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phyrestartr · 3 months

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Vampire | Miguel x M!Reader

Vampire!Miguel x Reader W/C: 5.9k

#NSFW, vampires, blood, gore, violence, bottom!reader, top!Miguel, mentions of sex work, mentions of assault, it's kinda cute idk, posessive behaviour, questionable relationship, reader is morally grey, reader is lowkey a criminal though lol, Johnny Blaze = Nic Cage 5ever sorry not sorry

Note: I FINISHED IT! Lost steam with editing so some bits may be kinda weird and word-y, but I really enjoyed writing this honestly :clap: ty guys for voting for me to finish this o(--( I actually finished it so quickly wtf--

Vampires. Blood-sucking, man-killing, devil-calling creatures. Many feared them, even now, even after the legends of Dracula faded into obscurity and out of the minds of mortal men. But there were some who kept weary watch on the old castle looming before your meager town: older folks, the ones with bleached scars and haunted voices, with quivering hands and a phobia of the dark.

You thought they all spun tales, convinced themselves of a time that never happened thanks to whatever their parents hushedly told them come the waning of the sun. “Don't leave the house after dark,” “be wary of the man you know not,” “pray to God for his protection,” is what you figured they'd been told. You couldn't blame them. Not really. Mass hysteria, mass lies told to the young had a penchant for warping their minds, destroying their futures.

But still, you'd listen. Face alight with a smile, one ear turned their way as you poured drinks for whatever patron came bumbling your way that night. There was one man, one who claimed to have been touched by the devil himself, momentarily transformed into something wicked and unholy, who frequented the establishment.

“Come on now, Johnny,” you chided with a laugh, “you don't really believe all that rubbish. Touched by the devil? You Americans really are the dramatic sort, aren't you?”

“You don't need to believe all of it,” Johnny said mildly. “You just need to believe a sliver of it. It'll do you some good. Keep you safe.”

You smiled to yourself as you busily made a drink for a new customer. “Yeah? Keep me safe from what, exactly?” Your eyes met his, then, and you found your blood stood in place for a moment.

“You know what.” The devil. He'd said it too many times to count without uttering his name. “Just be smart.”

“I'm always smart,” you said with a phony laugh, the sort you used to lull women and men into some cheap sense of comfort.

“Smart people do dumb things, too.” He took a swig of his drink before peering down at the amber pooling against crystal. “Like sneaking around old, unhallowed castles.”

You pursed your lips. “I'm just curious, old man, you don't need to worry. I've not been inside, yeah? Just looked ‘round the outside of the old place.” That's probably filled with loads of goods.

But Johnny only stared at you, calculating, thinking. It almost unnerved you.

“Just be careful.”

And in that moment, a man whose name you didn’t know, but whose body you knew too well, walked into the bar. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall, and from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden away under the brim of that hat, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones. His eyes, a bizarre colour, always glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of, and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadow rolling off his strong neck.

He didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t look away. Your gaze followed him to where he found a quiet seat off to the side by a small table. He wouldn’t order anything. He never did. He only ever waited for your shift to end.

“Kid?” Johnny prodded, freeing you from your momentary curse.

You blinked and sputtered, nodding in earnest to whatever Johnny had said. “I–right. Careful. I’m always careful.”

–

Just be careful.

But that was impossible with this otherworldly spirit around you, waiting for you every other night just for the sake of bedding you, and leaving before morning with nothing but a stack of bills (or sometimes some jewelry, if you were lucky) to remember him by. Your favourite client by far. Your only client, per his request.

Your fists twisted into the bedsheets as you gasped with every brutal crashing of the man’s hips against yours as he took you from behind. He was in a bad mood tonight, it seemed. Normally, he liked to take it slow, he liked to savour his meal, but for some reason–

His hand clasped over your mouth when his teeth tore into your neck again. The cry that left you was hoarse and tired, but not so surprised, no; the man had his kinks, and one just so happened to be biting. He did quite the number on you, too, always breaking skin and leaving scars and scabs in his wake. But it felt good. It felt right to be claimed. The greedy, ugly little part of your heart wanted people to know you were taken and owned by this strange, captivating man.

“Fuck, I–” You buried your face into the mattress as another orgasm hit, striking your dull nerves like hammer on hot iron thrust after thrust. Soon enough, you felt his body stutter against yours just before an uncanny, liquid gold filled your guts and seeped into your core–he was finally done. Finally. Though part of you wished it didn’t have to end.

His teeth, the pointed, feral things, dislodged from your neck before he ran the flat of his tongue against the weeping wound. Somehow, that always staunched the bleeding. You didn’t quite understand it, but you weren’t exactly well-versed in medicine.

“Tired already?” He mocked in that smokey, American accent. “Thought the young had more than that to offer.” The purr of his voice soothed the pulsing start of a headache as you came down from your high. Yet another strange effect he had on you.

You took a good handful of moments to catch your breath before you tried to hazard an answer. “I’m–you’re in some kind of mood, darling; can’t blame me for your brutality.” You turned your head to rest your cheek against the scratchy sheets, and the beast took the opportunity to leave nips and kisses along your jaw.

“Tch. I’m just reminding you who you belong to. Where you belong.” Sharp teeth grazed your skin again, and you shuddered. “No one likes to see theirs fawning over another man.”

You strained to look back at him. “You–you mean Johnny? He’s not–I wouldn’t let him bed me, are you mad?” A rough push of his hips against yours reprimanded you. “H-He’s a mate, love, that’s all.”

The man twitched. “A mate?”

“A friend, you bloody idiot.”

He relaxed, but still sought confirmation. “A friend.”

“A friend, indeed. Father-figure, maybe.” With a bit of effort, you managed to wriggle free from the strength of the man pinning you in place, and laid on your back to gaze up at him. “I’m not interested in him, he’s not interested in men, so you needn’t worry a thing.” One of your worn hands reached up and smoothed over the curve of his sharp cheekbone, drawing a pleased hum from the chamber of the beast’s chest.

“Fine.” He rested his weight on you, and you sighed, content and warmed. But that bony chin digging into your chest was a tad bit fucking irritating. “Then if he’s not trying to fuck you, what makes you listen to him for hours on end, hm?” Hah. Annoyed. Jealous. Quite endearing.

“He has stories to tell,” you offered. “Words about the devil and the curse of the undead. About Dracula and that old castle.”

The man’s brows raised in interest. “Oh? And you like ghost stories, is that it? Here I figured I'd be enough to keep your mind entertained,” he said with a taunting smirk, like he thought your suggested belief in those spooky tales was laughable.

Heat washed over your face. “I–you–shut up, I just like me a good story, is that so wrong? Tch, stupid American.”

He laughed, a sound you adored to hell and back. “I’ll keep it in mind. Might have a few good stories up my sleeve, too.” His head tilted the slightest bit. “Maybe then your eyes won’t wander.”

“Terribly jealous one, aren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it.” You raked your hands through his hair and he sighed, deep and ancient. But your words were true–this man, your mysterious client-turned-lover, he captivated all wherever he traveled. With so many eyes on him, why did he want you to look nowhere else but to him?

Greedy man. That’s what you decided. He wanted everything and more.

“Other men don't get to look at what's mine,” he mumbled after a time of you pampering him with pets and scritches. “And you're mine, for the record.”

“Hm. I quite like the sound of that.”

“Then marry me.”

“I'm not sure I can,” you lamented. “I find myself in trouble too often. It puts me on the run, jumping from town to city and back again.”

“You'd never have to run again if you let me have you.” He picked himself up and loomed over you, brushing his nose against yours as he spoke against your lips. “You'd be safe, cared for, never want for anything. None of those sacks of shit would would lay a finger on you again.” His lips trailed down, brushing against the thick vein in your neck. “I think it's for the best if you agree.”

You almost argued back, but the large hand engulfing your throat gave you pause. He didn't hurt you, no, but gave you a silent warning. The power that man held over you contradicted his weakness to your wants and desires, and twisted your thoughts into unorganized knots.

“I'll think on it,” you breathed, not wanting to say yes but unwilling to say no. You didn't want marriage, but commitment was a tantalizing idea. You'd just never thought it'd happen to you.

His eyes came back to yours again. Your heart fluttered at the glints of carmine shimmering in candle-lit eyes. God, he was beautiful.

“I better like your answer.”

–

You left. You hated doing it, you hated running from your problems and whatever seemed to haunt you day to day, but too much happened in too short a time.

For one, the landlord demanded more and more rent money from you when he noticed your gifted jewelry and newly tailored coat, and then, when you didn't give it to him, he took to trying to get payment another way. You shot him, obviously.

Which led to your second reason for leaving–you'd shot a man and fled the scene, unknowing if he was alive or not, and uncaring of the outcome, quite frankly. You figured the lowlife would be more pressed about the money than dying, anyway.

And third, the bar you worked at found out you'd been swindling and stealing on the job, pocketing tips and taking home near-empty bottles to refill with something of your own design to sell on the streets. Admittedly, it was fine work, but you'd long abandoned that method of money-making once that stranger wandered into your life and offered you more cash than you could imagine.

But you liked that bar. You liked those patrons. No strings attached.

And that's why you were back. Not with the intention to stay, no; you were back to scout out the castle after getting confirmation from some university lads about how valuable the old place was. You figured you could find enough in there with the scoundrels you'd come with, and maybe you could pay the old owner back before leaving for good.

You'd never have to run again if you'd let me have you.

Maybe you should've just said yes.

–

The castle stood beautifully, even with the screams of the slaughtered ringing through the halls. It was big, too, eagerly letting you get lost in its enchanting halls and inviting rooms as you tried in vain to remember the way out.

That's when you crashed into one of the uni snobs you'd come with, Harry. He was a mess, clothes and hair out of place for once, with a spray of sticky blood coating his face and white shirt. Osborn must've seen their tormentor.

He grabbed your shoulders as you grabbed his arms. “We have to go, we have to go–” he chanted, pulling and pushing you in undecided directions.

“Osborn, where did you see it? Where–” Another scream gave you a hint. Your eyes snapped down the hallway, staring deep into the torchlit halls and finding nothing but the unknown staring back.

Then, there were footsteps. Slow, methodical things that rung to a tune hidden in your memories.

“We have to go,” you whispered, like that'd help. “Osborn, we have to–” a splitting pain electrocuted your senses and sent you stumbling backwards. The world spun. Your head ached. Funeral bells shrieked. Worst of all, that dress shirt and that fancy jacket you loved so much were stained suddenly, a foul colour of darkness that reeked of pennies and iron. It took you too long to look back to the student, and to see the smoking pistol held out in his shaky hand.

“I had to,” Osborn whispered, so, so haunted. “I had to. You understand.” And quite frankly, you did understand; wounding a lamb to leave behind for a wolf to indulge in was a sure way to let a farmer escape.

Harry took off. You grasped your stomach and leaned hard against the wall, trying to pull yourself together to make some kind of run for it before those languid steps found you and cut your story short. But you felt so tired, so dizzy. The red weeping under your hand and the bewildered pants leaving you left you colder and colder. You wondered if Osborn had shot himself in the foot with this one (hah), killing the sacrificial lamb, rendering it useless to what was believed to be a vampire of all things. They devoured the living, not the dead.

Clack, clack, clack. The haunting echo of fine shoes on wooden slats passed you by, then vanished all together. You collapsed to your knees and heaved in the burning air just as a deafening screech ricocheted through the halls with the echo of frantic gunfire, and the slosh of viscera. You fought back the burn of bile in your throat when you braved a look; there laid a body on the floor, and a corpse standing above it, illuminated just barely by torchlight.

His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall–

“We could have avoided all of this,” the creature growled.

–from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden in the swath of darkness around him, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones–

“But you didn’t listen.”

–his eyes, a bizarre colour, glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of–

“Why couldn’t you just listen?”

–and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadows rolling off his strong neck.

He appeared beside you so suddenly, so soundlessly, you wouldn’t have known he approached if it weren’t for the strength of your fluttering eyelids seeking the truth. You stared hard at the tips of his leather shoes. Perhaps you should’ve known it was him all along. Perhaps you had known.

He knelt before you and forced your chin up, making your eyes meet his as he stared down through you. Blood marred his face, matching the wine-red hue of his furious, gem-cut eyes; even like this, teeth bared, about to kill you, he was beautiful.

“Look what you’ve done. This is your fault–”

But that beauty was wasted on such a foul-mouthed monster.

“My fault?” You spat. “Fuck you.” You tore your chin from his grip, but his hand sought out your throat instead. “Don’t fucking touch me–”

He smiled, bitter but so wholly and infuriatingly amused before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.” And before you could lash out, before you could throw a fist at his stupid face, he yanked you in and bit.

A winter breeze rippled through you. Cold. Piercing. And you gradually froze like water dripping from the gutters, no longer able to fight back, too sluggishly slow to do anything about your fate. You breathed hard, feeling the hole in your stomach and ache of your heart weep and worsen with every shattering breath you took. Your hands, gentle in their weakness, pawed at his chest and sought a spot to dig in and hold on to for dear life as the waking world turned its back to you.

But despite the bitterness, and despite words exchanged, he held the side of your face as you faded in and out of consciousness. He called something, and a flurry of orange wisps appeared above you.

–

You awoke to the echoes of a dream, one you hadn’t had for a while. A cloudless night where you’d been caught in bed by a taken woman’s man and beaten half to death; in return, you shredded through the man's chest with a knife from the kitchen while the wife watched on in silence. You'd been ready to kill her, too, slit her throat in one easy motion, but she never screamed, never looked at the wild animal with fear.

Tell the police he attacked you, miss.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

You fumbled through the alleys after leaving the scene, but others, foul things that roamed the streets where not even rats lingered, found you, threatened to use up the last of what you had to offer this pitiful world. It seemed as though they disappeared in the time it took you to blink, though, and a man was left, standing in their wake. He looked somewhat disheveled, like he’d just finished some grand task, but he was just so put together, too. You struggled to make sense of it, but you didn’t really care to.

“Well, isn't that impressive,” you said with a breathless laugh. “Not a shred of blood on you. Are you the ripper the paper’s gone on and on about?”

The being glanced over his shoulder, eyes alight in curious mirth. He turned your way and stepped closer. You saw it then, the slightest bit of dark smears on his face.

“Is that what they're calling me?” He adjusted his cuffs, and rolled his shoulders. “Huh.”

Adrenaline poured into your heart. “You're quite the dangerous man, aren't you, sir?” you swallowed thickly as you looked him over: fine shoes, expensive coat, luxurious rings. “And, ah, well-off. You wouldn't happen to be interested in spreading the wealth, hm?”

His hand cupped your jaw, sticky with freezing blood, and he leaned in. The pungent scent of iron curled your gut as he breathed you in, making up his mind with what to do with you. Then, with the dry, warm back of his gloved hand, he caressed the side of your face and watched your eyelids flutter, devouring the simple gesture.

“Let's see if you can convince me to.”

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

Curiosity willed your eyes open, and you gazed down at the hollow tube connecting you to the walking corpse. You fought to ease the jump of your heart, but it became impossible when a dark red raced from the vampire's arm down into yours.

“Is that going to make me like you?” You whispered, nerves twitching and burning with the bite of restless fire ants.

Crimson eyes found yours and looked deep. “It won't. You can relax.” But you weren't convinced, and your lover could tell. “You'd have to drink my blood.”

“Why're you giving me your blood, then?”

“You'll die without it.” He pumped something, you now noticed, and realized it was what drew the blood from his veins and drained it into yours.

Curious. “Were you a man of medicine?”

He scoffed. “Still am.” He threw you a wary look, one brow raised. “How many more questions are you–”

“Your name?” That was something you'd requested before, but always through a veil of uncertainty. You didn't like to ask much of him. He didn't ask much of you. But you didn't know him, yet he knew you.

Your vampire frowned, unapproving. “What difference will it make?”

“You asked me to fucking marry you,” you bit out. “And yet you keep so many secrets from me, still. I've given you more than I have, and you can't even–”

“Miguel.” You both paused–him to gauge your reaction, and you out of shock. “Miguel O'hara.”

The cracks in your chest mended, just slightly. Miguel O'hara. What a name that was. Formidable and wholly suiting the beast of a man you'd known and craved for far too many years.

“Miguel O'hara,” you whispered, staring tiredly at the red thread connecting the two of you. The name felt good on your tongue.

Nothing more was said, then. He must've still felt the tension in the air, or maybe the coil of apprehension in your body, for he worked on in silence, quietly saving your life for no reason.

It was when he pulled free the needle that you found the will to break the silence on your own.

“Why didn't you tell me?” It came out a pathetic whisper, sounding as broken as your mind felt.

He paused before pulling the needle from his own arm. “Tell you what?”

It was a good question. You didn't know what to ask him to elaborate on. You didn't know if you wanted him to elaborate on anything, actually, because it'd make it too real, too tangible.

“Everything.” And when he stayed silent, you narrowed it down to just, “all of…you.”

Miguel licked his thumb and stroked it soothingly against the pinprick of a wound while his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into something of a frown. “How could I?” You both watched the tiny dot of red cease weeping. “If you'd moved on and you knew, it could put everything at risk.”

If I'd moved on. It felt wrong. It felt uncomfortable to know he felt that somewhere between his ribs and his heart. And for how long? How long had he not trusted you? Did he even trust you in that moment, knowing what and who he truly was? Or were you now doomed to this castle just as he was?

“I'll let you rest,” Miguel said as he clasped his medical case shut and stood. “Lyla'll bring you food.”

Thump, thump, thump, echoed his footsteps, those fine shoes muffled by old carpet; but the sharp clack, clack, clack in the hollow echoes of your memories, just before the truth revealed itself to you, swallowed up your thoughts.

“(Name),” Miguel said, and your eyes opened to find the tall, proud back of his silhouette stood at the door, one hand clutching the knob. “Don’t leave this room.”

And he left you there, heart aching, mind melting, soul shattering.

–

Solitude reminded you of what else happened. The lads you'd come here with, nothing more than acquaintances, were missing, or perhaps dead. It ate at your mind. Could you have done something different? Could you have convinced him to let them go?

More importantly, would Miguel let you leave? He claimed he wanted to marry you, but words were just words if not put to use with actions. Staying by his side would mean stomaching the fact he'd consume countless other people, wouldn't it? How were you expected to watch your partner(?), your groom-to-be(?), hold and pierce others the way he promised to you and only you?

But could you let him stay here alone, hunted and hated by believers, laughed at by the average skeptic? If you were not here, how many more would walk in on a dare, and meet a terrible end? They didn’t matter, no, but the legend of a vampire would turn more and more true, summoning devil-hunters to his doorstep, stake and flames in-hand.

The thoughts plagued you, filling your head with the terrible buzzing of bees. You couldn't fathom why you cared so much; most of your life you'd lived for your own sake, doing what needed to be done to get by, to have a better tomorrow. You hated other people. A few of them you'd personally buried six feet under, whether they were dead or lived still, and you never batted an eye. You had no patience for those who'd oppose you.

You would have killed Osborn yourself if O’hara hadn't. And that was the truth. That'd been the truth the whole time, ever since you saw just how expensively he and the others lived; gold dripped from their tongues, silver ran through their veins, diamonds fell from their eyes. You wanted to claim a bit of that for yourself.

And Miguel had shared his wealth with you, just in exchange for a bit of blood and your body for the night. Surely you could look past what he did to survive, even if it put your heart into a spiral.

Lost in thought, you found your way to his chambers, freely disobeying his orders

He lounged in a clawfoot bath. Stuffy heat lulled you into a daze, something like a carefree summer evening wherein the sun took too long to vanish. Though when he noticed you approach, shedding clothes the entire way, the heat grew near unbearable.

Miguel's claws creaked against the enamel in anticipation when you stepped into the water. You watched him with the same delicate intrigue as prey investigating something that could be a threat as you found your place between his spread legs, getting close enough to feel the pounding of his undead heart. You'd only seen his body in dim candlelight or withering rays of the moon, never truly illuminated by the glow of floating chandeliers nor the collection of sconces arching from the wall.

Slowly, your fingertips dragged along muscle, warm and firm under your calloused touch. The scars littering your hands and knuckles shone so stark against his perfect complexion. He really did seem too perfect. It would have sparked jealousy in your gut if he didn't apparently belong to you, and you to him. No one else got to touch. No one else got to see.

Now, you were built finely yourself, but the man before you was something entirely different. You didn't know if it was thanks to his supernatural existence, but his body was built in a near-animalistic way that screamed power and speed, not similar enough to a human. Though, looking back, you did always think his manners in bed were more beast than man. The growling, the clawing, the marks of claim on the nape of your neck, it all clicked and made sense in the whirlwind of your mind.

“I think a werewolf would suit you better,” you admitted. “What with the claws and biting and general uncouth behaviour.”

Miguel huffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” His voice rang low and quiet, too aware he might scare off his prized hare if he put too much into his words. “You're the one acting like a rabid animal.”

“No, you.”

“Don't think so.”

“You're difficult.”

“You're one to talk.”

“How long have you been like this?” Your fingers combed through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut. “A vampire. Or whatever you are.”

“Lost track,” he said, sounding too honest. “I have records. Notes. From experiments. The dates on those are close to when it happened.” Experiments? Colour you intrigued.

“So you weren't exactly practicing white medicine?” You tilted your head in thought. “You were doing something more–”

“It wasn't black magic,” Miguel scoffed. “It was science. Genetics. Studying how other organisms function, learning about them.” His expression darkened just the slightest bit. “Trying to…recreate them.”

Your head spun a little trying to fill in the blanks. It wasn’t too hard, but it was hard to accept as reality. But if anyone were to unlock the damned secrets of immortality, of course it'd be this man. This cocky, genius, charming man. God really did have favourites, though they always did seem to disappoint him.

“I see. So you're telling me you're a genius who rebirthed vampires,” you summed up, letting your hands melt down his body, below the water's surface. “How is it you only get more and more impressive, Mr.O'hara?”

A smug smirk bloomed across his lips. “It's just in my nature.” His head tilted back with a pleased sigh when your touch finally landed on that annoying thing prodding your thigh. “I have no choice but to succeed.”

“Tch. Americans are so arrogant.” You hummed and leaned in, ghosting kisses along his vulnerable neck while your hand pleased him slowly, teasingly. His talons screeched against the tub again. “But maybe you have reason to be, hm? Given how accomplished you are.”

A dark, scarlet haze like the sky of the blood moon illuminated Miguel's eyes in the few moments they slipped open to catch a glimpse of you. You wondered if he needed a reality check. Maybe he thought he was hallucinating, maybe he thought that you weren't really there despite being pressed up against him and murmuring useless quips into his skin. You'd be sure to leave an impression on him; your hand quickened, gripping tighter and pulling the way he directed you to far too many years ago, but his barbed hand caught your wrist.

“Stop,” he gasped. His chest rose and fell with his light panting as he stared you down. Want radiated off of him like an animal starved. You knew what was rattling around in his mind before he even spoke.

“You want to fuck me, is that it?”

Miguel's breath hitched.

–

You made him ravenous. You were the only thing he wanted to feast on, delicacies and sanguine temptations be damned.

One of his large hands held your waist in a death grip while his other hand held your head down, forcing your incoherent ramblings into the soft, silken sheets as he rammed you from behind like a beast in heat. You took it well, too, not that you hadn't before–he always held back, appeared to you as human when he fucked you previously. But now that you knew the truth, now that you knew what lay hidden in the dark nooks of his bones’ marrow, he felt complete. And that meant he could completely lay claim to you, too.

He matched the curve of your back with his chest when he leaned over you, burying his nose into your neck and shoulder to indulge in your scent. Your vampire's desire to breed slowed and steadied into deep, thoughtful rolls of his hips. Perhaps his mind had caught up with him and ushered him to slow down, to abandon some of that reckless excitement.

Miguel heard the slightest mumble of his name on your lips and leaned down further to touch his own to your cheekbone. One arm looped underneath your throat in a benign chokehold of sorts, while his other hand threaded through your hair–if he wasn't fucking you like an animal before, this makeshift mating lock he had on you sealed the deal.

“You feel good,” Miguel murmured, voice tickling the shell of your ear.

“Hah. I, ah, always feel good,” you tried to quip back, but your expression betrayed the fraying threads of whatever self-control you still desperately clung to. “You’re, uh…unhinged, hey?” Miguel scoffed. “Like a…a wild beast.”

“Oh?” A purr hummed through his chest, piercing your body and rattling through your own lungs in seismic pulses. “A wild beast? Flattering.”

“Really, darling, you don't have to be such a sarcastic asshole when you're–” a hard snap of his hips sent you spiraling for a moment, “--in my ass.”

“Maybe you should watch your mouth,” he suggested.

“Maybe you could watch it for me,” you countered.

The warmth of his laugh sent chills scattering across your skin. He pulled out of you and turned you over, dragging your hips back against him before his powerful body engulfed yours again. Miguel liked this more. He liked the feeling of your hands grabbing and clawing at him, the way your thighs attached to his waist, how you bit your bottom lip while your eyes screwed shut from the overwhelming feeling of your partner destroying you.

And of course, his lips could meet yours like this. The sweet tang of copper and berries, a taste so familiar and so you, was shared between tongues, kept secret in the crevices of teeth. It amazed Miguel how much one little kiss could push him over the edge and make the bed creak and groan with you as he loved on you and made sure to send the message straight to your core.

Your hands fisted in his hair when you came undone. That lovely voice of yours poured into Miguel's eager mouth, and you tightened, pulling him to the edge and pushing him over with the might of a wild stampede. Claws nipped your skin, fangs pierced deeper, yet his rutting hit deepest, and burned you alive with unbearable, liquid heat.

–

“Why me?” You asked into the stillness of the room.

Calm silence answered you for a long moment. The sun bloomed beyond the thick curtains, you noticed in your wait, and you wondered if you would ever miss the sight. England never truly had bright, sunny days from what you recalled; stretches of smokey, grey overcast clouded the skies and your memories more often than not. Could your vampire walk amongst the living like this?

Miguel sighed, leaning into the hand carding through his hair. “Figured you’d understand.”

“I’d understand what?”

“Killing to survive.”

“How long have you known?” You wondered, unsurprised.

“Blood tells stories,” he whispered. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered a moment before crimson eyes peered open the slightest bit. “Your story’s long. Complicated. You’re too young for it.”

A smile twitched onto your face. You adjusted in the bed, getting more comfortable on your side in those pooling, satin sheets. “So you thought I’d be an easy target for sex, then? Desperate and young as I was.”

He found your eyes, his gaze earnest and bleeding. “I–you–fine, at first it was like you said. Maybe. But after enough time, I decided you weren’t like the rest. You’re as supernatural as I am.”

“Supernaturally handsome? I agree.”

“Stop.”

“You didn’t think I’d be afraid of you.”

“I’d hoped as much.”

“And you still didn’t tell me.” Your fingertips danced along the arch of his cheekbone, leaving pleasant sparks against his skin in their wake, unbeknownst to you. “Were you scared?”

“I’d rather have you as a man for whatever time we had together than to lose you to a beast,” he explained, cryptic as one would expect an old legend to be. “I’ve lost too much already because of…this. Because of me. I didn’t want to lose more.” Miguel’s dark brows furrowed. “If you ended up fearing me to, I–”

You silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “Enough. I understand.” You palm smoothed back up to cup his face. “You needn’t be afraid of me–well, being afraid, I suppose. I’ll stay.” You took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “This bed’s too comfortable to give up, after all.”

His breath fanned against your skin as he chuckled, tired and perhaps tinted with disbelief. “Well, you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Brilliant. Would you even let me drink your blood?”

The rumble of a growl, or perhaps a purr, rolled through his chest into yours. You searched his eyes, wondering, hoping, and found mere slices of ruby peeking out from behind eclipsing pupils.

“We’ll see.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #vampire miguel #vampire!miguel #Vampire Miguel O'hara

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salems-hyperfixations · 3 months

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A warlock kneels before the altar of their patron. "My lord, I wish to withdraw from our pact."

An otherworldly voice echoes throughout the chamber. "We are sorry to see you go. Please describe your reason for unsubscribing."

"I'm retiring as an adventurer and no longer need the powers, and they're too expensive to be worth keeping if I'm not going to be using them."

"Very well. Please fill out the unsubscription form and mail it to the listed address."

In a burst of flame, a scroll appears upon the altar and begins to unfurl. It stretches across the entire room.

"Is all this really necessary? It took like three minutes to form the pact. Also I don't know any couriers that deliver to the Nine Hells."

"Your unsubscription will be processed within five to eight business years after it is received."

#D&D #DnD #dungeons and dragons

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kaeyats · 2 years

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SAGAU,, the creator's bride/groom

a rumor that the almighty creator of teyvat is in the process of choosing a spouse spreads like wildfire. and all their acolytes start sucking up to them like insane. mondstadt edition! part 2 / liyue version here.

reader's gender is not specified, as with most of my works. requests and imagines in my ask box are appreciated, but will take a while. :D

warnings: none

no one knows where it originated from. where the string of whispers began and who lit the match that set a fire throughout the whole of teyvat. all they knew was that there was no information to deny the rumors and therefore, it was more likely the truth. and it would stay the truth to all the citizens roaming genshin's world until proven otherwise.

in the streets of mondstadt, the city of freedom, business seemed busier than usual. and the usually happy-go-lucky people acted with more haste in their movements, jumping from one block to another to discuss the recent rumors regarding their all-creator.

venti seemed to phase out significantly more than he usually does. it frustrated those who listened whenever he stopped in the middle of a song to seemingly stare down at his hands, lost in another world. soon enough, many of angel share's patrons left disgruntled, mumbling about how unsatisfactory the bard's performance had been that night. it wasn't that venti didn't hear their harsh words, he just didn't seem to care considering the heavier importance of what he had been phasing out for. he knew how easy it was for the citizens of mondstadt to believe and spread baseless rumors, but he couldn't help but plan out the many ways he could win your favor and hand in marriage. the idea had him giddy on his seat, ever so prideful in his abilities. he imagined in his head, how heavenly you would look, smothering him in your affection, calling the anemo archon your husband, telling him that you, the greatest being in the existence of teyvat, loved him and him only.

now you'd think diluc would be bothered by the amount of customers leaving the tavern, but he was just as equally lost in thought as the alleged "tone-deaf bard." unlike venti though, his lack of mindfulness didn't hinder him from performing his job just as well as others expected from him. but, if you observed the red-head closely, even for just a second, you'd see how his eyes gazed at nothing in particular and how his cheeks would turn the same shade of red as his hair ever so often. diluc knew he would be a good spouse to you. he's been worshipping you for about the entirety of his life and he wouldn't mind, in fact, he'd be ecstatic to worship you for a dozen more liftetimes. he'd serve you so well, catering to your every need. he was foreign to affection at this point, yes, but he'd let you do anything to him as long as it made you happy. it made his face heat up, just thinking about the way you'd kiss his cheek, praising him for how good he is to you.

kaeya, ever so sly and observant, saw the way his brother's eyes were glazed over with a look of longing. he didn't need to ask why (not like diluc would tell him anyway), it was the only interesting topic anyone talked about at that point. the creator of teyvat, an ancient god that many worshipped and adored, has been rumored to be looking for a spouse amongst their many, many followers. now, kaeya wasn't one to mindlessly follow new trends or indulge in himself too much, but.. he couldn't deny the sickeningly sweet feeling he got whenever he thought about you choosing him. of course, he never cared about godly titles. lord knows how much he has suffered because of the gods themselves. but he's met you before, spoke to you with his own mouth and listened to you reply with his own ears. slowly but surely, he fell in love with you and your otherworldly presence, growing fond of the quirky habits that you picked up from this so called "earth." he thought about how lonely it must've been for you to be regarded so highly and put on a pedestal, so he let you indulge in the freedom of being treated like a normal person when you were around him. he was hoping that maybe that was enough to get you to choose him.

albedo would only be able to hear of the news the next morning, the morning he decided to descend down to the city of mondstadt, there solely to gather a new batch of supplies. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but gosh, do the ladies in the marketplace speak loudly. he was a bit shocked by the news, never predicting something like this would come. neither did he expect to be so.. attached to your presence. it was strange, but he wanted to be around you at all times. at first he was convinced it was out of curiosity and respect, but the way he felt ever so warm around you for no particular reason told him otherwise. he wanted to be around you at all times, to be able to protect, to indulge in you. but alas, many other people needed you. he wondered, if you two were to get married, would you be by his side all the time? he considered the possibility, allowing himself to daydream briefly, before calculating a plan in his head.

jean would hear of the news in her office, unable to quite process the.. baffling information. she felt scandalous, viewing a primordial being in that light. she should feel shameful, she told herself. she was but a simple mortal, a simple acting grandmaster, in a simple city. of course you wouldn't consider her a candidate in marriage. she was quite lucky to even be acknowledged by you in the first place. but, but some part of her wanted to hope, and the moment she did, she regretted it because her heartbeat burst into stellar rates before two chaotic forces intruded the peace of her quarters. eula and amber would be straight-out demanding answers from jean, eager to know and expressing so in completely different ways. eula would look quite agitated, frustrated even, the anticipation of knowing ate her up from the inside out. amber would be much more bouncy, nervous about the rumors she had heard from other knights. jean would of course tell them they were just rumors, but the two were already making plans to win you over.

"your grace! i didn't expect to see you around here, fancy yourself an apple?" venti, ever so energetic, asked from above you, only finding it efficient to fly down the statue of himself once you opened your mouth.

"ah, no, i'm fine. i just need some air is all." you shook your head, looking away from venti to stare at the giant oak tree of windrise. you didn't know what to expect from the bard. would he be as bad as the other archons?

"oh? i'm pretty sure there's plenty of air in liyue and inazuma, your grace. not unless i'm mistaken."

you chuckled at his statement, cringing at how rude and sarcastic it sounded. "well, yes, but the people there have been a lot more.. suffocating than usual."

venti wondered if it had anything to do with the current marriage rumors running around, but he dared not comment, knowing that if he did, it would only make you feel worse.

the next few days in mondstadt were quite strange, stranger than usual. you were glad the people there gave you more space than you got in the other nations, expected from the nation of freedom. but, you couldn't help but notice how fidgety everyone has been acting.

the way noelle, the diligent and hardworking maid, who was usually so kind and casual to you, turned beet red whenever you were in close proximity. "y- your grace! do you need assistance with anything? anything at all? o-oh no, i'm fine."

the way diluc, who would usually just politely look at you in the background, approached you with more luxurious gifts and proposals of.. friendly dates. "i was hoping you'd enjoy your stay in mondstadt, your grace. but even more so, i was hoping you'd enjoy my presence above everything else like i enjoy yours."

the way kaeya, who usually blatantly teased you, acted more gentlemanly around you. kissing the top of your hand, gracing you with compliments that were much sweeter and more genuine than what you'd usually get from the cavalry captain, the way he'd actively seek out your presence and ask you out for lunch. "has anyone ever told you that you're absolutely breathtaking, [name]?"

the way jean, who was usually so confident and composed, looked nervous whenever you greeted her a simple 'good morning' or 'good evening.' sometimes she even stuttered over her words, something that shocked you and everyone else who was lucky enough to witness it. "yes, you do look gorgeous tonight- i mean, the sky looks- the night sky looks gorgeous tonight! argh, i sincerely apologize for my inappropriate behavior, your grace."

the way amber, who was usually so chill, stumbled upon her steps, looking burnt amd beaten, approached you with a gift in hand. unlike diluc, her gifts weren't bought, they seemed to have been hunted down by amber herself which was entirely impressive and thoughtful of her. "n- no need to thank me, your grace. just wanted to give you something worth carrying around as always!"

the way aether (and paimon, by extension) followed you around even more so than they usually do. not that you minded, you liked it, in fact. but it was a bit unusual, considering how aether usually had many commissions to do. "last night, aether told paimon that he wanted to mmphf-"

the way albedo had started inviting you to his base in wolvendom more often or went down to the city to seemingly just hang out with you. you found him quite interesting, so the time you two spent had been a highlight in your time in mondstadt. especially the moment when, "your grace, i heard that you've been looking for a spouse amongst your acolytes. i was wondering if.. you ever considered me?"

you felt your face heat up. ah, so that's what this was all about.

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sas-soulwriter · 6 months

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Dark ideas for your book

(promts)

The Eclipsed City: In a dystopian future, a city is perpetually shrouded in darkness due to a rare cosmic event. Within its shadows, a mysterious cult thrives, promising salvation to those who embrace the eternal night.

Spectral Inheritance: A family cursed with the ability to see and communicate with ghosts is haunted by a malevolent spirit that seeks to manipulate them into committing unspeakable acts.

The Silence Plague: A mysterious illness sweeps across the world, causing those afflicted to lose the ability to speak. As society collapses, a group of survivors must navigate the eerie quietness and unravel the origins of the plague.

Cabinet of Wonders: An eccentric collector amasses a macabre assortment of cursed artifacts. When a group of thieves attempts to steal from the collection, they unwittingly unleash ancient evils upon the world.

The Labyrinthine Asylum: A renowned psychologist opens an asylum for the criminally insane, but as he delves into the minds of the patients, he discovers a shared, otherworldly experience that threatens to consume them all.

The Dollmaker's Obsession: A toymaker creates eerily lifelike dolls imbued with the souls of the deceased. As the dolls begin to exhibit disturbing behavior, the townspeople must confront the consequences of meddling with the afterlife.

The Whispering Woods: A forest is rumored to house a malevolent entity that preys on the deepest fears of those who enter. A group of friends camping in the woods must confront their inner demons as reality warps around them.

Mirror, Mirror: A cursed mirror reflects not the physical appearance but the innermost desires of those who gaze into it. As individuals succumb to their obsessions, the mirror's dark power grows stronger.

The Forgotten Carnival: A long-abandoned carnival mysteriously reopens, drawing in unsuspecting visitors. However, the attractions harbor supernatural secrets that force patrons to face their darkest fears.

Phantom Limbs: After a groundbreaking medical procedure, patients begin to experience the sensation of phantom limbs that seem to have a life of their own, leading to a series of grisly and unexplainable events.

The Clockwork Curse: A clockmaker crafts a series of intricate, cursed timepieces that manipulate the lives of their owners. As time unravels, the characters must race against the clock to break the curse.

The Wretched Symphony: In a haunted opera house, a composer unwittingly writes a masterpiece that channels the anguish of tormented spirits. The music's power transcends the stage, causing supernatural disturbances throughout the city.

The Soul Market: A hidden market emerges where people can buy and sell souls. Those who partake soon discover the horrifying consequences of trading away their essence.

Tunnels of Despair: A series of mysterious tunnels are discovered beneath a small town, leading to an ancient chamber that houses a malevolent force capable of manifesting the fears of anyone who enters.

The Crimson Masquerade: At a masquerade ball, attendees wearing cursed masks find themselves trapped in a surreal realm where their darkest secrets are revealed, leading to a night of intrigue, betrayal, and horror.

The Oracle's Prophecy: A gifted oracle foretells a series of apocalyptic events, and a group of unlikely heroes must decipher the cryptic messages to prevent the end of the world.

The Coven's Conspiracy: In a secluded village, a coven of witches enacts a dark ritual to unleash a powerful ancient entity. As the villagers begin to vanish, a lone investigator must confront the supernatural forces at play.

The Unseen Gallery: An artist creates paintings that come to life, each depicting a nightmarish realm. As the paintings multiply, they threaten to merge the real world with their grotesque dimensions.

The Haunting Melody: A cursed melody is passed down through generations, causing madness and death to those who hear it. A musician discovers the haunting tune and must find a way to break the curse before it claims more lives.

The Apothecary's Concoction: A mysterious apothecary brews elixirs that grant extraordinary abilities, but at a cost. As users become addicted to the potions, they spiral into madness, leading to a city on the brink of collapse.

#creative writing #writing #writblr #writing advice #writers block #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr #writing tips #words #promt #writer stuff

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dartagnantt · 3 months

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Otherworldly Patron: The Absolute | Become a thrall… erm true soul of Baldur's Gate 3's absolute

PDFs of this and more can be found over on at my Patreon here!

Welcome to 'Inexorable' and what could be any more unstoppable than something which is absolute… ignoring the fact that the absolute is capable of being defeated. But yeah, become a true soul and expand your mind

Expanded Mind

Just the basics, by psychic and cast spells with your mind changing the spellcasting stat because it felt on brand.

Authority

The narrator saying "Authority" has been branded into my mind, I couldn't not add it. I did have to generalise it since I can't mechanically guarantee branded cultists. In the end, this is somewhere in between suggestion and command. It is, however, not a charm effect, so feel free to do terrible things to elves. And if you wonder why I let you harm people with it… fight the gnolls and get back to me.

Absorb Intellect

This was one of the illithid powers you can unlock, but since this isn't a video game, I can't just give you free healing. So instead, some risk reward. The higher the int of the target, the juicier the brain, but the more likely they are to resist this effect

Detect Intellect

This is a power from the elder brain in 5e, except not up to a mile. So I broaden you mind a little further

Psionic Transportation

The fly power is something you get if you choose to absorb the astral touched tadpole, so I made it the capstone

Exalted Mind

I like the idea of your otherworldly patron making you capable of expanding past your mortal limits, this doesn't actually increase you intelligence, but it does make it possible

Far Reaching Intellect

People like more range, right?

I will not be Denied!

I always like the idea of messing with creature type restrictions. And most undead and constructs are controlled anyway, so why not?

Psionic Backlash

This is based on two powers from baldur's gate, mushed together.

Psionic Barrier

Psychic shield instead of force shield. Seemed neat.

Psionic Passenger

Why not treat your mind controlled thrall like a familiar

Mind Blast

Yet another power, except as a spell, so I could scale it like one :)

And now to plug my stuff. I release homebrews weekly over on my Patreon. Anyone who pledges $1 or more per post don't have to wait a month to see them, and also help fund my being alive habit.

At the moment, they have exclusive access to the following:

Martial Archetype: Knight of the Fallen Oak

Words of Power

Maelstrom Hammer

Sealing Rituals

I also have three classes, and a splatbook over on DriveThrueRPG to check out:

The Rift Binder. A class specialising in summoning monsters and controlling the battlefield.

The Witch Knight. A class that combines swords and sorcery in the most literal way.

The Werebeast. A class that turns you into a half beast to destroy your foes.

d'Artagnan's Adventurer Almanac. A compendium of races, subclasses, feats, spells, monsters and more!

#d&d 5e #subclasses #warlock #otherworldly patron #dnd item #dnd homebrew #dnd5e #dnd 5e homebrew #d&d homebrew #d&d items #d&d5e

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avelera · 1 year

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A twist on the 1589 meeting, but what if Hob had acted fast when he spotted Dream’s interest in Shaxberd and instead of just getting jealous, he’d invited Will and Marlowe to their table as well?

Shaxberd is only barely getting started as a playwright. Hob and Marlowe seem acquainted. They might well have accepted the invitation to all dine together. It would be a natural thing to do at a tavern after all.

Because now I’m imagining the look on Dream’s face when this starving playwright he’s trying to cruise lights up at the prospect of the banquet laid out in front of Hob thus robbing Dream of his convenient escape. And from Shaxberd’s point of view, this is Hob’s guest, right? Hob is clearly a man of some importance and it would be rude to drag his guest away to talk business. Especially if it means a free meal of such quality.

So anyway, this is how Dream got stuck at a four hour long dinner with Hob, Kit Marlowe, and Will Shaxberd over some rather excellent mortal food and a much better time than he ever expected to have and frankly being more than a little pissed off about it and how Death might have been right that hanging out with humans can be fun.

It’s also the story about how Hob got 10x more answers than he ever got before out of his stranger by dint of the longer time together and how awkward it would be for Dream not to answer some of them with two other people present ruining the mystery of it all. It’s also how Hob figured out that Dream likes talking about art and so Hob was able to switch gears in time to actually have a conversation with Dream that didn’t make it look like Dream he would rather gouge his eyes out than listen to another word. Hob might not be the artistic sort but he’s not totally incapable of analyzing a play about a man making a supernatural bargain with the devil, and everyone at the table loved Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus.

And it’s the story of how Marlowe figured out in .2 seconds that an otherworldly creature was at the table with them and subtly helping out Hob direct his questions for best possible effect, and how both Marlowe and Shaxberd got a rich patron out of it.

#dreamling #fic prompt #1589 #I’m already writing a 1589 fic of a different stripe but this idea tickled me #free to a good home

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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Planescape: The Inclementus Convolution

It is simple as hells go, there is the snow, the walls, and the shape of things that will haunt you for the rest of your days

It appears first as a troubling dream, endless anxious wanderings through a frigid and featureless maze. While most shrug off these visions others sink into a deep and restless malady, possessed by recurring feelings of being cold and lost. For some the dreams deepen, overtaking their waking life until they sink into an unwakung torpor, others are compelled to walk: seeking out winding alleys or wintry landscapes in the hope of finding a way OUT of the maze, only to find themselves transported to it bodily.

Occult scholars of dream and dimension have named this phenomenon the Inclementus Convolution, and conjectures on its purpose and original architects feature in many a forbidden tome. What these dabblers have failed to understand is that the convolution is not a thing of artifice but part of a great unknowable entity, which uses the maze to filter-feed from the multiverse the way a great whale uses baleen to trawl the sea. While the exact nature of this entity will be discussed below the cut, whats far more interesting is how the appearance of this dream labyrinth affects the lives of others.

A series of disappearances has the party tracing the city’s backstreets tracking rumours of a slaver gang or some kind of monstrous presence. Imagine their surprise when they not only find one of the lost individuals wandering in fevered confusion, standing before an alley from which unseasonable snow billows.

Nearly swept up in the convolution as a child, a minor noble has bent the wealth of her station towards determining the meaning of that traumatic vision, becoming a notable patron for adventurers as she sends them off to explore various ruins or gather scraps of potentially relevant lore. The party are hired by her for a mission, but weeks later when they return from their delve they find that her estate has fallen prey to an otherworldly influence. They’ll need to brave the twisting halls of her manorhome and the hedgemazes that sprawl across the grounds if they want to get paid, and maybe rescue their hapless benefactor in the process.

A fairly simple bounty mission to track down an occultist hiding in the mountains and bring him back alive quickly goes out of control after he opens a portal to the convolution inside his cell, transforming the surrounding guard barracks and its prisons into an eacheresque tangle backing onto an eldritch landscape. With other prisoners looking desperately to escape and panicking guards looking to arrest everyone they don’t recognize, will the party be able to escape before the whole structure is subsumed into nightmare?

The entity at the centre of the maze is seldom seen by those lost with the expanse as the upper reaches of the towering walls are obscured by an omnipresent cloud cover. As such no earthly name has been given to it, as the miles long tendrils it sends skulking through the corners are often confused for individual lifeforms which some call. It is not malicious, nor is it strictly sentient, it is simply a lifeform doing what it has always done to survive, nevermind that it involves pinching beings from across the cosmos. Creatures that die within the convolution desiccate, their bodies becoming dried out husks as the moisture within them is absorbed by the surrounding stone to feed the entity above and later join with the ever present snow, the built up condensation from innumerable victims across time.

Future Adventures:

Lost souls from many worlds have left marks on the walls of the convolution, pleas for help, attempts to map a way out, epitaphs and memorials from those that knew their end was near. One of these happened to be a sage with secret knowledge most relevant to the party's ongoing struggles, meaning if that they want to find it for themselves they're not only going to have to find their way into and through the labyrinth, but also Ariadne their way back out after finding and deciphering the message he left.

Though very little can survive long in the endless halls, there are some interdimensional oddities that have managed to persist around the fringes, carried from one world to the next as the Inclementus seeks out new victims.

The most fearful of these passengers are a remnants of an alien empire known as the Tssol who were led into the convolution when their god-prince decided to lead his people into the otherworld following a "holy vision" (and the encouragement by his less theisticly inclined siblings looking to clear a path to the throne). The survivors of this royal expedition have endured for centuries by by carving their city into the oldest walls of the labrynth, where the entity's fleshy stalks merge with the endless walls. They worship it, subsisting from the meat sloughed off as it grows and using the remains to feed fungal farms, counting themselves blessed for following the god-prince's vision. Those that stumble into the maze are of particular interest to them, as individuals affected by Inclementus influence are capable of wandering in and out of the aberrant realm allowing the Tssol warriors to ride out and launch raids on other worlds.

#dnd #d&d #mid level #low level #dungeon #lovecraftian #abberations #city #noble #planescape #hell #bounty #bounty hunting #occult #dungeons and dragons #ttprg #pathfinder #horror #spooky #eldritch

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lexsssu · 5 months

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Moon (Kaedehara Kazuha)

TAGS: Kazuha/Dragoness!reader, breeding, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

Kazuha is all too used to seeing odd things from his perch atop Beidou’s ship. Sailing across the sea for months at a time had accustomed him to the strange happenings that occurred when one could only see and smell saltwater for weeks.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

His neck practically snapped towards the direction of the unfamiliar voice, ruby orbs widening and jaw dropping as he beheld an ivory-haired young woman seemingly floating in the air. She was sitting on thin air as if she had a chair beneath her, but the samurai knew that if he held his hand out his fingers would touch nothing.

Whoever or whatever she was, the golden hue of her eyes twinkled as the soft beams of moonlight gave her body an ethereal glow that solidified Kazuha’s theory that if not a figment of his overactive imagination, she was definitely some sort of spirit unbound by the shackles of mortality.

Because how could a mere human ever look as beautiful as she did? Merely a glimpse of her pure visage stole his breath away as all the flowery and poetic words he could use to describe her seemed stuck in his throat.

“Yes. Beautiful…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, allow me just this once and I shall never ask anything of you ever again. You can return to whichever realm you’ve come from, but please...just this once and I’ll be satisfied for the rest of my life…”

The wandering samurai’s whole body was flushed from head to toe, rational mind fogged thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol he’d downed earlier after finding himself in a somber mood. He’d allowed himself to be goaded by his fellow crewmates for once, drinking until he could barely even walk straight as the ale numbed his senses.

But no amount of drink can ever numb the feelings that had inevitably planted itself in his heart like a small seed, blooming into a flower as night after night passed where he’d spend the majority of his evenings in your company. It didn’t help that as otherworldly as you looked, you were as down to earth as any ordinary person.

Perhaps that’s what hooked him in the first place.

The soft smiles you’d send him would send his heart aflutter, the melodious giggles had him captivated, and everything else you did set his blood ablaze with feelings he never thought he’d experience as a man who prided himself in being as airy as the wind he wielded.

“You’re so warm...so...so soft…!” Kazuha gritted his teeth as sweat dripped down his temple, hips unrelenting in their thrusts as he was consumed by his undeniable desire. He had you on your knees, face down ass up as he pummeled the entire length of his cock into your warm and tight hole. His red eyes glowed with fire, so unlike the calm winds, as moans and whimpers were coaxed from your pretty lips that he'd had the pleasure of tasting just earlier.

While he was no green boy, his brother-in-arms Tomo having repeatedly dragged him to the red light districts of the places they'd wandered to, he wasn't as easily swayed by carnal desires as the other man. Usually, he just waited at the oden carts located near such establishments, conversing with their owners and or other patrons as he waited for his inebriated and satiated friend to finish.

But this? Kazuha had never felt such an intense need to stuff his cock inside a willing cunt and paint it white with his virile seed, but then again you weren't just any willing cunt, were you? The platinum-blonde is enamored with you, a corporeal spirit, to the point that you made him throw away all his calm out the door.

That is why he fucks into you so furiously, plowing you with the single-minded mission to pour all his desires inside of you. Since you're a spirit and he's a human there's no way that his seed will take, right? Despite reassuring himself, a small and dark part of Kazuha fed him images of you glowing with a maternal shine as your belly swelled with life.

Such an image has the samurai speeding up his movements, hips sputtering all too soon before shoving the entire length of his cock inside your warm and moist insides as jets of hot and gooey cum filled you to the brim.

He is always a careful man, because he knows that he can't give a good life to any woman who wants to wed him and bear his child with his current situation. However, he supposes that it's alright to finish inside you, because this is most likely the last time he'd see you and as a spirit there was no way your body would actually accept his inferior seed...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, look who the cat dragged in. Took you long enough to visit, Kazu-chin~"

"...Tomo?"

"In the flesh! ...Or maybe not since my soul is still definitely mine, but it's the body that's new since the old Shogun fried me back then. Hahaha!"

"But...but how?"

"It's all thanks to our new archon! You should've seen it. I've been hanging out here ever since I died, but no one can see or hear me except for her of course! She kinda just appeared all of a sudden and me being the gentleman that I am, I watched out for her and you wouldn't believe how shocked I was when she could apparently see and hear me!"

The former fugitive could only gape as he stared at his old friend with wide eyes, acting as animated as he was before challenging the raiden shogun. Tomo however, wore new attire now that was especially befitting of a samurai that served a worthy lord. Unsurprising as he was now apparently part of the new shogun's honor guard.

"Anyways, I told her all about what's been happening here and you know what she did after I finished the whole story? She marched straight towards the shogun and ANNIHILATED her. It looked like something straight out of the Archon War with how ruthless she was! Oh, but she didn't hurt anyone else after that. Heck, she even returned everyone's visions and gave me a new body that she just conjured from nothing. So here I am now, back and even badder than before!"

The new captain grinned as he flexed his 'new' body, posing embarrassingly until Kazuha gave him a deadpan stare at his antics. A group of handmaidens passed by, giggling as they gave Tomo sly looks which the man returned with his own flirtatious wink.

"...You've essentially died and risen from death, but you're still an incorrigible flirt as always"

"It's not my fault that the ladies just can't get enough of this—"

"Tomo? I was looking everywhere for you—"

And just like that first night beneath the light of the moon, the young man practically snapped his neck at the speed at which he turned to behold the owner of the voice that haunted him even in his dreams.

There you stood, as beautiful and ethereal as the last time he managed to hold you. Except...there seemed to be some roundness around your midsection, almost as if you were actually preg—

"KAZUHA!!!"

Like a predator that caught sight of its prey and assured in the inevitability of its kill, you pounced and he could do nothing except catch you in his arms. He took care not to embrace you too tightly however, conscious of your apparent condition as his fried brain tried to take in all the revelations that had been dropped on him in less than an hour.

You purr and chirp as you rub your cheek against your mate's neck, scenting him and staking your claim upon the male as he stood still as stone from the information overload.

Meanwhile, Tomo was equally shocked and amused at the turn of events.

"...Huh, so you're the bastard that knocked up our new archon… Guess this means I'll be a very proud godfather and uncle very soon!"

The former scion of the noble Kaedehara samurai household turned wanderer, branded a fugitive, escaped as a sailor, was now the consort of an archon and a soon-to-be father.

...He knew he should have never befriended Tomo in the first place.

#lexsssu writes #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x y/n #genshin kazuha #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact smut #crossposted on ao3

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himejoshikomaeda · 8 months

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girl witch: attractive. we all know this. girl wizard: big naturals of course girl mage: cute. so so cute. the biggest hat probably girl sorcerer: the kinda girl that gets straight A's without even studying. naturally, the sex is tremendous. girl warlock: you're fucking her AND her "otherworldly patron". girl magus: good for if you like getting yelled at in bed (happens) girl magician: showy. makes a real spectacle out of your courtship girl "magic user": milf

#✨

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 11 months

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lesson (not) learned

part two: lesson (still not) learned wc: 1.5k reader: afab (maybe also only femme but i don’t think so? idk lemme know if you think it should be labeled femme) warnings: minors dni explicit smut!!!!!, established poly!relationship, oral m!receiving, fingering, learned this word today: pussyjob, hard/softdom!hanbin, switch!hao, sub(i guess mostly)!reader, hanbin and hao are not that nice but they love you (hanbin loves you more tho lol), addressing hanbin as "sir" towards the end, hanbin calls them puppies one time, mxm but very light, i guess light angst but a good ending, basically you and hao are always competing to be hanbin's favorite lol summary: hanbin punishes a bickering poly!reader and hao for fucking without his permission; they do not learn their lesson this started out as something else and then became this. oops. gonna have to write that original idea too eventually. enjoy :)

🚨MINORS DNI 18+ EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW🚨

“what was that, baby?” hao asks, hand tangled in your hair as he grips it tightly. somehow his tone remains patronizing despite the fact you’ve been edging him for at least half an hour. “can’t talk with a big cock in your mouth?”

you try to answer again, but it’s useless; a frustrated moan comes out of you instead and, for a moment, the curtain falls on hao’s persona he’s been maintaining to impress his other lover. you can see it in his eyes how the vibration on his cock affects him; how he desperately wants to give in to you. he always wants to cave a few minutes in.

but...

he blinks quickly; tightening his grip on your hair and yanking a bit harsher. “come on. he’s... he’s gonna get mad at us again if we don’t finish our punishment.”

a pointed exhale from the corner draws your attention to the third presence in the room. “aw, hao hyung, don’t be silly now. why would i get mad at you? hmm?”

the words are kind on paper-- playful even. but you would never know by the way hanbin says them. a viper’s tongue.

stupidly, you make eye contact with him. he’s lounging back in a leather armchair, a hand over his mouth and one eyebrow cocked in what seems to be amusement. a small beam of light illuminates a diagonal strip of his face from the corner of his left eye to his jaw bone. he looks otherworldly like this and the heavenly visual causes you to lose your grip on hao’s cock in your mouth.

it lolls out of you with a pitiful pop.

“baby,” hao pleads annoyedly, taking your face in his hands to try to get your attention but your fixation on hanbin’s beauty is just too strong. “baby, we need to keep going or he’s--.”

by the time you’ve actually comprehended hao’s words, a cruel laugh is already escaping hanbin’s throat from the corner of the room. “how did i manage to find the two stupidest, horniest people on the planet?”

“fuck,” hao whispers angrily, shaking your face that’s still in his hands. “this is all your fault! you always do this!”

“this is not my fault! are you kidding me!?” you defend, childishly folding your arms across your chest. “you’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off me earlier.”

“you literally grabbed my fingers and stuck them in your pussy,” hao counters, glaring at you. “you always want him to think you’re his perfect little angel, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. you’re just a spoiled fucking brat who needs--.”

your lips are on hao’s before he can finish his assassination of your character. unfortunately you just can’t help yourself when he talks to you like that. but hao is no lesson in self control either, seeing as he’s moaning into your mouth within seconds; pushing your back down onto the bed beneath him. in between your thighs, the head of his cock starts to tease your entrance.

“fuck,” hao whines needily, rutting against you and, as he does, treading dangerously close to forbidden territory for the second time today. the desperation in hao’s voice only turns you on more, though and, clouded with lust, you also forget about the events that happened just hours ago.

“pleasepleaseplease, need you,” you beg incomprehensibly, the head of hao’s cock pressing into your clit. “fuck hao, please, just need you inside me now.”

“oh my god,” hao says as if he’s gonna lose his mind if he can’t put his cock in you in the next five seconds. “fuck, i can’t--... we can’t, baby. we’re not supposed to...”

though hao is certainly attempting to convince himself not to finally push himself inside your dripping hole, he’s failing miserably. you feel him start to rut progressively deeper, his resolve slowly turning to moans and whimpers until--

“you two never fucking learn your lesson, do you?”

your whole body freezes as hanbin yanks hao up by his ear to a kneeling position. hao seethes at the pain and hanbin whispers something in his ear that shuts him up without discourse. the sinking feeling in your gut reaches its height when hanbin’s attention turns to you.

“binnie, please,” you start to plead as hanbin just smiles coolly back at you. “hao started it! i would never break the rules, binnie-- i promise.”

hao opens his mouth to argue, but a quick glare from hanbin settles him down. the younger man lets go of hao’s ear; stepping closer to you. a gentle hand finds your jaw, pulling you up to meet him in a kiss. it’s sultry and warm and once again has you squeezing your thighs together for relief.

“cute,” hanbin coos, his left hand reaching to cup your heat. you can’t help but grind against his fingers as hanbin fawns over you. you know it’s a trap. but you just can’t help yourself.

neither can hao, whose hand has already begun stroking his cock again.

“hao hyung started this-- is that right, angel?” hanbin asks, pouting at you as he rubs his thumb across your cheek sweetly. and then the other shoe drops. “hao hyung is the one who got my angel this wet?”

you shake your head frantically. “no! no, binnie--.”

he tilts his head to the side-- a suggestion (or threat) that you better start using his preferred title effective immediately.

“i’m sorry, sir, i just--.”

“i was five fucking feet away from you-- you think you can lie to me?” hanbin’s tone surprisingly isn’t so much angry as it is... disappointed. your eyes meet hao’s and you know he’s thinking the same thing:

this is not good.

“bin-ah,” hao says softly, cautiously reaching out a hand to touch hanbin’s shoulder. “binnie, are you really upset?”

hanbin sighs melodramatically, shrugging off hao’s touch and turning away from the bed. “you both want each other so bad. it doesn’t really seem like you need me anymore.”

“what!?” you exclaim, scrambling to sit up and wrap your arms around his neck from behind. “of course we need you, hanbinnie! we love you. and i love you way more than hao loves you.”

“you’re such a little...” hao starts, grabbing your nipple between his fingers and pinching hard. you squeal and he sticks his tongue out at you as he takes hanbin’s hand in his own. “we’re trying to reassure hanbinnie and you still find a way to make it all about you? so typical. and for your information, he likes me more than you.”

“he does not! he said--... he said...” your words trail off as you suddenly feel hanbin pressing kisses up your arm where it hangs across his chest. “hanbinnie, we’re sorry. we need you. clearly we need you. we’d kill each other without you.”

“so sorry, binnie,” hao mumbles into hanbin’s shoulder. “we just can’t help ourselves sometimes.”

“we--... we need to be punished again, binnie,” you say, kissing his neck sweetly.

“please, binnie?” hao echoes hopefully. “we’ll be good this time!”

the sound of hanbin chuckling is not what either of you are expecting to hear, but when he turns around with a glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes, an exhilarating chill runs down your spine. all of this-- from the moment hanbin had left you alone with hao this afternoon while he went to get groceries up to now-- had been one giant trap.

you and hao were really in for it now.

“you’re both a little too soft for your own good, don’t you think?” hanbin muses with a smirk. “we all know you desperately need me.”

you look down at your lap in shame and you know that hao is doing the same.

“but i need you too,” he adds, a hand running up one of yours and hao’s thighs. “my two favorite puppies. so perfect. just need some more training is all.”

“yes, sir,” you and hao respond together happily.

just as hanbin’s left hand wraps around the base of hao’s cock and the fingers of his right hand find your entrance, his phone starts to ring in his back pocket. “fuck,” he curses, removing his fingers from you and reaching for his phone. you start to whine, but a sharp look keeps you quiet.

“i have to take this,” hanbin sighs, walking towards the door. “when i come back, i better find you both on your stomachs for me. understand?”

“yes, sir,” the two of you respond from the bed again.

as the door shuts behind hanbin, you look at hao. his eyes are narrowed in anger and the head of his cock is leaking pathetically. you stare at each other for a long moment before hao quickly gives up and begins climbing back between your legs.

hanbin knows exactly what he’s going to walk back into. and though he knows he’s going to have to make you both pay for it...

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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