare back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, between her wings, before his lips followed suit, placing a series of kisses. Goosebumps arose against her skin making him smile and tentatively ran his tongue over them, revelling in the way she shivered and the gasp that she produced.

"I love you Y/n" He murmured softly as his hands encouraged her dress completely away from her figure so that he could slide his palms up her navel, moving round her so that he may cup her firm rounded breasts. A little moan left her as well as a slight sound of confusion. "It's alright darling" He whispered whilst kissing the back of her neck, "Does it feel good?" he questioned despite knowing the answer as he stroked the pads if her thumbs over her nipples.

"It does" She whimpered. With a shaky breath she turned over her shoulder to look at him as he caressed her. A smile adorned his face and a loving kiss was placed on her lips. Her eyes fell shut and she let him guide her. She was lifted and turned before delicately placed on her back before their lips detached.

Klaus's eyes lowered to the beautiful, white lace panties that hid her gorgeous core and matched her relaxed wings. His tongue darted to wet his lips when he took in the detail of the pretty frilly garter wrapped around her thigh. He looked back up to her eyes, tilting his head when he saw the nerves spread across her perfect face.

"I wasn't sure of the traditions anymore" She whispered, glancing down at herself, "Is it not right?" she questioned, her hand moving to pull the garter off but Klaus quickly took her hand in his.

"It's lovely, everything you do is without fault" He promised whilst leaning down to kiss her knee softly. "And this..." He gestured to the garter, "Is for me to take off sweetheart".

Y/n's breath got caught in her throat when his teeth captured the fabric and dragged it down her leg and away form her body entirely. He placed it on his bedside table before licking and nipping up her inner thighs, interchanging between left and right as he went. Her hands were unsure as they rested on her stomach awkwardly making Klaus smile to himself and guide her to hold onto his hair.

"You can do anything you want my love" He murmured, chuckling softly when she played with his curls.

Gentle petting changed to a pattern of tugs as his tongue pressed to her panties. The heat against her sensitive folds made her body arch and shudder before a sharp gasp left her when Klaus bit the fabric and tugged them off so his lips could press hot kisses to her glistening core. His tongue slide through her folds, tasting her addictive essence. She truly was sent from above.

A throaty groan left Klaus's throat as he encased her clit between his lips and sucked ever so gently. His hair was gripped tightly and her overwhelmed whimpers filled his senses.

"Klaus-" She whined, her body completely new to the sensations. Her wings stretched out across the bed and her legs were guided to do the same as the hybrid's mouth got to work.

His arms wrapped under her thighs, holding her hips up so his access was favourable. He licked, lapped, sucked and fucked her with his talented tongue until his face was face was dripping and tears of delight were stained down her cheeks.

Klaus panted as he wiped his mouth and chin sloppily; he lifted his head and pushed himself up into a kneeling position. His pupils dilated at the sight of his bride.

Her wings shifted to cover herself making the hybrid let out a breathy laugh as the feathers blocked his view. Her luscious hair stuck to her glowing skin as she tiredly pushed herself up and crawled toward him. Klaus smiled and wrapped his arms round her waist, under her wings and pulled her onto his lap.

Her face pressed to his chest only for her to pull away and look up at him "You're still in your suit" She whispered, her voice slightly rasped.

"You're tired." He murmured softly, smiling to her as he cupped her face and kissed her forehead sweetly. "We can continue in the morning my love"

"No..." She whined, guilt filling her. "You've been waiting for this night" She whispered, her hand rubbing his arm in a comforting gesture. Klaus wasn't sure where this restraint was coming from, in his head he would have fucked her in ten different positions by now but looking at her delicate face, her soft ethereal body and those loving, understanding eyes, he knew he would wait for the entirety of eternity for her if he had to.

"I don't want to hurt you" He uttered, stroking her face with his knuckles tentatively. "Rest" He urged but her head shook and her fingers plucked at his buttons so that she may feel the firmness of his chest beneath it and despite having restraint, he wouldn't go as far as physically stopping her.

Her touch was light against his skin as his shirt was slid down his arms and her face pressed to his abdomen, basking in his natural warmth. Her hands were nervous as they slowly undid his trousers, sweet girl didn't even know what she was looking at when he helped her remove the rest of his undergarments. Klaus knew she had no clue and couldn't help the smile on his face at her struggle.

"Don't panic darling" He encouraged. Gently he caressed her hands, slowly guiding them to his erect cock and telling her she could stop whenever she wanted to. Her hand wrapped round his thickness and he whispered weakly to her. "Thank you sweetheart" He muttered, "just gently stroke and I'll make an even bigger mess than you did" He teased breathlessly making her blush and follow his directions. Her grip slid up and down his length, her eyes lighting up when his moans and groans filled the room and built her confidence. "Good girl" He praised, his eyes drooping but he smiled when he heard her moan gently at his words. "Good girl" He repeated, a rougher edge to his voice as her hands stroked his faster and firmer.

"I want to do more" She whispered, tone bordering desperate "how do I do more?"

Klaus laughed softly before answering, "Can you use your pretty lips on me my love? No teeth, just tongue like I did" He murmured, squeezing his eyes shut when the heat of her mouth engulfed him. "Fuck, yes!" He gasped and her eyes went big.

"You mustn’t say that" She whispered and he nodded, apologising quietly while petting her head, hoping she wouldn't stop because of it. Slowly her head went back down and his went back.

His muscles tensed and relaxed as he stroked her head gently before sliding his hands across to her wings that would flex every now and then.

Her tongue was wrapped completely around his cock, sliding across his veins while her head moved up and down surprisingly enthusiastically. Klaus had never thought she would be an overly sexual creature given her being so pure for so long but in that moment he knew that they wouldn't be going a day without him being inside her.

She sucked him off beautifully, so wonderfully well that he almost had to second guess her innocence.

His fingers buried into her feathers, careful not to pull too harshly on them while his hips bucked up involuntarily. A muffled gag and strained moan left her and she looked up at him through her lashes. Klaus couldn't stop himself as he looked into her rounded eyes, his body stiffened and his lips parted as he came against the back of her mouth. Y/n made a sound of surprise and he quickly got his hands under her chin and pulled her away.

"Fuck, love I'm sorry" He whispered, gently cupping her face and grabbing the nearest blanket to wipe away the cum that painted her face. He cupped her cheek and kissed her lips. "I meant to pull out before..." He mumbled, annoyed with himself as he listened to her cough.

Once her breathing levelled she was able to look back up at him properly, he was worried for what she would say but she only smacked his arm lightly and shook her head. "Stop saying bad words!" she told him and he sighed, pulling her close and kissing her head repeatedly.

"I love you Y/n" He chuckled and she beamed back at him.

"I love you too" she smiled, squeezing his hand. Her wings stretched out before wrapping around them both, encasing their warmth and holding them together. Klaus gently rubbed his hand down her body, paying attention to her shape and gently caressing her waist up to her breasts. He squeezed them gently, leaning down to press his forehead to hers.

Her head tilted back and their lips pressed together while she relished in his touch. His hands glided down her hips and under her thighs, carefully lifting her up and lowering her down onto his lap. The head of his cock teased her entrance, slipping along her wetness. "I've got you darling" He whispered, guiding himself inside her.

Y/n whimpered softly and clenched her hands into fists causing her nails to dig into her palms. He gently gripped her hips firmly, guiding her to ride his cock whilst he thrust up to meet her body with a soft slap of their skin.

Her face pressed into his neck and her hot breath made his skin wet as she panted heavily. "Nik" She whispered and he groaned, his hips bucking abruptly faster.

"Talk to me darling" He murmured to her, stroking her skin soothingly. "Tell me what you need"

Y/n shuddered in his lap and clung onto him tightly, "I don't know" she whined, "just more"

Klaus smiled and chuckled. He kissed the top of her head before thrusting into her harder "Harder?" He offered with a smirk when she gasped, "Maybe deeper" The hybrid mumbled as he buried his cock into her so that it rubbed her cervix, "Or maybe you need it faster, hm?"

Y/n nodded and squeezed her knees against his hips. He spun her round quickly to press her winged back against the headboard so that he could thrust into her rougher. Klaus could feel his grip on her bruising her skin. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he felt her warm walls squeeze him beautifully.

Their bodies moved together in a heated passion, both heavily panting.

Klaus dropped his hand down to slide his fingers over her clit. Y/n's head went back, her wings tensing and her mouth opening in a silent scream as he grunted and pounded into her as deep as physically possible. Little veins scattered under his eyes and he quickly shook them away and kissed from her jaw to her lips, absorbing her moans and swallowing them for himself.

He pulled away with a groan as he felt her body tightening significantly around him and her nails impaling his arms. Her wings flexed out and for a moment he worried they would start to flap but they fell back down as her body arched further.

"Oh sweetheart" Klaus muttered, rubbing her clit vigorously and bucking his hips quickly. "Come on darling...cum for me" He whispered, nipping her neck and licking the smooth skin to sate something inside himself.

Y/n's eyes rolled back and a heavenly sound left her as she felt her orgasm shatter through her. Her head lulled forward to lean against him and her eyes closed as his warmth spread through her. Two large wings held them together as their bodies pressed together without anymore movement.

"I love you my darling" He whispered earnestly, wrapping his arms round her waist and resting his head against hers. She smiled in his hold and sighed softly.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you...in life and death" She uttered and he grinned.

"I'm going to worship you every night and day whether we're on earth or in the heavens or even if we ever went to-"

"Don't say it" She whined and he chuckled softly

"Forgive me, my love, it seems that I've said a few too many bad words this evening. I'll have to make it up to you" He purred and she giggled.

"You can make it up tomorrow" She murmured with a yawn and he hummed whilst gently lifting her up and carefully pulling out of her. Her skin shone with a thin layer sweat and she shifted as he laid her down amongst the sheets.

"I'm going to clean you a little in a moment but in the morning we'll bathe and ill help you with those gorgeous wings of yours" He promised with a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you" She whispered, gazing at him with nothing but love.

As he wiped her skin clear, she thanked any and all versions of power for having her fall into the bayou that day, she thanked her father and the angels for allowing her marriage and she thanked the Mikaelsons for being the best family she could have wound up in.

[httpsserene]

kinktober '23 table of contents

welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23

view playlist? ↴

upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

© httpsserene 2023

[the-modern-typewriter]

Your vampires are amazing. Would you write something about vampires for halloween?

"Oh, dear." The vampire studied the vampire hunter with a fierce and searing hunger in their gaze. "That's an awful lot of blood."

The vampire hunter managed a rasping, panicked breath. Their eyes went wide. They struggled to shift, to reach for a weapon.

The vampire smiled.

Lightning quick, the vampire crouched and straddled the hunter, pinning them down against the dirt. They placed a firm hand on the hunter's stomach, applying pressure to the wound. "Ah, ah, ah."

The hunter gasped in pain. They scrabbled at the vampire's hand, but the blood loss had already left them weak.

The vampire inhaled deeply, the smile on their lips only growing. With their free hand, they brushed the hunter's clammy hair back from their face. "How many people have you killed to ensure your own survival, do you think?"

"None."

"Oh?"

The hunter clenched their jaw. "Vampires aren't people."

The vampire chuckled. Their grip on the hunter's hair tightened, yanking back, forcing the hunter's back to arch with another groan of pain, and their throat to bare. "You'd make a good vampire."

The hunter shook their head, or tried to. Tears leaked down their cheek.

"No, really," the vampire said. "Your first instinct was to try to slaughter me, even now, at the very end of you. What a murderous little thing you are! I can appreciate that. None of the other hunters around these parts will come near me."

"Just finish it!"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" The vampire leaned down, to ghost their lips against the hunter's neck. "How about this. You can die when you can best me in combat."

The hunter went perfectly still at the teasing prick of sharp fangs. "W-what?" It would have been inaudible to a human.

"You can die when you can best me in combat. Until then, I'm going to keep bringing you back, mortally wounding you, and bringing you back again and again and again."

Vampire venom was curative. It kept their prey alive, their blood fresh and drinkable, for longer.

The hunter's heart raced.

The vampire bit.

The hunter's eyes fluttered, their body jerked, before the venom seeped in. Heat and life and desire and hunger. Intoxicatingly good. The lure of immortality, without the curse of a devil's bargain sealed.

The hunter moaned.

The vampire hummed, pleased.

The hunter struggled then, with greater strength as the wound on their stomach began to knit closed beneath the vampire's hands.

When the vampire pulled back, still straddling the hunter, it was to let go of the hunter's hair and capture their wrists instead. It was to release the pressure on the hunter's stomach, and bring a hand cat-like up to their lips to lick the hunter's blood clean away.

The hunter stared at them in horrified, mesmerised disbelief. Still reeling.

A vampire never looked so good as when they had just fed.

"You're delicious," the vampire murmured, with soft satisfaction. "I knew you would be."

"This is - why would you - I - we -"

"You thought I'd turn you?" The vampire's grin was wicked. "Just to torture you with being what you hate most?"

The hunter shivered.

The vampire laughed again. "No, no. I'll only turn you when you want it, when you beg for it."

"You're insane."

"I'm immortal." The vampire rose to their feet. "I'm ancient." They offered the hunter a hand to help them up. "And I'm bored. Have at, killer."

The hunter reached for the vampire's hand, feinted, lunged.

An instant later, they were on the forest floor again.

"Oh, dear," the vampire said. "That's an awful lot of blood." There was a pause, then, "best of three?"