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ladyfogg · 3 months

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Perfect Fit

Fic Summary: Since the first time you let him bite you, Astarion knew seducing you would be easy. What he didn’t anticipate were the feelings that came with it.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Drow!Monk Reader

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: Biting, Blood Drinking (Vampire and all that), Male Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Sex, Grinding, Cuddling

A/N: I’m really glad I took my time with this one because I absolutely love how it came out. Enjoy! I don’t know if I’ll write any other Astarion fics but we’ll see.

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Just a taste, that is all he needs.

Boars and wildlife will not suffice, not if your little troop of weirdos keeps going at the same grueling pace. Since the moment he had been snatched up and that damn tadpole shoved into his eye it has been one battle after another.

The diet Cazador forced him onto had already weakened him. And Astarion knew that if he did not do something soon, if he couldn’t keep up with the others, you will turn your back on him.

After all, why keep him around if he isn’t useful?

No, he needs to stay in your good graces. More than that, he needs you to trust him, to care for him. It’s the only way he can ensure that when his former master comes knocking, because Astarion is not naïve enough to assume he is completely free, you will be there shielding him, to knock back.

Which you are obviously capable of doing. He’s seen you fight enough times to know you have a quick temper and an even quicker right hook.

You are the defacto leader, the one who always seems to do the talking even though you’re not the most charismatic of the bunch. Yet, when you open your mouth, the others listen, take your word as law even when they don’t agree.

Astarion finds himself falling in line along with them. Then again, he has two hundred years of conditioning to contend with. He wonders what excuse the others have.

Regardless, the plan remains the same. Seduce you, get you on his side, save his spectacular, frankly tight, ass. Simple. He’s played this part more times than he can count and can do it in his trance.

Of course, none of that matters if he starves to death. The gnawing hunger deep in his belly is distracting and has been for days. He’s used to ignoring it, even in the thick of combat. But he can’t, not tonight.

Tonight, it’s bad enough to get in the way of hunting. He can’t keep up with a lame doe he stumbles across. It bolts before he is even close enough to lunge. Not good. He returns to his tent frustrated and desperate.

Red eyes scan the still camp, predatory and sharp. He told you all he would keep watch because he needed time and space to think, which is partially true. However, that was when he hoped to catch dinner.

How in the Hells can he bloody think when he’s starving?

There’s a rustling near the fire, immediately drawing his attention. His gaze falls on you while you shift, your back to him as your body rolls towards the warmth of the campfire. A breeze glides through their encampment, bringing your tantalizing scent towards him, beckoning, teasing.

Astarion takes a deep inhale, eyes closed as he unwittingly gives into his instincts. Hunting pushes them away. But with no wildlife to sate him, his feet move on their own, dragging him closer to your prone body. When he opens his eyes, his vision blocks out everything that isn’t you.

The hunger is all that matters and right now, the hunter has finally found his prey.

His steps make no noise as practice and skill take over. He’s close enough to see the subtle rise and fall of your breath, the dim firelight framing you with its eerie glow, leading him like a beacon in the never-ending dark.

Astarion takes a knee, arms out for balance and eyes closed as he moves purely on instinct. He opens his mouth, fangs dripping with saliva at the promise of a meal, a real meal…

A second later he feels you move and his eyes snap open, only to find yours staring up at him. Cold realization slams into him like a heavy maul, making him blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Shit.”

Immediately, he backs away as you quickly rise to your feet, eyes narrowed in distrust. You don’t even have a chance to speak before he launches into an explanation, trying to keep his voice hushed to avoid waking the others.

“No, no, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he insists. “I wasn’t going to hurt you I…” He pauses, taking a breath to ground himself. The bloodlust isn’t satiated, not by a long shot but it is tempered by a furious-looking monk. “I just needed…well…blood.”

It sounds lame even to his own ears. Not his best work but, then again, he isn’t at his best.

You swear, burying your face in your hands. “Fucking unbelievable!” you exclaim in a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it! We even found the boar you snacked on. And you were so quick to brush it away.”

“It’s not what you think!”

Astarion’s voice goes up and you motion for him to be quiet. A quick glance confirms the others are still fast asleep.

The next thing he knows, you’re grabbing his sleeve and tugging him away from the fire, away from the others, which is not at all what he's anticipating. He doesn’t even have a chance to register you’re touching until your hand is already gone, leaving a phantom of its warmth.

“I’m not some monster,” he persuades. “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get. I’m…I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.” He pauses, the hunger taking hold once more. “If I just had a little blood, I could fight better. Please.”

There’s a sharp pain between his eyes, the familiar trigger of the tadpole lodged in his brain. He recognizes the sensation, knows it’s you reaching out, asking, and after a moment of hesitation, he lets you in.

Unlike your companions, you’ve embraced the new connection, used it to convince others to move out of your way or do as you say. Not within the group of course. He suspects you’re too noble for that.

Astarion hasn’t had much time to practice himself. No time like the present. He needs you to see, needs you to understand that what he says is true.

The trust he is trying to build is at stake, no pun intended. You need to see that this is an anomaly, an unfortunate side effect of the intense fighting you both had to endure the last few days.

So Astarion shows you, lets you see fleeting images of what he’s hunted in the woods. But this is all still new. He does not know how it works, does not anticipate the flood of other memories, personal ones he isn’t ready to share.

A dark street, a willing mark, a soft supple body for Cazador’s dark needs. They flicker one after another, a blur of faceless victims he’s lost count of. Yet, none of them with his fangs at their throat or their blood on his lips. It becomes too much too fast.

He gathers his strength and throws up those mental blocks, the ones he’s had for decades yet seem to be crumbling in an instant. With a mental shove, he pushes you out.

While Astarion's body reels from the onslaught, you remain stoic, arms crossed as you stare at him with that intense gaze of yours. The only indication anything is amiss is a head tilt.

How? How are you already so used to these damn tadpoles? You don’t even blink, and with the shadows of the night wrapped around the both of you, he can’t read your expression even with Darkvision. But he can assume and right now, he’s sure he’s fucked up. All he needed was you to trust him and because of this insistent hunger, he’s failed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is not the question he expects and he blinks, taken aback. You don’t sound angry, hells it would be easier if you were. Anger he’s used to, can handle with poise. But Astarion thinks he can work with this, whatever it is.

Because it’s not pity, it’s not empathy, it’s something he does not have a name for.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no, more likely you’ll run a stake through my ribs,” he explains. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Of course you can’t. Anyone who ever put their trust in him came to bloody ends. Yet, he’s seen you drop a gnoll with nothing but your fists and an insane high kick, so he feels you may be sturdier than most.

You study him closely, and Astarion does everything to appear docile and properly chastised, hunching his body to make himself smaller. There’s a beat where neither of you blink or speak. However, he catches the subtle slump of your shoulders and a sigh escapes your lips.

“I believe you,” you say. “And I do trust you.”

Astarion slowly exhales his own sigh, this one of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Then, because he can’t help himself, because his empty stomach twists, because you’re still close enough for him to inhale your scent, he pushes his luck.

“Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice as he bats his eyelashes at you. “I only need a taste, I swear.”

He fully expects your refusal and wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. As much as this hunger is driving him to madness, he is fully prepared to slink away with his tail tucked between his legs if it means he lives to seduce you another day.

Yet the next words out of your mouth throw him off his game.

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need.”

There’s no hiding the surprise on his face. He knows you see it yet you don’t gloat or react, only smile.

“Really? I—” He clears his throat and recovers, swagger in place as comfortable as a well-worn mask molded just for him. “Of course, not one drop more. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

He motions towards your bedroll with a bow. As you brush past and turn towards the fire, your smirk is wider, as if you can tell how much excitement is building within him. Then again, with the tadpole and your uncanny ability to read people, you probably do.

The others are still silent and sleeping as you lay back on your bedroll. Astarion’s chest heaves and he licks his lips as the prospect of blood, humanoid blood, becomes all he can focus on. He’s salivating again, red eyes drawn to the smooth expanse of your neck.

At first, all he can hear is the crackling of the fire. But when he leans in, the steady beating of your heart breaks through the noises of the night. Bloody Hells, he can hear the blood rushing through your veins. It hypnotizes him, draws him forward as you roll your head to the side.

White fangs pierce dark skin, sliding clean through to find a thick, pulsing vein. Underneath the rush, he almost misses the soft gasp push past your lips.

Almost.

But he doesn’t have time to process it because the first drops of blood touch his tongue and nothing else matters. Not mind flayers, not tadpoles, not Cazador, nothing but the sweet, red liquid that is sliding down his throat carrying your scent.

Everything else before pales in comparison.

There’s no fear. When he hunts he can taste the deep fear of his prey in their final moments. But this is different. You are different.

It’s such an onslaught of emotions he can’t process them right away. It’s secondhand, like trying to grab a rapidly fading echo in a dark cave.

Astarion doesn’t anticipate it and can’t recognize half of them at first. Sensation is what he does recognize. Pain is immediate, followed by warmth leading into heat in his cheeks and stomach. So much heat. He’s been cold for two hundred years, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have body heat, to be hot.

His body naturally curls around yours, one hand sliding under your head to cradle it close. The fingers of his other hand dig into the packed soil, gripping for something solid yet finding nothing.

Your body arches into his, breasts pressed to his chest and for the briefest moment, he imagines how better this would be if he could feel your bare skin to his.

Then another splatter of blood hits the back of his throat as your heart rate increases and the thought is lost.

Instinct wins out once more and Astarion groans, sucking at the wound with renewed fervor. This is better than he could have imagined. You’re better. All robust and tantalizingly smooth, finer than the finest wine he’s ever sampled. He licks at your skin, gathering as much of the precious liquid as he can. He knows it’s supposed to be a taste, but he needs more. Wants more…

A hand on his shoulder draws him out of his stupor and a firm shove has him breaking free with an orgasmic gasp. Life now drums through his veins, yours and his comingling into a surge of energy that has his dead heart thrumming harder than he ever remembers.

“Enough,” you say, your voice gruff and small, though still commanding. He thinks for a moment you might have actually cast Command on him, until his addled brain remembers you don’t use magic.

Astarion pulls himself together, comes back into his body in a way that’s far more pleasant than it has been in the past. He’s sure he’s made a mess but when he looks down, all he sees are two small puncture wounds with the barest hint of blood. Small specks of his spit glint in the firelight.

He resists the urge to kiss them away, instead stumbling back onto his haunches to give you space.

You slowly sit up and he catches you wincing. It’s the brief flash of pain that helps him reign himself further in. You said you trusted him, let him drink from you, he will not, could not, betray that trust, the gift you’ve given him.

“Of course,” he says, voice breathless as he tries to remember how to speak. “That was amazing.” He smiles wide, feels a droplet of blood slip away from the corner of his lips as he does. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong, I feel…” The faintest hint of emotions still lingers. “…happy.”

You both sit quietly for a moment, air thick with tension and a hint of copper. Your scent is even stronger now and Astarion thinks he could track you from miles away if need be.

“I look forward to seeing you fight.”

Right, the whole reason you did this. To help him be stronger, useful. It’s those thoughts that ground him once more, snap his head out of the clouds and onto the hard forest floor.

Astarion stands while you remain right where you are, watching every move he makes. He wonders if you are waiting for him to pounce, waiting for the monster he assured you does not exist. When he speaks again, it’s the light, easy tone he’s perfected, like sliding the mask back into place.

“Shouldn’t take long so many people need killing,” he says, flippantly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating but I need something more filling.”

Nothing will escape him now. He swears he can take down a bear should he be lucky enough to find one.

He turns to leave, yet something stops him from taking the next step. When he glances at you over his shoulder, for a moment, the mask slips and he allows you to see the genuine gratitude he feels.

“This is a gift, you know,” he tells you. “I won't forget it.”

Not staying for a response, he turns away and stalks toward the darkness of the waiting forest. When he’s sure you can’t see him, he swipes that drop off his chin with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth to enjoy the final taste of your essence.

He is content for this to be a one-time thing, a special circumstance he is lucky enough to experience. And though he already longs for more, he enjoys the heat while he can, letting it carry him through the night as he hunts his next prey.

So imagine his surprise when you approach his tent only two days later, wounds barely visible under your collar. Astarion is readying his weapons, preparing for yet another trek through the wilds.

You’re in your vestiges, your arms free say for the thin bracers protecting your wrists. Your stance is sure and confident, eyes alight with something he hasn’t seen in them yet.

“We’re ready to head out,” you say. “Got everything?”

“Prepared and ready for the inevitable descent into violence.”

“How are you feeling?”

For anyone else the question wouldn’t be so loaded. He gathers you’re probably wondering if he’s going to try to steal another bite at some point.

“Fit as a fiddle. Your donation was much appreciated and helpful,” he says, sliding his daggers into their scabbards. “The effects are mostly worn off but such is life. I’m not weak if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not. But, if you need to, you can feed on me tonight.”

Astarion can barely contain himself, thrilled at the prospect of another surge of power, and that his seduction skills are working, though not entirely as he expected. Still, it’s an opportunity he will not squander.

“My sweet, there’s nothing I’d like more,” he purrs, stepping in close. He catches the darkening of your cheeks and lets himself smile in triumph. “I’ll come to you tonight, when you’re snuggly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy. And this time,” he drops his voice for added effect, “I’ll make sure I’m quiet. We don’t want to disturb your rest.”

It's not lost on him that the night after his first taste you took to sleeping in a tent rather than under the stars. The added privacy had him wondering about its purpose.

Now he knows.

Taking another step closer, he drops his voice even lower, keeping the moment between you two. “Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up,” he promises. “Just enough to give me strength and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”

Your breath catches in your throat and he knows right then that he has you. Even as you smirk and roll your eyes, his pleased smile never falters.

“Great line,” you say, walking backward towards Karlach and Shadowheart, who are waiting for the two of you. “Has that ever worked for you?”

“Numerous times. And trust me, you haven’t heard half my lines.”

“Is that what you do in front of the mirror now that you can’t fawn over yourself?”

“Hurtful!” he gasps in mock outrage. “Also, need I remind you, you came to me just now.”

“And you came to me the other night.”

“Fair point,” he begrudgingly admits, slinging his bow onto his back. “Although, I did ask for just a taste. If you’re wanting another nibble, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m a vampire spawn. What’s your excuse?”

By you’ve turned your back on him and though he can’t see your face, the middle finger you aim his way lets him know he’s won the argument.

The anticipation of his next feeding carries him through the day.

It’s ever-present in the back of his mind, fueling his hunger and drive. He fights harder because he knows that come nightfall, he won’t have to hunt for his meal. You’ll be there in your bedroll, ready and willing.

Astarion can’t suppress the shudder of longing every time he thinks about it.

Waiting never felt so long.

You’re moving closer to the goblin camp with every step, picking off stragglers as you find them. Shadowheart asks the corpses for information and you’re able to narrow down the location of the druid right down to which building he's in.

When you make camp, you’re only half a day’s travel to your destination. Everyone is exhausted and moody, with little talk this time over the campfire. It doesn’t bother Astarion, who felt you all were becoming far too chummy for his liking.

He waits and watches from his tent, taking note as one by one, the others peel off to their respective spaces. You’re one of the last, your eyes straying across the camp in his direction, meeting the gaze that has been transfixed on you the entire time.

As if to tease, your scent finds your way to him on the wind, making his head spin. He gives you a wink and a smirk. You smile back and quirk an eyebrow before disappearing into your tent like the others.

Astarion bides his time, waits until everyone stops rustling and the collective silence of sleep washes over the camp.

Wyll is on watch tonight, though his back is to your tent. Astarion keeps to the shadows and easily dodges him, making no sound as he slips past.

You’re fast asleep, buried in your bedroll with a blanket loosely draped over you.

Astarion feels that familiar tug low in his belly, lets his feet guide him closer. He doesn’t need the fire to see you there, peaceful, almost angelic. You changed into a looser tunic which has slid down to reveal a shoulder.

And the faded markings he left on your throat the other night.

Astarion kneels and then crawls up behind you, slow and careful. He said he wouldn’t disturb your rest and he meant it. No need to wake you when you’ve given your consent.

Besides, as sneaky as he is, Astarion wonders if you’re that light of a sleeper, considering how easily you awoke the last time. He lays behind you, gently peeling the blanket away. Your tunic slips lower when he does and at this angle, he catches just the faintest glimpse of the top of a breast.

It makes him pause, give an appreciative glance, before your neck beckons him.

The hunger urges him forward, begging, pleading with him to drink. You’re so close and warm and vulnerable. He does his best to lean over without touching you, but you automatically tense in your sleep when you feel the coolness of his body draw near.

Leaning down, he lets his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “It’s just me, darling. Go back to sleep.”

You hum and relax once more, dropping your shoulder in the process. The angle is too good and he is too famished to wait any longer.

Astarion bites down, his fangs lining up exactly where they pierced before. His mouth fits against your throat like it was made for him.

A perfect fit.

There’s no need to rush and he is able to savor the experience. This time, a sense of calm washes over him, making his eyes droop closed as the now-familiar yet no less exquisite rush of your blood fills his mouth. Deep down there’s a sense of injustice for being denied this experience for so long.

However, he wonders if it would have been the same without the anticipation and thrill of the chase. Without you in the equation. After all, you’re a powerful person, unyielding in your convictions.

Yet, here you are, offering your blood to him. Giving him power.

He keeps his fangs buried for a moment longer, holds himself there until his mouth is brimming with the taste of you.

Only then does he retract them, sucking softly on the reopened wound to drink his fill. You’re fast asleep, which means that he has to stop himself this time. You’re not aware enough to do it for him.

When he wanted to earn your trust, he did not think you would give it to him so freely. What else will you give him? What else can he get away with? Questions for another night.

Thankfully, he can force himself to stop once that welcoming heat spreads through every part of him.

Every part.

Fucking Hells he is hard as a rock.

It catches Astarion by surprise and he immediately draws away. He finds himself panting, his lips still coated in red as he glances down at himself.

Is it the act of drinking blood or the blood itself? Feeding on animals certainly never drew this reaction.

His head is spinning from bloodlust and arousal, and he feels the need to leave your tent as soon as possible. You signed up to be his meal, not to get him off.

Not yet anyway. Shame, if you were awake he could make his move. He briefly considers rousing you with honeyed words and lustful promises but he decides against it in the end.

Maybe next time.

As he cleans up the mess he’s left on your throat, licking away the remaining drops of blood, he can’t help palming himself at the same time. He’s barely able to contain a hiss at the sensitivity.

Fuck, if this is just from feeding on you, what’s going to happen when he gets to have you another way?

Astarion reluctantly withdraws, readjusting your tunic before draping your blanket back in place. Your breathing never hitches and remains steady, even when he slips out into the night.

With fresh blood pumping through his veins, his body is strong and alive. He feels so fucking alive. He barely takes a few steps before the hardness in his trousers proves too distracting, forcing him to rest against a tree.

If he turns his head, he can still see your tent through the bushes and trees. It surprises him that he wants to go back. Then again, you are the most interesting prospect around and a part of you is within him now.

Soon, a part of him will be in you, he promises himself.

Astarion unties the laces of his trousers and pulls his cock out, finally allowing the hiss he held back earlier. It throbs persistently, begging for him to do something, anything for release. He gives himself an experimental squeeze, wondering if he has the mind for this right now. But it’s too good and he’s too worked up to deny himself.

His eyes never leave your tent as he strokes his cock. Slow at first, but that quickly proves not enough and he speeds up.

Astarion has had too many lovers to count but it has been some time since he’s had to take matters into his own hands. And yes, he plans on seducing you and may even find you attractive, but this is not in the plan.

It certainly didn’t happen the other night.

Moving purely on urges, Astarion lets his head fall back against the tree trunk, and his eyes close, picturing himself back in your tent.

If only you’d been awake, he could have pressed against you, let you feel the length of him as he drank his fill.

Would you grind back? Would you gasp? He’s more than sure that he can get you to do both. When he finally gets you where he wants you, when he finally has you writhing and moaning his name, he's not going to let you cum until you beg for it, beg for him to fill you as he drinks from that delicious throat.

With a strangled moan, he cums onto the forest floor, his knees buckling under the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Putting his full weight against the tree for support, he takes a moment to catch his breath mind, and senses hyper-aware of every rustle of leaves and gust of wind. With his lust now stated, there is an overwhelming sense of fear and guilt.

What the Hells is with all this wanting and desire? He is not allowed to want. Seducing you isn’t about desire. Neither of those emotions should be there and yet they are.

Let’s just push those way back where they belong, he thinks as he tucks himself back into his trousers.

His head is clearer now, his focus as sharp as it was the previous night. Brushing the incident off, Astarion switches into hunting mode, his grin wide enough to verge on the side of madness as he bolts into the forest, with nothing but the thought of his next kill.

Your offer of blood becomes a regular occurrence.

Not every day but often enough for Astarion to notice a significant change in himself, his power. He is faster and stronger than he has ever been. There is still the situation of becoming immensely horny when he does feed on you, but he looks on the bright side and accepts it as an unexpected bonus.

On days when your party runs into a fight, he finds himself drained but not enough to impede his hunting.

A fact he brags about one night when he stumbles back to camp, brimming with excitement and pride.

“Guess what I just did!” he exclaims, plopping beside you on the ground by the fire that seems to have your attention.

It’s your night to keep watch which means he is out of luck for his midnight snack, as he’s taken to calling you. Much to your chagrin.

You chuckle and motion towards his mouth. “Judging by the blood I’m assuming you caught a nice dinner,” you say.

Astarion impatiently wipes it away. “Not just dinner, a bear! A whole bear!”

“Gods, you drank a whole bear?”

He nods proudly, grin wide and sloppy. “Now, it wasn’t as good a vintage as Drow,” he concedes with a wink your way. “But that’s not the point. The point is, I was able to kill it all by my lonesome and nary a curl out of place.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kind of,” he slurs.

In truth, he is euphoric, untouchable. Between proper feedings and the tadpole, Astarion feels he is the strongest vampire spawn there may have ever been. Tonight, like the first night he bit you, there is no Cazador, mind flayer, or other threat. There’s only him and the blood of the black bear that he’s taken for himself.

And you, of course.

You smile in amusement, turning your attention to the fire.

Astarion leans back on his elbows, his body wonderfully loose and relaxed for the first time in decades. He takes the time to study your profile, his delirious mind focusing for the moment. He is acutely aware that it is only the two of you, a rarity considering the size of the camp.

Between the adrenaline of the hunt and the opportunity that comes with privacy, Astarion shifts closer, not enough to touch but enough for you to know he’s done so.

“You know, darling,” he drawls. “I don’t think I’ve told you how devastatingly beautiful you look by firelight.”

You don’t respond and at first, he wonders if you heard him. When it becomes apparent you haven’t, he clears his throat and tries again.

“The way the flames reflect in your eyes is hypnotizing,” he continues. “I can get lost in them, have been lost in them ever since we met.”

Still nothing. Astarion feels you’re miles away, which his pride will not stand for, not when he feels as good as he does and is throwing you all the signals.

He sits up and waves a hand in front of your face. “Helllooo? Devilishly handsome roguish vampire here giving you compliments. The least you can do is acknowledge me.”

You blink and tear your eyes away from the flames, giving him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m not very good company tonight, I’m afraid.”

Astarion shrugs and sits up, interest piqued. “That’s alright, darling. We don’t need to talk. There are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other’s company.”

You roll your eyes as you look back at the fire with that amused smile you seem to reserve only for him. “Hey, if I could turn my brain off for the night, I’d take you up on that,” you admit.

Finally feeling like he’s getting somewhere, Astarion leans in closer. “You’re in luck because I happen to be a delectable distraction. All you have to do is say the word.” He pauses before adding. “I’m talking about sex of course. We should have sex.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what you meant.”

Astarion grins, reaching out to walk his fingers up your forearm, playfully tugging at the sleeve of your tunic. “So what are we waiting for?” he purrs. “A midnight snack is all well and good, but I wouldn’t mind sampling what else you have to offer.”

As full as he is, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in another nibble. There’s something special about your blood, enticing. When he’s this close to you it becomes all he can think about and he has to stop himself from nuzzling your throat. At least until he knows he has you.

“I want to,” you tell him, finally meeting his gaze. “I really really want to.”

“Then what’s the problem? I am ready, willing, and certainly able.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Astarion frowns, confused. This has always worked before, there’s no reason for it not to work now. He doesn’t get it. You’re clearly attracted to him and he’s doing everything but presenting himself on a silver platter. By now you should be throwing yourself at his feet.

And there’s no way he’s lost his touch because that would be like saying the sky is no longer blue.

You take a deep breath and when you start to speak again, it comes out in a rush, like you’ve been holding the words in for far too long and can’t any longer.

“There is so much at stake and so many people are depending on us, on me. It’s all I think about. I can’t focus on anything else. For days it’s been one crisis after another. On top of that, everyone keeps saying that we need to get rid of the tadpoles and that we should have turned already. We rescued Halsin but he can’t do what we hoped he would and I’m just…”

You let out a noise of frustration and Astarion is back to grinning because this he can work with. This he understands.

“Aren’t monks taught to still their minds?” he teases.

“I didn’t become a monk to still my mind. I became a monk because I like punching things. It’s honestly my favorite thing to do.” You take a deep breath before falling onto your back to stare up at the stars. “But now everyone keeps looking to me for answers and I just don’t have them. Nor do I want to be the one to figure all this shit out.”

Perfect, a new angle.

Astarion leans over you, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It’s just as I feared. You need me more than I thought.” He bends his head, delighted when you instinctively present your neck. He places the gentlest of kisses to bite mark, nuzzling into your soft skin like he’s been wanting to do since he sat down. “If you need your mind on something else, let it be me. Let me touch you, taste you. Let me bring you to such unbearable peaks that you forget everything that isn’t my mouth, fingers, or cock.”

You moan softly, shuddering at the warmth of his breath. “I don’t know if you can.”

Astarion draws back, a wide smile showing off his sharp canines. “Trust me, darling, I can.” He slides a hand up to cradle your head just like he did the first night he bit you. But it’s kisses he lavishes your throat with, with the occasional scrape of his teeth.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him pulling away.

“You seem pretty confident about that,” you say, eyes searching his.

“Because it’s true.”

He knows what you’re searching for and does everything he can to make sure his gaze speaks for him. Lust and desire, mixed with a touch of hopefulness. Disarming and endearing, exactly who he needs to be for you.

“Here is what we’re going to do,” he continues, putting all his weight on one hand so he can use the other to take yours. “Tomorrow night, once everyone is asleep, I’ll slip into your tent, and I will make it so that pretty little head of yours can focus on something else. Something much more pleasurable.”

He punctuates each word with a kiss, first to your fingers, then your bruised knuckles, and finally to your inner wrist where he can feel your pulse racing. The sound of your rushing blood makes his own body thrum with desire. His hunger returns, but not enough to distract him.

But enough to make him twitch with anticipation.

At this angle, he knows you can feel it when his cock hardens. Your eyes widen and you bite your lip to stifle another moan when he teasingly grinds down against you.

“I…” You try to speak but need to take a second to catch your breath. “I would like that very much.”

“Good.”

Astarion leans down and captures your lips in a harsh kiss. It’s meant to be quick, a tease, a way to continue the seduction and leave you wanting more but it immediately becomes something else. You match his energy perfectly, your tongue slipping past his to explore. He isn’t expecting such a hungry response after the way you seemed so controlled, fully expecting it to take time for him to get you to this level.

Apparently, you’re closer to the edge than he thought. But it’s more than that. Kissing you makes him feel…something. He just doesn’t know what in the Hells that is. It makes it difficult to pull away, to stop, and make you wait.

So he indulges, deepens the kiss by leisurely licking the inside of your mouth once you actually let him. It’s good, really good. Enough to lose himself for the moment, to cup your cheek and hold you close.

His head is spinning and in his excitement, one of his fangs nicks your bottom lip.

A drop of your blood is enough to snap him out of it. Because if he doesn’t, he’s going to ruin everything. He’ll either fuck or drain you and right now he’s not sure which.

Astarion abruptly breaks the kiss, not before his tongue at your lip to steal another drop. “Until tomorrow night,” he promises.

He leaves you there, dazed and staring after him as he casually strolls back to his tent. Leaving you wanting more, just like he planned.

And definitely not because of any other reason.

Needless to say, trancing doesn’t come easy that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he envisions is you in the firelight, looking up at him like he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Granted, he knows he is, but that’s beside the point.

If he’s honest with himself, there may be a small, tiny part of him that feels bad for deceiving you this way. Granted, he is attracted to you and the idea of having sex sounds incredibly appealing.

So what if there is another motive? You both will come out on top in the end, metaphorically speaking. Although, the mental image of you riding him is quite good. Body rocking, breasts bouncing, wet heat enveloping his lap…

Astarion needs a distraction himself at this rate.

The next day he maintains his distance for both your sakes. For one thing, he knows being apart from your object of desire only makes the chase that more thrilling. And for another, he is dealing with a storm of emotions he is not prepared for nor interested in.

On occasion when he can’t help but slide his gaze your way, you seem thoroughly focused every time. He doesn’t catch you looking longingly his way, not even once, and finds it frankly insulting. How can you be so engrossed in what you’re doing even though you know he will be in your bed later?

Unacceptable.

When you both find yourselves set upon by cultists, Astarion is relieved. He needs a good bloodbath to pull his shit together.

His daggers get quite the workout, slicing enemies left and right.

Lost in the thrill of the kill, he forgets about the weird feelings and the way his seduction of you seems to be more complicated than he thought it would be. He forgets about his hesitations or questions.

Nothing is weird and nothing is wrong.

A familiar scent breaks through the gore that stops him in his tracks. Your scent. Your blood.

You’re bleeding.

Like a hound, his head whips in your direction. He sees you across the battlefield, knocking a man to the ground. But one hand is pressed to your side, bright red visible even at this distance.

Shit, you’re further from him than he realizes and he has to scramble over a few boulders to be able to close the distance. His sharp eyes catch movement in the trees, and before he even has a chance to grab his bow, the hidden archer takes aim.

Everything happens so fast.

The arrow fires, Astarion eyes land on you, knows you don’t see it and as he raises his hand towards you, has your name on his lips—

Your hand snaps up, catching the arrow an inch before it hits your temple. With a glare, you look up at the archer, swing around, and throw the arrow right back at him.

Astarion watches the archer fall from the branches, landing in a heap on the ground.

Dead.

You grin in Astarion’s direction, face smattered with blood and he wants nothing more than to fuck you on top of that corpse. But then you stumble and concern takes over. If you fall in battle then he’s shit out of luck and he can’t let that happen.

“Whoa now, none of that!” he scolds, rushing to your side to catch you. “Where the Hells is that cleric when we need her?”

“Did you see me catch that arrow?” you slur, grinning. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Yes, yes, it was very hot, now hold still, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Even better, gives you a free meal.”

It’s Astarion’s turn to roll his eyes as he helps you lean against a tree for support. “I prefer the more intimate approach we’ve established.”

Once he’s sure you’re not going to collapse, he digs through his pack for a healing potion.

“Shame to let all this blood go to waste but to each his own,” you say.

He uncorks the potion with his teeth and holds the bottle up for you to drink. It’s not until it’s empty that he allows himself to calm down. You slowly remove your hand and the two of you watch the wound start to close. Not all the way, you’ll need Shadowheart for that, but enough to stop the bleeding.

Astarion spits the cork aside and throws the empty bottle. “There, almost good as new. Maybe don’t get stabbed again.”

“There go the rest of my plans for the day.”

“Lunatic.”

Something comes over him, making him grab the back of your head and yank you into a kiss, too wrapped up in his bullshit to overthink or consider his actions. With one arm around his waist, you kiss him back and it’s sloppy and messy and everything he needs it to be.

Nothing happened. You didn’t die and you’re still able to be seduced. Good.

When you draw back, gasping for breath, he grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, one by one, swirling his tongue around the digits to gather every drop of blood he can. You’re right. It seems silly to let it go to waste.

Your pupils dilate, your breath coming through your lips in a rush as you watch, transfixed.

He doesn’t need the tadpole to know what you’re thinking, or imagining. It’s a precursor to what he plans to do to you later. But with your thighs squeezing his head as he brings you over the edge.

Astarion releases your finger with a pop and a smirk. You lean in to steal another kiss when you’re stopped by the heavy thud of Karlach’s footsteps. You just manage to pull back when she bursts through the foliage.

“You guys alright?” she asks, also splattered with blood. “We just got jumped by some assholes.”

Astarion gestures to the bodies littered at your feet. “Welcome to the fucking club.”

“Where’s Shadowheart?” you ask.

“Right here,” Shadowheart speaks up, approaching from a different direction. “One tried to run away but I took care of it. Shit, are you bleeding?”

“Not anymore, thanks to me,” Astarion says.

When you wince and stumble towards her, Shadowheart catches you. Her hand glows with radiant light as she casts a healing spell.

“Easy there, soldier!” Karlach says. “You stay put. We’ll deal with these.” She gestures to the bodies, where Astarion is already digging through the pockets.

He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to let good gold go to waste, and definitely not because you two were interrupted. Not because being close and alone with you makes his head spin. Not because he doesn’t know why he kissed you like that. And certainly not because the brief taste of blood is threatening to send him into a frenzy.

By the time the bodies are searched, Shadowheart is done with her healing and you’re able to stand up straight.

“Let’s get back and tell the others,” you say. “With these guys gone, we should be good to keep our camp for one more night. But tomorrow we have to move on.”

Astarion is starting to feel peckish and welcomes the chance to be alone. “I’ll do a little scouting to check for stragglers,” he offers, tossing you the heavy bag of coin he collected. “You know, make sure there isn’t anything lurking before dark.”

“You sure? You really shouldn’t go alone,” you say.

He’s already headed in the opposite direction and turns to face you as he walks backward. “If they hear me, they deserve to catch me. You don’t need to worry, darling. I won’t be late for our date.”

Your cheeks darken and he watches Karlach break into a wide grin while Shadowheart raises her eyebrows. He’s already gone by the time they bombard you with questions.

That moment you two just shared plays over and over in his head. With the taste of your blood still on his tongue, he gives into baser instincts.

Tonight, he will fuck you, and you’ll be so enthralled by his talents, he’ll have you eating out of his hand in no time.

Astarion’s mission turns up no more cultists. And after a brief tussle with a boar, he’s recharged and ready to seduce the pants off you.

Literally.

Night has already begun to fall when he returns to camp. At first, he doesn’t see you anywhere, but then you emerge from the brush, in a clean tunic and trousers with your freshly washed clothes under your arm.

He sneaks up behind you as you lay them out on a nearby patch of grass to dry.

“If you waited we could have had a little dip together,” he purrs, only half teasing because bathing naked with you sounds enticing right now.

“That wasn’t funny,” you glare over your shoulder, although he doesn’t sense or see any real malice on your face. “They gave me shit the whole way back.”

“I’m fairly certain they knew something has been going on. You haven’t exactly been hiding the mark.”

You tug on your collar in a vain attempt to do just that. “Still.” You turn to face him and cross your arms, a neutral stance that conveniently highlights the muscles in your arms. Not that he notices.

“Darling,” he gasps, “are you ashamed of me?”

“Of course not. I just don’t like people knowing my shit.”

Astarion glances around and can see multiple pairs of eyes on you both. So rather than close the distance, he settles for eye-fucking you instead.

“Tonight, all you need to worry about is relaxing and letting me take care of you. Thoroughly. Properly. Until the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is my name.”

Even from this distance, he hears the rush of your blood and it makes him grin wider. You shake said pretty head at him, turning away under the pretense of fixing your clothes.

“So long as you bathe beforehand. Blood may be your thing, but it’s not mine.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

He’s got you flustered and can’t help laughing as you shoo him away. After a brief stop at his tent for fresh clothes and soap, he finds a secluded spot by the nearby lake and takes time to pamper himself.

This part of the seduction ritual he likes, finds comfort in. Washing away the grime and viscera from his skin and taking the time to wash his hair puts him in the proper mindset. While he can no longer see his reflection, you can and that’s all that matters. He knows his looks are unparalleled.

So he primps and preens, cleans himself thoroughly before stepping out to dry off. The full moon casts the world in an otherworldly glow and he stands for a spell, taking in the night. Less than a week ago he was scrambling for rats in the dark, trying to sate the ever gnawing hunger. Now he can stand in the sun, sample the delicious blood of a thinking creature.

What a difference a few days makes.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep inhale to steady himself, to focus. And by the time he exhales, his eyes are open and he’s ready.

Camp is still very much buzzing with activity when he returns, bare-chested with loose trousers. Your scent wafts his way, making him subconsciously turn in your direction. His eyes meet yours over the fire, and he throws you a wink. You smile and duck your head, something he never found endearing until that moment.

Just like all the other nights, he waits for the activity to die down, waits until almost everyone is asleep, before sneaking into your tent.

Except, this time you’re awake. Your back is to him as you sit, still and silent. At first, he wonders what you’re doing, until he recognizes the steady breathing that comes with your meditations.

Silently, he ties the tent closed before kneeling behind you. He sees your pointed ear twitch, knows you’re aware of his presence.

Astarion lays his hands on your shoulders and leans down to nuzzle your temple. Your body is tense. He can feel the knots even through your tunic. Carefully, he digs his thumbs into them, rubbing in circles which forces a soft moan out of you.

“You are far too tense, darling. I don’t think the meditations are working,” he says with a low chuckle, smirking at the way the skin of your neck raises with goosebumps.

You lean back against his chest, making it harder to keep massaging you. So he slides his hands down your arms to hold you instead.

Astarion isn’t one for hugging or cuddling, but this feels nice, having your weight on him like this. It only lasts a second. You lean forward once more, this time with your face in your hands. He lays a hand on your back, recognizing that you need a minute, and more than happy to give you such.

He feels slightly out of his element. Normally when he arrives for the seduction, it’s hasty and eager, with the mark throwing themselves at him. You aren’t doing that, you haven’t even turned around to face him.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you tell him, your voice muffled. “If you’re looking for something carefree and light, I’m sure you can find someone with less baggage.”

Astarion can’t help bursting into laughter. He pulls your arms down and leans around to look you in the eye. “Have we been traveling with the same companions?” he asks. “If you can find this mythical baggage-less person then I salute you because from where I’m sitting, we’re all a bunch of fucking weirdos.”

That breaks the tension in you. Laughing, you lean into him again and he savors the closeness, recognizing that it stirs that same unknown sensation within him. He kisses your neck not only to move things along but for another reason.

Yours is the first thinking-creature’s neck he’s ever sampled and the novelty is fairly potent. He’s left his mark on you, not once but several times. It’s enough to drive him to distraction. The scent of your skin causes his body to react, his mouth already salivating while his cock twitches with interest.

Astarion finds you relaxing while the time slips away, and it isn’t long before his hands are reaching for the laces of your tunic. He unties them with deliberate slowness, giving you every chance to stop him.

You don’t.

In fact, your hands join his to help, and when they are finally undone, you draw away to lift the tunic over your head.

Now you’re both shirtless and when your warm skin touches his it’s like a pleasant balm to his cold flesh. He continues lavishing your throat while his hands cup your breasts, thrilled at the way your nipples pebble under his thumbs. He kneads and tweaks, pinching until just on the edge of pain before backing off.

“Astarion?” you ask, voice already breathless and husky with desire.

“Mmm, yes?”

“If we do this, I only have one request.”

He’s not surprised at this, even anticipated as such. There’s always a request or demand of him and he will dutifully oblige. Anything to keep this going, to seal the deal.

“And what’s that, darling?”

“Stay with me after? At least, just for the night.”

That…is it?

Astarion draws away, prompting you to turn to face him. Your eyes are hooded, lips wet from being swiped by your tongue. But there is a vulnerability he has never seen before that has him answering immediately.

“I will stay,” he promises, and means it. “For tonight, I am yours and you are mine. Nothing else outside this tent exists. It’s just us.” He gently cradles your face. “Just this.”

You lean in and he captures your lips.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, meant to reassure you that your humble request will be fulfilled. But as it continues, it switches, changes into something else entirely. One of his hands drops to your trousers, yanking at the laces with the same fevered energy that’s taken over your mouths. He is suddenly filled with the urge to touch, to make you shudder and moan not for his sake, but for yours.

Astarion sees in his mind’s eye every choice, every decision you have had to make. Always for others and never for yourself. Hells, do you do anything for your own well-being?

He hasn’t seen it. And if this night with him is it, if being with him is how you want to indulge, he’s going to make damn sure he makes it worth it.

When his hand slips below your waistline, his fingers slide through the mound of curls to the petal-soft flesh waiting for him. Feeling the wetness on his fingertips makes his eyebrow raise as he breaks from your kisses.

“Already, darling? I’m flattered.”

You huff, flustered. “It’s my neck,” you mumble, prompting him to latch his mouth there once more. “It’s really sensitive.”

You gasp when his fingertips stroke through your folds, spreading your arousal with practiced ease.

Astarion has a realization. “All these nights, when you knew I was going to be paying you a visit,” he says. “Did you by any chance feel aroused?”

“Every fucking time.”

He slides a finger into you, relishing the low moan and how eagerly your body pulls him in. That explains the intense hard-ons and need to get off immediately after feeding on you. He was unknowingly drinking your arousal, which he plans to do in a very different context tonight.

You’re warm and wet, and the sound of your rushing blood is making it so difficult not to seek his—your marks. The ones he feeds from every time, the ones that never seem to fully fade even with healing magic.

Sliding his finger out, he presses firm circles around your neglected nub while his free hand reaches for your breasts again. Your chest heaves and your hips begin to rise and fall along with his ministrations. When he pushes two fingers into you, your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Astarion!” you gasp.

“That’s it, darling. Let go of everything else. Just think about me.”

In this intimate moment, he becomes acutely aware of two things: one, his name has never sounded sweeter, and two, this is going to be different for him.

Astarion doesn’t find himself slipping away like he’s done in the past. Prior, his body would go on following the script while his brain retreated elsewhere. It was a part he knew all too well and had perfected over the centuries. A moment of disgust at himself then powering through just to get it done.

Yet, it’s not happening. Tonight, he is very aware of where he is and who he is with. Somehow having you be the one to moan his name is keeping him grounded, in the moment.

And he doesn’t want to lose that.

His fingers speed up, alternating between rubbing your nub and burrowing deep into that addictive warmth he wants around his cock. You’re gasping and moaning, seemingly uncaring if anyone hears.

Let them hear, he thinks. Let them know I’m the one making our fearless leader cum.

Suddenly, this angle isn’t right. It won’t serve his needs.

Because now that he’s aware of them, aware that he needs your body, needs your little gasps and moans, he won’t stop until you’re both in a breathless, mindless heap of body and limbs.

Astarion tries to draw his hand out of your trousers but you scramble to keep it there, until he nips at your ear and says, “Shh, shh, it’s alright. We just need to get a little comfortable.” Only then do you let him pull away.

He maneuvers you onto your back and is able to fully take in the delicious image you make. Eyes glassy with desire, lips parted, breasts moving as you try to catch your breath. Without warning, he grabs your throat, not hard. Just enough to angle your head up so he can steal a few more kisses.

Then his attention falls to your trousers and he has them off your legs a second later. You’re not wearing underwear, never bothered to put them on after your bath. Hooking his hands under your knees, he spreads you wide, takes his first look at all of you, and promptly descends.

Astarion doesn’t try to put on a show or warm you up with a few practiced licks. You are more than ready for him and he finds himself starved in a completely different way.

A welcomed way.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks greedily, humming with satisfaction when your thighs clamp around his head. It keeps him exactly where you want him, not that he plans to leave any time soon.

This taste of you is so different from your blood yet equally addicting. Heady and sweet, invading his senses until nothing else exists but you. His tongue snakes long your seam, parts your swollen lips, and seeks the hole he teased earlier.

When he finds it, your hips shoot up and he tongue-fucks you, eyes drifting up to meet yours as he does.

You’re propped on your elbows, watching his every move. The vision you make is breathtaking and as he watches your head fall back and your arms buckle, he smirks because he is the one making you feel this way.

Astarion slides a finger into you, this time deeper than the other angle allowed. Your thighs are already quivering and the moment he crooks his finger in just the right way, your arms finally give out and you lay flat on your back.

Hands tentatively find their way into his curls but instead of pulling like he anticipates, they stroke and burrow, holding on for the sake of staying grounded, not for control.

A second finger joins the first and his mouth returns to your aching nub, sucking as greedily as he wants. You’re shaking and moaning, your hips starting to grind against his face the longer he goes on. With the tadpole, he can sense you’re still holding back, still not entirely lost yet. He tries to get you there, increases the pressure of his mouth, and rubs harder against the special place inside you he’s found.

With every twitch, he feels you let go a little more. And when you’re almost there, he switches tactics. For the second time, he reaches for your mind, tries to show you images. This time of yourself, of what he is seeing right then and there.

A beautiful, wanton, deity of a person whom he worships. At least for right now, in this moment. One whose legs fit perfectly over his shoulders and whose shining eyes have him transfixed.

But then what happens next fundamentally changes Astarion and turns his world upside down.

Because, now he isn’t seeing you. He is watching a pale elf with glowing red eyes whose mouth is devouring your slit. Whose cheeks are ruddy with fresh boar’s blood and whose white curls are wrapped around dark fingers.

Astarion is seeing himself for the first time in two hundred years.

And bloody hell he’s magnificent. Not just because he’s beautiful but because he can feel what you’re feeling when you look at him. He can sense the warmth, affection, lust, and fierce protection you’re experiencing here and now, with him.

He’s already achieved his goal. Now he can move on to more important things.

He draws an orgasm out of you only minutes later, not needing you to beg. Not when you’ve given him yet another precious gift.

What a breathtaking sight the two of you make. You, bowing your back into a beautiful arch, and him, sucking greedily at your clit while his fingers stroke deep inside you.

Astarion comes up for air only when your sweaty legs glide off his shoulders, leaving you spread and satisfied.

“How’s that mind of yours now?” he asks, licking your slick off his lips.

It takes a moment for you to answer. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding,” you gasp, a hand pressed to your forehead as you try to collect yourself.

Astarion smirks and pushes himself up onto his knees, carefully slipping his fingers out of you. He can feel your walls clench, automatically trying to keep him there. He’s tempted but has a better idea.

“I told you, I’m quite good.”

While you lay there, watching, waiting, he makes a show of unlacing his trousers. By now his cock is desperate for attention, straining against the fabric. Each move he makes is purposeful, each look calculated, letting you know exactly what he plans to do next.

He thinks of the previous nights when he crawled into your tent and slid up behind you. And once his trousers are gone and his cock is free, full and leaking at the tip, he nods his head.

“Turn on your side, darling.”

He strokes himself while you do, using your arousal to make the glide of his hand easier, better. He lets every lustful thought invade his senses, lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body as he realizes this is a fantasy he will get to live out.

Astarion knows this night is about you, should be about you, but he can’t help but feel that it’s now also about him. About having something, even if it’s for a night, that gets to be his.

He spoons up behind you, tucking his cock snug under your backside. His hand comes around and slides between your legs once more, picking up right where he left off. You gasp at the sensitivity, your body tensing for only a second until you manage to relax again.

This time with the added bonus of you rocking against him.

Time loses all meaning. He can not be certain how long you both lay this way, grinding and moving together while his fingers make you cum for a second time. It takes longer but absolutely worth every moment. His mouth is permanently attached to your throat lavishing it in kisses and love bites, leaving even more marks. Not as deep as the mark. He'll only drink from you once he’s good and ready.

And when neither of you can take it anymore, when the friction of your skin isn’t enough and you’re positively soaked, he whispers into your ear.

“Lift your leg.”

You do and he takes hold of himself, coats himself in your slick again, then pushes into you with a smooth, quick, thrust.

A perfect fit.

Being inside you, having his cock enveloped by that fucking heat is better than he would have ever thought. After that, he can’t take his time, won’t until he’s emptied every last drop into you.

Your moans are constant, muffled as you bury your face into your thin pillow, your hand twisting the bedroll, reminding him of how he twisted the soil when he had his first taste of you.

Taste.

Gods does he want to taste you again, drink you as he continues pounding into your eager body. As if struck by the same thought, you reach back to slide your hand into his curls.

“Bite me,” you urge. “I need you too. I can’t…”

He hears the rest of the thought in his head.

I can’t cum again if you don’t.

Astarion bites down on the mark, having half a mind to press down on your swollen nub at the same time. You cry out this time. Loudly. Properly. Not his name yet even more beautiful, a cry of pure ecstasy.

Your blood seeps into his mouth just as a fresh wave of your slick coats his cock, and he is done for.

Thrusting wildly, still rubbing your sore clit, Astarion spills himself into you, lost in a frenzy of blood and lust. He’s aware enough to yank out his fangs but after that, it's a blur as he sucks at your throat while his cock spasms and fills you with his seed.

It's too much and coats his lap and your thighs while trickles of blood dribble down your neck. He’s aware of you pushing his hand away from the overstimulation. So he grabs your hip for leverage during his final, weak thrusts. Spent, you both cry out a final time and then grow still.

Eventually, you roll onto your stomach while Astarion collapses onto your back, crushing you against the bedroll.

You don’t seem to mind in the slightest, letting him lazily lick away any remnants of blood. Only then do you hum with satisfaction stretching underneath him as much as the position will allow.

“Fuck, Astarion.”

“That you did, love. That. You. Did.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss or a nibble.

“You were right,” you purr, sounding infinitely more relaxed than he’s ever heard. “I needed that.”

He places a final kiss to the mark before rolling onto his back. “Mmm, me too.” He tucks his hand under his head, staring up at the canvas of the tent with a lazy, satisfied grin. Like a cat who’s just found a sunbeam.

You roll to face him, draping yourself across his chest in a graceless heap. Your face is glowing with post-coital bliss, eyes still shining as they take him in. You reach up to wipe away a spot of blood from the corner of his lips, which he sucks off your thumb.

Astarion is aware you both should clean up but he can’t bring it in himself to care. Your scent hangs around him, not just your blood but your arousal and release. When mixed with his own, it stirs something primal inside, a sense of claim he’s not sure he has a right to feel.

But he’s far too satisfied to question it.

“That was amazing,” you slur. Already your eyes are drooping and your breathing evens out.

Astarion draws you close, feels around for a blanket he manages to drape over you both. “You’re amazing,” he responds, and is surprised he means it.

Even he is ready to trance, the normal rush of adrenaline after feeding is gone, channeled into the thrusting of his hips during those last precious seconds before utter bliss.

For once, no thoughts or machinations enter his mind. Unless it’s your soft body atop his, he has no interest, lazily stroking your back until you fall asleep.

And as he lets his trance carry him away, he has one final thought, an observation his waking mind will remember vividly the next morning when he finds you in the same position, curled around each other even in sleep.

Having you in his arms seems to be another perfect fit.

---

Taglist: @frankie-mercury @miniminx

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion ancunin x you

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tunafruitt · 3 months

Text

--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞

SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3

[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]

Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO

-> [ DOTTORE ]

“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”

The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.

Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.

No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)

When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3

In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.

─ִ━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─

You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.

You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.

You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???

And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.

“I can hear you, Y/N.”

“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”

“Good morning.”

“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”

“Are you asking because I have a choice?”

Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—

“Doctor, the segments have finished—“

“Oh.”

-> [ XIAO ]

“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”

So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)

Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)

Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)

The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..

…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!

─ִ━━ ꯭ ───ׂ─ִ─ ͜͡✿͜͡ ─ִ──ׂ── ꯭ ━━ִ─

“Xiao! I found you.”

As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.

“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”

“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”

You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”

“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”

“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”

“… Y-Y/N..”

“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”

FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin xiao #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #dottore #genshin harbingers #genshin #gender neutral reader #yayyy #tunafruitt #xiao x reader #dottore x reader #genshin sagau

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darkbluekies · 9 months

Note

What would Edmund do with a Jester! Reader? *COUGH* asking for a friend 👀

Dance, my puppet

platonic!Yandere!king OC x jester!male!reader

Summary: being the spoiled king's personal jester puts a lot of pressure on your shoulders ... but what happens when he overworks you to the point of needing rest?

Warnings: unreasonable Edmund, choking, kidnapping, objectifying reader, mentions of killing

Word count: 2k

You hate how he looks at you. The way his icy blue eyes stare right through you as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat. You should be used to it, shouldn’t you? You’ve performed for him more times that you can count, but it never sits right with you. Every time he’s in need of entertainment, you’re brought out to embarrass yourself.

This time when you go to the dressing room reserved for you, you can hear the door open behind you. You turn around … and there he is.

“What do you want?” you ask and quickly add: “your majesty.”

“I want you to be the royal jester”, king Edmund says simply, cutting straight to the point. “I want you to perform for me only.”

“I wish I could, your majesty, but I have more clients I’ve already booked.”

He takes a step forward.

“So cancel them”, he says.

“I can’t”, you tell him. “They’ve scheduled months in advance, I can’t just … cancel. They’re high class families, if I cancel them, they’ll give me a bad reputation.”

“I don’t care. Cancel them. You’re going to be the court jester from now on.”

“Your majesty-”

“If you don’t accept the offer, I will force you to. You’ll be my personal jester whether you like it or not, so choosing the preferred way is entirely up to you, sir.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. There’s always been an eerie feeling after you’ve been performing for him. You’ve felt … dissected — like a frog or a fish. You only perform for him because you have to, he’s the king after all, but you don’t want to make it into a habit.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me?” king Edmund scoffs. “You have a lot of nerve.”

“And a lot of stress, your majesty”, you mutter. “I’m honored that you want to have me as your jester, but-”

You don’t have time to finish the sentence before you feel his hand wrap around your throat. It shuts you up in an instant, and brings you at his mercy.

“As I said”, kind Edmund says lowly. “I do not care about your other clients. I’m your king and you shall obey me, is that clear?”

You nod quickly. Even if he wasn’t squeezing his hand around your throat until you saw dancing dots, you’d not dare try your voice — unsure if it was going to hold.

“You will cancel every, single event”, king Edmund tells you warningly. “Otherwise I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”

You nod again. Your blood has gone icy and soon your vision has gone black. Edmund lets you go and you draw in a deep breath while stumbling backwards. You grab a hold of the drawer and give him a wide eyed look. Edmund walks over and pets your hair.

“I’ll see you back here tomorrow”, he says and leaves.

The second the doors close, you gulp. What are you going to do?

From day that onwards, you perform for him every. single. day. If you come late, repeat jokes or show the slightest disinterest, you get a taste of the rat infected dungeons. You want to rip your hair out from the stress of coming up with new jokes, new acts, new songs. You’ve gotten a room a the castle and while you’re not performing, they lock you in and tell you to come up with something new for the next day. You’re not burned out, you’re run over, thrown in a ditch and left to rot.

“He looks weird today”, the king mutters as you start your act.

You can barely hear what he’s saying. There’s a wall between you and him. Your limbs are heavy and hard to move, your voice comes out in a sluggish mumble. The world around you shrinks along with your vision and before you know it, you’ve hit your head on the marble floor. Edmund stands up and signals for a guard to pick you up.

“What’s wrong with him?” Edmund asks. “Why is my puppet not up and running?”

“Your majesty, I think he fainted”, the guard who holds you says. He touches your forehead. “I think he has a fever.”

“A fever? How can that happen?”

“I’m not sure. I think we need to get the doctor.”

“Go put him to bed.”

Edmund follows the guard to your room and watches how you get tucked in. The guard runs to fetch the royal doctor. Edmund stays … and watches you. He removes your jester hat and places it on the nightstand. The bells on it rings, mocking him. He stares at you.

The doctor arrives and examines you thoroughly.

“He’s overworked, your majesty”, he says and sighs. “He needs to rest. No performances for at least two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!” king Edmund bursts out. “I can’t go two weeks!”

“We can hire another jester”, the guard suggests. “Until Y/N is well again.”

“I don’t want another jester!”

“I know, your majesty, but for now there’s not much we can do”, the doctor says.

Edmund runs his hand through his dark hair and looks at you.

“Give him something!” he demands. “Some medicine, some elixir, I don’t care! He needs to be working as soon as possible!”

“And that ‘as soon as possible’ is in minimum two weeks, your majesty”, the doctor reminds him.

Edmund grabs the jester hat and throws it against the wall.

“Fine”, he says and turns to the guard. “Get another jester. They better be half as good as Y/N or else I will kill them, do you understand that?!”

Edmund has time to kill three jesters before you have the energy to leave the bed. The king runs to your room and slams the door open.

“You can stand!” he says in satisfaction. “Therefore, you can perform for me!”

“Your majesty … I can’t”, you say weakly and sit down on the side of your bed. “I feel horrible.”

“But … you’re a jester … you should be able to crack jokes … and sing. That’s your whole thing.”

“Your majesty, have you ever felt tired of your royal studies? Your teachers force you to do more and more homework when you feel like you’re going to fall asleep?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“If I could perform for you, I would. That’s what I mean. You need to believe me that I’m not feeling well.”

“How much longer is it going to take then?” Edmund almost whines. “I’ve been bored out of my goddamn mind these last two weeks! I’ve hired jester after jester, but none of them entertains me in the way you do. You have to get well quickly.”

“In that case, I need the right type of rest.”

Edmund looks lost. For once, he can’t buy what he wants, he can’t get what he wants in an instant. And it makes him crazy.

“What can I do to speed up the process?” he asks. “What do you need?”

“I need to sleep, eat and get some fresh air.”

“Fre- … fresh air?” Edmund almost chokes on his spit. “I don’t want you to go out. I can open a window.”

“I want to be able to change environment, your majesty. You’ve been keeping me locked in for a month.”

“Stop calling me that. Call me Edmund. It sounds so weird when you call me that.”

“Are you sure? We’re not friends.”

“Well, you’re my private jester. You’re obviously something to me. I’ll stop calling you ‘sir’ and you’ll stop calling me ‘your majesty’, okay?”

You nod.

“Alright”, Edmund decides. “I will go out of my busy way to personally make sure that you get well.”

“Oh, uh, thank you … Edmund.”

For once, he smiles.

“Shall we start now, then?” Edmund asks with his hands clutched together tightly behind his back. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ve been lying in bed for two weeks, I’d like to stretch my legs. Can we go out?”

“...fine.”

You walk side by side, wearing your pajamas while Edmund is wearing his entire costume. The garden is currently covered in red, yellow and brown leaves, there’s not a single flower left in sight. You shiver.

“Why didn’t you bring a coat?” Edmund asks harshly, but before you have time to answer, he’s taken off his own and hung it around your shoulders. He starts buttoning it up. “You’re a clueless little puppet. When you’re not well you can’t even think on your own.”

“I’m not a puppet.”

“Yes, you are. You speak on command, you sing on command, you dance on command — what else would you be?”

“Sounds like a bird trapped in a cage.”

“At least you have nice feathers then.”

You stroll around the garden for fifteen minutes before Edmund decides that you’ve had enough. He grabs a hold of your arm and drags you with him.

"Oh, please be careful!" you beg him. "My legs hurt."

Edmund halts.

"They hurt?" he asks. "Why didn't you tell me? I need to know everything if I'm going to be able to help you!"

"It's manageable, I thought it didn't matter."

"Didn't matter? Fucking hell, Y/N."

He takes a harsher grip on your arm and steps closer. You want to back away, but stand your ground.

"You are to tell me everything you feel, think and want", he tells you warningly. "You're my jester. My property. And if I want you to tell me something, you do it without fuss. That's how things work."

He reaches out his free hand to touch your hair, but you flinch your head away. Wrong move. Edmund pulls you closer by your arm until you're standing chest to chest.

"Stop resisting me", he whispers.

"This isn't … professional", you mumble with your head turned away. "Stop."

"You're quite a thing, aren't you? Do you really think you're in any position to boss me around?"

You try to pull your arm away, but Edmund doesn't let you. He can't let you go. If he doesn't feel your warmth under his fingertips he'll freak out. When you fainted in front of his throne, he thought you died. He has never been so scared in his entire life. The thought of being without you sends him into a void he's afraid to never get out of.

Your attempt to get away doesn't succeed. Edmund pulls you even closer and wraps his arms tightly around you. You can feel his palm press on your back. He hides his face into your shoulder and breathes in. At first, he can only smell his own scent from his coat, but then … there's a small tingle of your sacred scent. It clouds his head and he brings you even closer to chase it.

"Ouch, you're hurting me", you mumble. "Your majesty, please let go-"

"Edmund", he reminds you without lifting his face out of your shoulder.

"Edmund, please let go, you're crushing my ribs …"

Edmund loosens his embrace ever so slightly.

"You need to go inside now", he says.

He brings you inside, and back to your bedroom. Edmund tucks you in (rather forcefully) as you lie and watch.

"Now sleep", the king says. "In an instant."

You hold in your laughter. The king must be magical if he can fall asleep whenever he wants.

"What are you smiling at?" Edmund mutters. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing", you say.

His body language tenses. "What is so fucking funny? Tell me!"

"Fine. The way you want me to fall asleep in less than a minute amuses me."

He relaxes. "Oh, okay. Yeah, I suppose it could be taken … in a funny manner."

But you do fall asleep quickly, much to Edmund's delight. He sits down on a chair beside your bed … and waits for you to wake up again. You might not be able to crack jokes, sing or recite poetry, but your presence is all Edmund needs. Just being by your side is enough to make his day. Edmund lets his upper body rest on the bed right by your legs. Edmund shuts his eyes and decides to drift off to sleep. He can’t wait until his little puppet is well enough to perform for him again. But don’t you worry, he’s going to help you. He’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re how he wants you to be.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere oc x reader #yandere king #yandere writing #yandere male #male reader

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ellavatorz · 1 year

Text

Fear Me || c.b. x reader

prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.

tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.

photo is not mine, found on Pinterest

a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3

It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.

The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.

“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.

He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”

With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”

Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.

Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.

“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”

“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.

“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.

Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.

There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.

“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”

His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.

“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.

“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.

“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”

“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”

“What? It’s true.”

“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.

“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”

You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.

“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”

“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.

“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.

“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.

The device goes off.

“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.

It’s silent.

The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”

You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.

The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”

Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”

“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.

“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.

Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.

The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.

“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.

“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.

“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.

“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“

“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.

You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”

“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.

It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.

“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.

After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.

“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.

“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.

“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”

Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”

“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.

“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.

The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.

“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.

“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”

At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.

“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”

“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.

#colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby brock blurb #colby brock x you #sam and colby

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kamisatomay018 · 5 months

Text

Playtime with the Otters

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Lots and lots of fluff! And yes I know many people must’ve written fics on this topic but I wanted to give it a go as well! Hope you all enjoy!<3

Also the artwork is not mine, all credits go to the original owner!

There you stood, with your lover’s face buried in your stomach, his arms clinging onto you around your waist while you caressed his long locks. You were both alone in the Opera Epiclese, and as usual, a hard trial had left your husband very upset, prompting you to come visit him to help him feel better. You loved how he was never afraid of being vulnerable around you, how the rain would always slow down and stop the moment he saw your figure walking past the grand doors to the courtroom. You massaged his head, gently caressing his horns making him hum in satisfaction. “Feeling better now love?”

He smiles softly, nodding and looks up at you with those devastatingly beautiful siren eyes of his, your presence having brought back life into them. “Yes Mon Amour, I cannot thank you enough..” You giggled softly, placing a sweet kiss on his forehead “Since when did we start having such formalities between us hm?” He laughs at your words, the gentle yet heartwarming sounds of his laughter bouncing off the walls of the rather depressing courtroom, filling it with joy. The dark clouds were long gone, and gentle rays of sunshine had begun to seep through the fluffy clouds.

“You’re right Cherie…but I do not wish to part with you so soon. I have plenty of free time, can you please stay with me some more?” Oh archons, how could you ever say no to those pleading eyes of his? Your smile brightened as you nodded, an idea already coming to mind. “I’d love to spend more time with you Neuvi! How about we go for a swim hm? It’s been so long since we’ve done that!” Neuvillette’s eyes softened as sweet memories swarmed into his mind like the tides, reminding him of your beautiful past; of the day he first saw you.

As the Hydro dragon, being in water always calmed him down, he would dive into the deepest depths of Fontaine’s oceans after a difficult trial to clear his mind. Besides, the melusine’s village was also underwater, and he’d spend a lot of time with them. On one such fateful day, as he swam towards the depths of the salacia plains, he saw a beautiful young girl examining a shipwreck ever so carefully, analysing every single scratch and dent on the broken pieces of the ship. That person was you, Fontaine’s leading historian and archaeologist who had been awarded and recognised by many for your hard work and dedication towards piecing together the history of this land.

Neuvillette was surprised by your bravery, for the depths of the salacia plains were dangerous and eerie, and no human would willingly come close to them. But here you were, seemingly enthralled by the historical evidence in front of you. He also noticed a Hydro vision glowing around your waist, which explained why you were so unafraid of the depths of these waters. However, Neuvillette’s eyes had widened as he saw a few enraged seals swim your way, ready to attack you. Without him even realising, he swiftly swam towards you, protecting you from the attack and using his hydro powers to harmlessly deflect the seals, making them retreat.

You on the other hand, were utterly surprised by what happened. You turned around and to your bewilderment, the Chief Justice himself was in front of you, protecting you from the seals’ attacks. To say that you were flustered was an understatement. Ah how embarrassed you were! Your cheeks had flushed pink, as you timidly thanked the Iudex, apologising for troubling him. But what you didn’t know that just by looking into your ocean blue eyes, Neuvillette’s heart immediately told him that he had found his mate, his partner for life. And ever since that day, he always found some way or the other to meet you, and you noticed how friendly the melusines had become around you. One thing led to another, and you both fell deeply in love.

Ever since then, both of you would often go to dive into the depths of Fontaine’s oceans together, collecting seashells, starfish and ancient relics together. Sometimes you would take him to multiple ruins underwater, explaining the history behind them and he would listen to you, completely enthralled by your knowledge and research abilities. Swimming in these oceans had deepened your love far beyond the deepest depths of the oceans of Teyvat.

And now, to hear you suggest that you both swim together made Neuvillette happier than ever, making him readily agree. Anything for his love. His heart skipped a beat as he heard your giggles, the big smile on your lips tempting him to kiss you, which is exactly what he did. You gasped softly, but immediately reciprocated the soft action of pure love. Neuvillette was clingy by nature, and it was your favourite thing ever. He would kiss you out of the blue, always hold your hand, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and hum the tunes of the oceans to lull you to sleep. He was the sweetest husband ever.

As you both parted, he held you hand, intertwining your fingers together as you walked outside the now empty Opera House, heading straight towards the ocean. The rain was long gone, and a beautiful rainbow decorated the skies, illuminated on the gentle surface of the waters. You both dived in together, your vision glowing as you both felt so content. You decided to head towards the salacia plains, as that place held the best memories you both had ever made.

As you both were swimming towards the depths, neuvillette felt your hand slip away from his, making him frown. He looked towards your direction and saw you swimming towards what looked like a cage. He followed immediately, not wanting you to come to harm. What you both saw upon reaching the sight broke your heart. Inside the cage was an otter, looking afraid and trying to get out, and outside the cage was another otter, probably his partner, whimpering in agony as she couldn’t help her partner out of the cage. They joined their little paws through the bars of the cage, seeming so distressed.

“Neuvi..look at these poor otters! How could someone trap such an innocent animal! Come on, we’ve got to help them!” Your worried voice spoke, making him nod. Indeed, it was most cruel to trap such beings in these cages. You swam closer to the otters, alerting them both as they were afraid you had come to harm them. “It’s okay, I don’t mean you any harm, I promise..I’m gonna help your partner get out okay?” You spoke in your soft voice, but of course, the otters couldn’t understand. Neuvillette then swam next to you, and you saw the way the otters instantly relaxed, the free one even approaching him, tilting her tiny head as she swam backwards towards his horns, making happy noises.

Your heart melted at the sight, and you laughed in delight. “Neuvi, you and the otters look so much alike!! They think you’re one of them!” Although puzzled, Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head softly knowing that you would never let this incident die down. And quite frankly, he wouldn’t mind because your happy giggles were his favourite melody. Taking this chance, he swam towards the cage, examining it. “Hmm..mon amour, I think we need to search for a key to open this lock. I’m afraid we cannot use our powers to break this open as it might hurt the poor otter trapped inside.” You nodded at his words “Alright, you stay here with them, I’ll be right back with the key!” He turned towards you, tenderly kissing your forehead. “Be careful, and if any danger comes to you, immediately call for me hm?” You gave him that oh so sweet smile of yours, nodding. “I will, you have my word.”

With that, you swam away, searching for a key. After around 10 minutes of searching, you found a metal key buried in the sand, picking it up and went back to your husband. “Alright, I’ve found a key, let’s hope it’s the right one!” Neuvillette took the key, and to your delight, the cage opened, making the otters immediately hold hands and hug each other, their snouts rubbing together in tender affection. Meanwhile you and Neuvillette both smiled happily at the sight, holding each other’s hands out of habit. “Oh this is so precious Neuvi!” “Indeed Mon amour, I’m glad we could rescue the otter.”

The otters then looked at you both, noticing the way you were holding hands, just like them. In their eyes, Neuvillette already looked like them, so perhaps you were his mate! They swam towards you both happily, expressing their gratitude. You laughed happily as the otters surrounded Neuvillette, examining his horns in glee. “Aaaww if only I had a Kamera with me, I’d capture this moment! You sure you’re the hydro dragon Neuvi? Because you clearly look more like these adorable otters!” You teased your husband, a playful glint in your eyes. Your husband laughs at your words, shaking his head as he snakes his hands around your waist, spinning you around. “Someone’s having a lot of fun hm?” He spoke with a playfully threatening tone, yet his voice was so full of love and adoration for you.

While you both were busy being playful, the otters had returned, this time with the sweetest little surprise for you both. Your eyes shined happily as they gave you both beautiful pink seashells, glittering under the soft sunlight from above. “Oh these are so beautiful!!” “Sweetheart, look..” Your husband’s gentle voice made you look in front of you, and your heart melted into the biggest puddle ever. Two tiny baby otters were surrounding their father who was previously trapped, and then swimming towards you and Neuvillette, booping their tiny snouts with your noses as an innocent little gesture of gratitude. “Aaaww they’re a family! Oh Neuvi this is so sweet..” He smiled too, nodding as he held you close to him, all his stress long forgotten. “It really is..and one day, we’ll come back here to visit them, with our own family..” Your cheeks flushed pink as you looked at your husband, nodding happily. “Yes, yes we will..”

5 Years Later..

Both you and Neuvillette watched with big smiles and warm eyes, as your tiny 4 year old twins played with the otters in Salacia Plains, the very family of otters you both had rescued 5 years ago. Neuvillette’s dragon powers granted his kids the freedom of swimming in the water, and to his delight, both your children had inherited one particular draconic feature of his: his beautiful blue horns. Your daughter had beautiful white locks like her father, while your son had your shining brown hair. They were such darlings, and the day the two of them were born, all of Fontaine had celebrated. The sun had shone brightly, a big beautiful rainbow adorned the skies while all the creatures underwater celebrated the arrival of two new hydro dragons.

Like their parents, your kids were deeply connected to the waters of Fontaine, and both you and Neuvillette would often take them on swims. And now here you all were, watching with joy as your kids played with the otters, finding shiny shells and little wonders buried underneath the sand. As neuvillette held you close and watched his little dragons grow and play, he swore he had never been this happy. And he knew that he would always protect this happiness, his family. With you three, he was complete. With his family, he was at peace. And these very depths of Fontaine were your family’s safe place, and the keeper of all your memories together.

#genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin fanart #genshin imagines #neuvilette x you #genshin impact neuvilette #neuvillette fluff #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette otter #genshin fluff

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nyxoz · 1 year

Note

Halloween smut with Scream Eddie nothing else matters

life’s no fun without a good scare

ghostface/scream!Eddie x Reader

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: Horror themes, knife play, smut, thigh fucking, P in V sex, unprotected sex, mentions of CNC, mask stays on during sex, thick thighs save lives, dom/sub undertones.

more scream fics!

The final trick-or-treater of the night leaves with the last bit of your candy. A sweet little ballerina who did a pirouette on your front porch just for you.

Your feet are hurting from being on them all night, so you decide to run a bath. As the water reaches the top of the tub, you strip your shirt and pants. As you reach for your bra clasps the doorbell rings. You sigh, must be a random trick-or-treater, you hate to have to tell them you’ve got no candy left.

You turn the tap off on the bath and grab your robe, covering your panties and bra, and wrapping it tightly around your body. You walk out of your bathroom towards the front door and pass the TV in the living room that is playing the third horror movie of the night. You catch a glimpse of Michael Myers just as you reach the front door.

You open it to reveal… no one.

There’s no one there. You take a few steps out and look around your street to see it completely empty. Hawkins is eerie at night, especially with the added Halloween decorations covering people’s front lawns. The wind howls in the distance and you take one final look before turning to walk back inside.

Just as you turn around something jumps at your feet. You gasp and bounce back, looking down to find eyes staring at you in the dark. You squint a little and soon see a black cat. More specifically your neighbour's cat. Bending down, you reach out a hand and scratch his soft head.

“You scared me, honey.” You coo. He begins walking to the opposite end of your porch and you walk after him. He jumps up onto the railing and you give him one final pat before he jumps off and back towards his house. As you watch him you hear the creak of the porch steps, you turn around to see who it is and again, no one is there.

You shake your head and sigh.

“Stupid scary movies.” You mutter as you make your way back inside.

You make sure to triple-check the lock before walking back to your bathroom. As you enter the dark hallway you see something run from one bedroom across to another. You stop still in your tracks.

“Hello?” You call out, “Is someone there?”

When no one answers you decide that you just imagined it. You carefully go to walk past the bedrooms to the bathroom and as you do something crowds against you pushing you up against a wall.

You scream as your back hits the wall hard and you feel the cool steel of a knife press up against your throat.

You look up through thick lashes and see a white mask staring back at you. A mask that you’re all too familiar with.

“Are you scared?” a deep voice asks. It almost makes you chuckle, hearing Eddie trying to hide his normal voice.

“What are you gonna do, slit my throat?”

A warm chuckle comes from the mask and he pulls the knife away a little to trace the tip along your jugular.

“Nah, you should stand behind someone when you cut their throat. Too messy otherwise, you’ll get blood alllllll over yourself.”

You lick over your bottom lip and flutter your lashes as you look at the ghost face.

“Well, what are you gonna do to me?”

Eddie’s free hand, that’s covered in a black leather glove, comes out and grabs at the rope holding your robe together. He tugs on it till it comes undone and your robe falls open, revealing your bra and panties.

“Hmmm,” he says, the knife comes to the collar of the robe and pushes it over your shoulder, “Dunno, haven’t decided yet.” The robe drops off both your arms and lands on the floor around your feet, leaving you in just your underwear.

You stand there leaning against the wall while he towers over you in his disguise. Slowly, you sidestep towards the open door to your right and Eddie’s mask follows you as you go.

You backstep into the room, and Eddie starts following you. You stand between your bed and mirror vanity, waiting for him to make the next move.

He walks in front of you, and you can see yourself from the mirror in the corner of your eye. His knife comes up and traces between the valley of your breasts, over your chest and collarbone before it slides under the strap of your bra. You look down and watch as the knife turns so the sharp side faces up and he pulls the knife toward him, cutting the strap cleanly.

A small gasp escapes your lips as the cup falls and exposes your breast. The cool air hits your nipple and it starts to harden.

He quickly does the same to the other side looking down through his mask at both your round tits sitting perfectly in front of him.

Reaching over his shoulder, you hear the sound of velcro pulling apart and the black gown he’s wearing slips down his shoulders and he lets it drop to the ground. It reveals a faded black band tee with the sleeves cut off, tucked into his classic black ripped jeans. His cut-off sleeves reveal his tattoos that scatter his arms, leaving no doubt in your mind that it’s Eddie behind the mask.

“Face the mirror.” He demands.

You do as he says and turn your body until you’re facing the mirror directly. Eddie takes a few steps until he’s standing behind you, his masked face in view over your shoulder.

You take in the view; you standing there with your tits out and in just your panties, your bra a mangled mess still wrapped around your torso. Eddie fully clothed and standing behind you with his mask on and hair peeking out from the bottom. Your heart races at the image and you can’t stop your chest from heaving.

Eddie’s leather-cladded hands land on your waist and you can’t help but jump a little at the coolness.

He begins pushing you forward, inch by inch until your thighs are flush with the wood of your vanity desk.

His right-hand splays over your abdomen and your tummy dips at the contact. Slowly he trails it down until his thick leather fingers are pressed over your cotton panties. He pushes against your slit over the material and you feel the warm wetness that has seeped into your underwear press back against you.

He rubs small soft circles over your clit, making you moan breathlessly and lean back against him. You feel the soft line of his stomach press against your back and his crotch press against the top of your ass.

“Look at you,” He whispers gruffly into your ear, his masked face pressed to the side of your head, “You’ll let anyone fuck you, won’t you? Anyone could just walk into your house and bend you over and you’d be a moaning whore for it.”

At that, he slaps your clothed cunt and you moan out like the whore he said you were.

He chuckles at the sound and slides both his hands up to your breasts grabbing at them harshly. He squeezes at the fat before tweaking and flicking at your nipples, shocks of pleasure shoot through you as he continues to abuse them.

You’ve absolutely drenched your underwear. If Eddie didn’t have gloves on to feel it himself, you know he would taunt you for how dripping wet you are for him like this.

Without warning, Eddie grabs at the back of your head with one hand and pushes you forward so you’re bending over the vanity with your face inches from the mirror. You look at the way your breasts hang and sway, nipples ravished and skin now bleeding back to colour from being squeezed.

Eddie releases your hair and brings his hands down to undo his belt and jeans. He pulls himself out and gives his cock a few lazy tugs, you wonder what it feels like with his gloves on.

One of his hands comes to land on your throat, making you have to stare right at the scene otherwise you’ll choke against his grip.

He releases his cock and tugs your panties down to just below your ass before bringing his hand back and guiding himself between your legs. His tip slides through your slick folds and he laughs loudly at how soaked you are.

“You’re practically dripping, sweetheart. Surprised there isn’t a puddle on the floor.”

You look at his mask and try to look into the eyes to make eye contact, you push back against his dick, letting it trace up your slit and hit your clit.

“Please.” You beg.

“Please she says,” He mocks, “I could do anything I fucking wanted to you and you wouldn’t be able to do shit.”

Your hole clenches at the thought of Eddie being so in control of the situation, at you being at his absolute mercy. You whimper thinking about it.

“Y’know what?” He says, pulling at your throat so you have to hold yourself up a little higher to be able to breathe, “You need to earn my cock.”

You whine and pout your lips at him in the mirror.

He smacks your ass sharply at the protest causing you to jump forward a little and bump your vanity. Bottles of perfume and lotion fall over but you couldn’t care less.

Eddie’s foot comes up and pushes down your panties till they're at your ankles. He lets go of your throat and your hands quickly come forward to stop yourself face-planting into the mirror.

With his now free hands he takes off both his gloves and you're disappointed to see none of his rings adorning his stubby thick fingers. He reaches forward to a lotion bottle that’s laying on its side and grabs at it. You watch as he pumps a generous amount onto his palm. Your eyes follow his hands in the mirror, they disappear behind you to his cock and you hear the slick sound of him rubbing some of the lotion on it. You gasp, startled, as he bends down slightly and his slippery hand reaches between you and rubs over your inner thigh before doing the same to the other side, coating your skin in the cool lotion.

He straightens up and grabs at his cock, tapping it on your ass a little to get your attention.

You look back up at his masked face.

“I’m gonna fuck your thighs,” His husky voice says, “and if you’ve earned it, I’ll fuck that sweet hole, yeah?”

You bite at your lip and nod slightly, agreeing to his terms.

He stares at you for a second before guiding his cock between your thighs. As you feel his cock head slide against your inner thigh, you instinctively squeeze your legs together for him to create some friction.

His dick slides between the fat of your thighs slowly, his pelvis hitting your ass. He lets out little groans as he speeds up and you tighten your thighs as much as you can, your knees knocking together.

“Fucking hell,” Eddie says.

The hands-on your hips are gripping tight, pulling you with him as he fucks his hips forward.

He stands a little straighter and the line of his cock slides along your slit making you moan and drop your head between your shoulders.

“Think you deserve it yet, sweetheart?” He asks.

The tip of his cock hits your clit and you feel a shiver run through you. “Please.” You whimper.

“What was that?”

You lift your head and look at his masked face in the mirror, “Please.” You say louder.

“So polite.”

He slaps a hand down against your ass and pulls out fully, straightening up to his full height. His foot toes between your calves and push you to stand your legs apart further.

His hand comes to your hair and grabs at it, using it to pull you upright. You feel the burn on your scalp and hit the hard line of his body as you stand up. His masked face hides into your neck just below your ear and you feel his cock trapped between your cheeks.

“Look at yourself.” He whispers.

Your eyes lock with yourself in the mirror and you take in your form.

As you watch yourself you feel his hand grab at his cock and he slides down your crack until he’s pushing at the entrance of your cunt.

His knees bend a little to get the angle and he drops his head against your shoulder to look down at his cock disappearing.

“Jesus.” He whispers to himself.

He fully pushes into you and your mouth drops open at the pressure and the slight burn of being opened up by his cock. He bottoms out and looks back up at you from over your shoulder.

You look at his masked face and nod slowly, silently begging for him to move.

He laughs a little and does short, small thrusts into you.

You drop your head back a bit on his shoulder, still looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your bra hangs around your midsection and your tits bounce slightly as his hips fuck into you a little harder. His hand not in your hair grips at your love handle and pulls you into him.

He pulls all the way out and pounds up into you, hitting you deep and making you yell out loud.

“Oh fuck!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut.

Eddie laughs again and his hand in your hair tugs a little. “Eyes open.” He instructs.

You open your eyes and instantly land on the jiggle of your body as he fucks his cock into your pussy hard and fast.

The hand on your hip inches around to your belly and splays over it, trailing down until he’s at the top of your slit near your clit. His thick finger slides between your slit and rubs over your wet nub. You sob out at the pleasure.

The heat in your core grows and you feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

The sound of skin hitting skin and the wet squelch of him fucking into your cunt echoes around the room. You hear his heavy breaths from behind his mask and look at him through the mirror.

“Where do you want my load, baby?” He asks.

You bite your lip and can barely get the words out as his fingers on your clit begin moving faster.

“My mouth.”

Eddie groans at your response. “Fuck yes.”

You feel your orgasm begin to spill over as he hits your cervix in time with the rubbing of your clit.

“Oh god, oh god.” You yell as your orgasm overcomes you and you squeeze around his cock.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” He plays with your clit a little more to milk your orgasm from you as he slows his thrusts to a stop.

Eddie pulls out of you as you catch your breath and you dazedly turn around and take a step to the side to drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him as he stares down at your masked face, the scary disguise only making your pussy flutter a little bit more.

He jacks himself off as you open your mouth and stick out your tongue.

“Fuck you’re a goddamn dream.” He says.

He fucks his fist faster and soon he lets out a muffled groan followed by a stream of hot come that hits your tongue and chin.

His head is still dropped down looking at you as he drops his cock and catches his breath.

You swallow the load that lands on your tongue and your hand comes up and your thumb scoops up the rest that landed on your chin before you suck it clean.

You stand up slowly and come face to face with the mask. You can only guess how fucked out your face looks right now. You reach up and grab at his mask and he lets you pull it off his head.

His hair flies up with it and sticks everywhere as you drop the mask to your vanity desk.

He’s smiling dazed as he looks down at you, his face flushed and sweaty.

“Hi.” He says.

You smile and lean up on your tippy toes, a hair away from his lips, “Hi.”

Eddie leans forward and presses a sweet to your lip before pushing his tongue against you to lick into your mouth and taste himself on your tongue.

“Mmmmmm.” He moans into you before he pulls away.

His hands are holding your face and pushing your hair back as he stares into your eyes.

“Happy Halloween.” He says.

You laugh through your nose and roll your eyes, “Happy Halloween.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #ghostface eddie #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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myeuphoricmindset · 1 year

Text

The Afterlife - Eddie x Fem!reader

PART ONE:

Summary | You've been surviving in The Upside Down with Eddie for months and you had one last night with him knowing you both were going to die. But did you? (This story is a part two to my story called: As the world burns. You can find my master list on my page.)

Warnings/Tags | 18+ Unprotected sex, talk about death and world ending, mention of thinking life would be better if reader were dead (not suicide), Comfort Eddie, This one-shot is not about the smut, even though there is a small scene it’s not focused on it so please set your expectations accordingly.

Please let me know if I missed a warning.

Word count | 2.7k

Unfamiliar voices filled the room and you focused on Eddie's voice to feel safe. You’ve never seen Eddie so happy before, his smile is brighter and his laugh is louder.

After Dustin and the young girl with the short hair turned away to give you both privacy to put on clothes Eddie wasted no time hugging them and asking a thousand questions. A group of people busts through the door once El mentions that it’s clear.

“El did it! She killed Vecna and destroyed The Upside down.” Dustin shouts with excitement in his voice as Eddie hugs him for the second time. “We came back because I just had to make sure you weren’t gone. I had to.” Eddie squeezes Dustin harder and you notice tears in Eddie’s eyes before he wipes them away so no one notices.

You look away, giving them a moment. El smiles at you from across the room. She notices your timid stance behind Eddie and she steps closer to you, talking softly. “Hi, I’m El.”

You smile and introduce yourself. Eleven welcomes you and introduces you to the rest of the group as Eddie joins your side and holds your hand. Everyone seems so nice, but the amount of people in the room is overwhelming when you’ve only been around one person for the past few months and before Eddie came along you were completely alone for two months prior. The lack of human contact does something to a person, and it must be showing because everyone looks at you with pity in their eyes.

“I think we need a moment,” Eddie says softly to everyone in the room after glancing at you.

A girl with shoulder-length brown hair looks at you as she stands next to a guy with better-looking hair. She says, “Alright guys, let’s give them a breather.”

“Thanks, Robin,” Eddie says.

“We have food when you both are ready,” A boy says sweetly. He has kind eyes with a hint of sadness and that relaxes you a bit. Eddie says something to him and mentions his name. Will. You say his name in your head as you try to memorize everyone's name.

The bedroom door closes, leaving you and Eddie alone. He pulls you into a hug immediately and you inhale his comforting scent to remind yourself that it’s okay.

“We made it. We are okay. We are alive.” Eddie says in your ear as he squeezes you tighter. You aren’t sure if he’s telling you that or trying to convince himself that this is real. But you’re thankful for it because you need some convincing yourself.

Your eyes scan the room as you stand in Eddie’s arms. It’s the same bedroom, but no blue hue or spores filling the air. It’s not cold or eerie. There is no screeching from the Demobats circling the cabin. The room looks the same, but it’s warm and inviting. The atmosphere is what you remember from life before The Upside. A life that you accepted you’d never see again.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, cupping your face. Your mouth is dry as you try to form words. Eddie's thumb brushes your cheek as he tries to comfort you. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” You nod and bury your face in his chest. He strokes your hair and kisses your head. “I’m here. We will get through this.” He whispers.

Loud voices and movement from outside the room have you pulling back to look at Eddie. You want to ask him to take you home, but you have no home. The only person you had in the real world was your sister and she died during the boat accident in Lover’s Lake. An accident you think of daily, because if you didn’t follow her into that water and accidentally end up in the open gate then you might have a normal life right now. But this is your life and you have nowhere to go. Eddie has friends and you’re sure he has family and a home to return to. The realization of it all hits you and you try blinking back the tears.

“What now?” You ask faintly.

“We go home.”

“I-I don’t have a home.” You choke out.

You think for a split second that maybe it would have been better to die instead of live because at least you had a potential future with Eddie in the afterlife. But this reality is full of uncertainty. Eddie has a life to return to and you’ve never felt more alone than you do right now.

Eddie wipes your tears and lifts your chin so you meet his gaze. “What is mine is yours. Do you think I’m going to go on living without you? Fuck that. I chose you in death and I’m choosing you in life too. Okay?”

The heavy weight on your chest lifts and you let out a soft sob. “Okay.” You cry. Why did I doubt him? You think to yourself. Eddie leans down and kisses you softly. His lips are soft and so sweet. Your tears run down your face causing the kiss to have a subtle trace of salt in Eddie’s sweet reassurance.

“I can’t wait to show you a life with me without fear. This is the version of me that you always deserved.” Eddie says brushing your hair back from your face.

You shake your head, “I want every version of you. Don’t say that.”

He smiles and nods, trying to believe your words. You think about the time when Eddie told you about his life before The Upside Down and how you would have liked him more if you'd met him back then. You want to laugh or scream because he is everything to you, every version in every parallel universe. He is who he was before and who he is now, and you think he must not realize that he can be both. He’s deserving of love before and after his trauma.

Something you need to remind yourself too…

Eddie breaks your thoughts by kissing you again and then guiding you out of the room. He walks before you as if he’s your shield against a world that you no longer find familiar. You think to yourself that as long as you’re with him then you can overcome anything.

His friends greet you with smiles and welcoming hands as you and Eddie join them in the living room. A hot pizza on the counter almost sends you to your knees since you’ve lived off chips and beef jerky for months.

Maybe living isn’t as bad as you think.

“Holy shit it feels good to be home,” Eddie says as he walks around his trailer —his home. A home that he thought was destroyed. He doesn’t know how it’s still standing, but El told him to not ask questions and he didn’t. He has a huge smile on his face as he tells you about his home and about his Uncle Wayne, who Eddie thinks is not here because of work.

Eddie's friends dropped you both off ten minutes ago knowing it’s time for you both to rest before meeting up again tomorrow. You really like his friends and it’s nice to think that eventually, they will be your friends too. Your life here is already starting to slowly rebuild.

You watch Eddie’s fingers run over the fabric of a jacket hanging over the back of the couch. His smile is softer and his eyes are blinking back tears. “I thought I’d never see him again.” He says quietly while looking at Wayne’s jacket.

You come up behind him and hug him. “Welcome home.”

He spins to face you and pulls you into him. “Welcome home to you too.”

Your chest warms at the thought of a place to call home. “What do you think Wayne will think of this?”

“He will probably think you’re my girlfriend that I ran off with for months and he will be pissed.” He smiles at that. “I don’t know honestly. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to tell him, but I think at the end of the day it won’t matter. He will be happy I’m home and he will welcome you without hesitation because that’s what he does.”

You smile at that and rest your head on Eddie’s chest. You notice a huge wall filled with coffee mugs. “So, is that his or your collection?” You point to the shelves and giggle.

Eddie laughs, “Uncle Wayne and those damn mugs.” His brows furrowed as he looked closer. “Wow, he’s added more since I’ve been gone.” That makes Eddie laugh harder. “Jesus H. Christ.” And you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s go rest,” Eddie says.

“Do you think we could shower first?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide with excitement. “A hot shower! Oh, hell yeah.” He grabs your hand and rushes to the bathroom.

For months you and Eddie bathed in pools and ponds. Showers were nonexistent in The Upside Down since there was no running water, so knowing you now have access to showers again feels like a gift from the gods.

You step into the shower with Eddie’s help, his hand outstretched. It’s not unusual to be this close to Eddie. You have been doing everything with him for months and this is normal. Showering with him feels more right than without him. Maybe trauma bonding was a thing?

A moan rolls off Eddie’s lips as the water runs down his back. You smile at the sound and the flutter that fills your stomach. He guides you under the water, making sure you get more coverage than he does.

“Oh my god,” you say as you close your eyes. The warm water spills over your body and it’s the most wonderful feeling. You wonder how you ever lived without a hot shower.

“Feels so fucking good, right?” Eddie says with a laugh.

“So good. Better than sex.”

Eddie lifts a brow, “Better than sex, huh?”

You laugh, “Isn’t that what people say?”

Eddie laughs with you, his wet hair plastered to his face. His hair is longer with the curls stretched in the water. God, he was beautiful. You touch his face and he relaxes, his smile softening. The water runs over your bodies as you stare at each other. Eddie's hands grab your waist and pull you close.

“I love you,” he says quickly. “I should have said that before when I thought it was all ending. I’m upset that I didn’t. But I really believe that it wasn’t over. I was going to find you after, you know…in the afterlife or whatever is after this. I knew it wasn’t the end for us. I thought that if I held onto those words it was a promise that I’d find you and deliver them in our next life. And, well…shit, here we are. I guess this is our after, so yeah. I love you. I loved you before death and now. Whatever this is.”

Your heart bursts under the weight of his words. You can’t tell if you’re crying or if it’s the water running down your face, but all you can focus on is the warmth swelling within your chest.

“I love you so much.” You say. It’s pathetic. Five words that don’t even carry the weight of what you feel. You crash your lips onto his. You wrap your arms around him, needing him as close as possible. Fuck, you want to crawl into his chest and make a damn home. You want to bath in those words, have them embedded into your skin. You’ve never felt this way before. It’s a craving and a need that can’t be met. You love him so much that it hurts to breathe and once you can catch a breath all you want is to inhale him.

Eddie’s fingers dig into your skin, almost a reflection of the need burning within you. His kiss is desperate and hungry. He pressed you against the shower wall and you let out a gasp that he cut off with his mouth on yours. He’s hard against you and your body aches in answer. There is no foreplay besides his love confession. It’s only a hungry desire for one another and the need to be as close as possible in every way.

Eddie lifts you by the hips and you tighten your grip around his neck. You’re both out of breath from the kiss and the urgency of it all. You let out a whimper as he lowers you down on him. He fills you so perfectly.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans.

The water spills over you both as you move together. You are pinned between the shower wall and Eddie’s body, exactly where you want to be.

Eddie kisses your neck as he thrusts into you. “Are you sure it’s better than sex?”

You laugh, which ends in a moan as Eddie pushes deeper into you. “Maybe I was wrong.”

His hand moves up and grabs your breast, massaging it softly as he sucks on your neck. He’s everywhere, all you can feel and taste. After everything you’ve been through, he feels like your prize. You know that you’d go through it all a million times if you ended up being exactly where you are now.

After some time of moving together in perfect bliss, Eddie slams his hand on the shower wall above your head as his body starts to shake. He drops his head back as his breath quickens. You feel the warm wave build within your body and you grab Eddie’s face in your hands. He meets your gaze as he barely hangs on.

“Together,” you say, repeating his words from before.

You both reach your climax, clinging onto each other and trying to stay upright as the water washes away the desire that burned inside you both. You smile and laugh softly as you help each other regain stability.

Eddie plants a kiss on your bare shoulder before running his fingers through your soapy hair. There is something symbolic about Eddie washing your hair as if he is washing away every bad thing that ever happened in the past months. It feels right that he is the one doing it because even though you were dirty on the outside he made you feel brand new on the inside before the world burned, well…the world that brought you two together.

He massages your scalp before gently guiding you under the water. You close your eyes and focus on his fingers running through your hair as he washes away the soap. This must be what Heaven feels like, not the washing of your hair, but the touch of Eddie Munson.

After helping Eddie wash his hair and both of you washing your bodies, you find yourself wearing Eddie’s pajamas and crawling into his bed.

“Your room is exactly what I pictured.” You say as you rest your head on the pillow. A real pillow, one that’s not covered in dust. It’s the little things that make you happy now.

“Oh really?” Eddie smirks as he walks around his room, taking it all in. He stops and looks up to where a guitar is hanging. His smile grows and brushes his fingers over the strings. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” He whispered.

The sound of the strings fills the room and you lay in bed admiring him in his space. It’s comforting to be surrounded by all things Eddie. There is no fear here, only him.

Eddie turns off the lamp and crawls into bed. He lets out a sigh of relief that he’s probably been holding since he left his life. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and find his face. He silently smiles at you saying he sees you too.

“Come here,” he says. You scoot closer to him and he pulls you into him, closing the space between you both. You both lay in each other's arms and everything feels right. The silence grows and it’s comfortable, something that came easy to you both from the start.

“What if this is a dream?” You ask quietly.

Eddie kisses your nose and rests his forehead against yours. His brown eyes still shine in the darkness and pierce your soul. Forever leaving a mark.

He smiles before saying, “Then I’m happy to know that through every life, every parallel universe and even in our dreams we are together.”

Together.

You repeat his words in your mind as you slowly drift to sleep with a smile on your face and the promise of tomorrow.

Taglist:

@eddiemunson4life420 @gabrielsgoldengrace @boxofsmittens @harrys-tittie @briasnow-blog @all-time-otaku @enam31 @steveoswhore @mvnsonsblunt @theghees-blog @sweet-villain @sivt4five @sweetmarihs2 (I hope I did this right. I’ve never done a taglist.)

#eddiemunson #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you

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dearestspirit · 5 months

Text

a note heard in heaven - 01

mizu x fem!reader | au based on the film the handmaiden | word count: 3,388 | warnings: mdni. this series will contain sexual and dark themes, including: abuse, sex, sexual assault/harrasment, period typical misogyny, murder, allusions to suicide, and period typical stigmas against mental health. series masterlist | previous part | next part

“Fuck!” Mizu grunts, knocking her head into the ceiling of her little room after hearing your scream.

Hissing, she hurriedly flails up and out of bed, Madame Kaji’s words on her mind. The older woman had told Mizu about your nightmares– she was no stranger to them herself. If she were back in that dingy village she called home right now, she would’ve gone right back to sleep. It’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t thinking about ignoring you, even now. Taigen would have her head if she didn’t follow through with the plan, though… The thought of losing out on the money is enough to make her quicken her pace through your door, nearly tripping over herself.

Your voice is torn between muttering and full-blown shrieking– crying for your mother. Your mother, who, as far as Mizu knew, was long gone. Once she reaches your bed, she’s out of breath and already has her arms at, what she assumes is, your shoulders to hold you in place. Buried under your blanket and absolutely thrashing around, Mizu can barely get a word out to calm you down. Eventually, she can tell you’ve become more conscious when you start calling out for the name of your old handmaiden.

“No, no, I’m the new one,” Mizu hushes you, your wild movements slowly ceasing. “You had a bad dream, go back to sleep.” Her tone is rough, hoping you’re through the worst of it.

Finally, you take hold of the blanket, easing the hem of it down to your midsection. Mizu, for a moment, gulps as you’re revealed to her. In the glint of the moonlight, your eyes were almost crystalline. Tear tracks stain your cheeks, complexion ruddy with grief. Her eyes trail down to your lips, trembling. Grasped tightly in your arms was a doll. You looked… fragile. Fragile in an all too familiar way. Fragile in the way that she knew she once was too– a child, having a bad dream, calling for their mother. No mother would come for either of you.

She watches you raise your arm, finger pointing out into the gardens your room faces. “Do you see the cherry tree? My aunt… she passed. There’s nights where I see her out there.” Your rasping barely breaks through the quiet, hoarse and shaky.

Mizu’s attention is turned towards the large window, squinting out of it. Watching you from the corner of her eye, she can’t shake the thought of how eerie you are. Neither Taigen nor Madame Kaji had even hinted at the notion of you seeing ghosts to her. She wasn’t superstitious in the slightest, but she felt the weight of her responsibility for you become heavier. Melancholy like yours was easy to sense, deeply buried as it may be. This job was going to be the end of her. She sighed, hoping to turn around and find you peacefully sleeping.

“For fuck’s sake!” Mizu grits her teeth, finding you not even in the room at all once she turns back.

She’s quick to chase after you, finding you huddled in a swathe of your own blankets at the top of the stairs. You’re sniffling into them, knees pressed tightly to your chest. When you peer up at her, a zing of guilt courses up her spine. Maybe you didn’t just look fragile.

“Come to your senses yet?” She asks, tilting her head with her arms crossed. Reaching a foot out, she nudges at your legs.

You give her a sluggish nod in response, having exerted all your energy. Between the scrambling in bed and the mad dashing to the staircase, you felt well and truly exhausted. Part of you felt remorse; for looking at Mizu, even in the dim light, you could see the weariness under her eyes. In the gauntness of her cheekbones, too. Despite feeling despair holding you down, you reach your arms out, gesturing for her help. Mizu drags a hand over her face, grumbling. Squatting down, she’s somehow able to enclose her arms around the mass of blankets covering you, lifting you easily. It barely takes her any time to lug you back into bed.

Her awkward nature is obvious as she stands once more at your side. “Okay, well… goodnight?”

Sitting up, you don’t hesitate to take Mizu’s sleeve into your hand and pull. In response, she tugs herself away from you, scoffing.

“Don’t grab me like that,” Mizu seethes. “Ever. Just call for me.”

Your mouth runs dry. Whether that’s due to the harshness of her tone or the fact you upset her, you aren’t entirely sure. “I apologize… Could you stay with me until I fall asleep again?”

Her face scrunches. “Don’t you have a husband? Call him in here.”

You squirm, clearly uncomfortable. “We aren’t actually married yet. Calling each other husband and wife… it’s for appearances,” Your head lolls back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling. That doll you had– it’s returned to its position of being clutched tightly in your arms. “Men like him are only gentle with women when others are watching.”

Mizu’s chest heaves, a strong exhale leaving her as she contemplates her next move. “Fine, just for tonight.”

Your eyes light up almost instantaneously. The sight makes her swallow, stiffly. Had… anyone ever looked at her like that? Those sparks of joy, finally overtaking that shadowy gloom in your irises; it captivated her. Briefly, at least.

“Ugh,” she shook her head, taking little care to climb into the spot next to you. “Look, if I’m staying here until you fall asleep, you’re facing the other way.”

“Your eyes are blue. I couldn’t see them that well before.”

“Yes, they are. Just another good reason for you to turn around, right?” she sneers. “Or better yet, go ahead and fire me.”

You frown, holding her gaze. “I wouldn’t fire you for something like that,” you’re mumbling as you bring a hand up to her cheek, caressing it with the back of your knuckle. “For what it’s worth, I think they’re beautiful. Someone would’ve been very happy to have you as a wife someday, I’m sure.”

Mizu snorts at that, carefully edging her face away from your touch. “I’ll pass, but… thanks. Even if it’s empty flattery.”

She can see your lips form into a pout. “It’s not!”

You’re playful, all of a sudden. She figures that this is it. Your loneliness bubbling to the surface. An undrownable creature made of desires and aches. Mizu knew your old handmaidens were mostly a lot older than you– elderly women vastly more experienced than the other youthful servant girls. It’s been very, very long since you’ve had a friend, if you’ve ever had one to begin with. It was only slightly unfortunate to her that she’d have to be the one to prey upon your vulnerabilities.

“Do brats like you whine all the time?” She huffs, taking your arms within her hands and turning you around herself. “You must be worn out by now, so go to bed. I’ll… be here.”

You chuckle at her, the grimace she must be sporting is obvious even though you’re not looking anymore. You can’t help but think that your mattress felt a bit softer tonight.

It was a long few minutes that passed by, Mizu’s eyes trained on the motions of your breathing. When your body rose, fell. The slight shivers that would run through you when your blanket slipped lower than wanted. Clearing her throat, she eased herself off of your bed. With her first night as your handmaiden over, she questioned just how sane she’d be after the end of all this. At least she’d be rich, she supposed, slipping back into her bedroll with a smirk.

Mizu awoke to a bleary morning and the sound of Madame Kaji’s grating nags in her ear. Something about even the handmaiden eating in the servant’s quarters– she didn’t care all that much, barely half conscious to hear it. It took her a few groggy minutes to make her way outside and get her hands on a bowl of rice and some sort of… porridge, she assumed.

The hall was filled with the gossip of the other young girls serving here. Together they squealed about The Count; he was due to make an appearance today. Supposedly they saw a light ghosting through the hallway, speculating it was him meeting you in your bedroom. She almost laughed at that, knowing the reality is that it was her going after you during your nightmare. Fiddling with her chopsticks, she felt little appetite knowing Taigen would be here today. Everything in this plan had to go perfectly, there was no room for her to be suspicious or lack confidence in her abilities. Perhaps the seemingly endless downpour of rain was also putting a damper on her? Taking only a few more bites, she pushed her bowls away from her. Padding over to where she left her shoes, she felt a bristle of anger. One of her shoes was gone, with a crowd of other servant girls giggling. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for them, Madame Kaji was approaching her with a parasol held over her head.

“Is that how you intend on going to meet with the Lady?” Her eyebrow raises, gesturing to Mizu’s feet.

“I didn’t exactly plan on having my shoe taken.” Mizu fumes.

Madame Kaji sighs, massaging her temple. “Ah… Very well.”

A sense of unease settled in Mizu’s chest. This would be her first official meeting with you. It’d be up to you whether you’d take her on as handmaiden or not… and it was looking grim for her, right now. As if she isn’t on enough people’s hit list, she’d have to go and be added to Taigen’s for screwing up. She follows closely behind Madame Kaji as she leads her to your room, trying her best to ignore the sogginess of her footwear. It takes everything in her to not grumble with every step, keeping up a polite disposition. Even if you were willing to put up with her irritable nature, Madame Kaji certainly wasn’t.

Before long, she stood in front of you in a deep bow, hands folded at her waist.

“This is Mizu.” Madame Kaji spoke.

You felt a prickle of heat trail up your neck, a twinge of embarrassment at realizing that through the entire night, you hadn’t asked for her name once.

“I’m at your service, my Lady.” She straightens herself out, eyes now set on you.

You’re much more put together today. That hair of yours is pinned up neatly, off your shoulders. And your eyes, today, aren’t sullied by the red tint of sorrow. Your choice of dress guides the eyes– from nose to lips to neck to the faint hint of exposed collarbones. Delicate; the word that comes to mind when Mizu collects her thoughts. Madame Kaji leaves a less than pleasant swat on her back.

“Right, a letter from my last mistress.” Mizu stands before you, holding out the paper.

You don’t open it yet, instead choosing to focus your sight on Mizu. “Did you enjoy your first night here? It’s rare for the sun to come out. My husband prefers it that way, otherwise his extensive library would be at risk. To take joy in a place like this… it’s difficult, no?”

Mizu’s eyesight flickers between you and Madame Kaji, wondering how to answer. “I don’t mind it.”

“Hm,” You hum inquisitively. “You don’t have to lie when I question you. I want your honesty. Do you have parents?”

“What?” Mizu asks, somewhere between anger and surprise.

“I’ll be going now.” Madame Kaji shakes her head, sighing.

“I don’t have any either, so don’t feel bad. I had my aunt and Madame Kaji, so how much can the love of a mother really be worth?” For a second, she hears the twist of something bitter in you. You look back down at the letter Mizu handed you. “Read this to me, if you will.”

“You’re spoiled, aren’t you?” She grunts, taking the parchment out of your hands.

“It’s only because my head hurts before every reading session with my husband. Though your honesty is refreshing.” You’re grinning, unused to someone like her. Your previous handmaidens were at your beck and call– annoyingly so.

It’s odd, but in her mind she’s quick to consider you… charming. You’ve been spoon-fed and privileged your whole life, yet here you are conversing with her without taking any offense. Delight has always been scarce for her; still, she reminds herself whatever she feels now will and must be short lived.

“Dear Lady of the House… The Count said you needed a new maid…” Mizu starts, reading off the neat handwriting which she knows is Taigen’s, but you're oblivious to.

“Ah, enough,” You wave a hand at her, taking the letter back. “You’ll be my handmaid. I know Madame Kaji forbids it, but I don’t particularly care if you curse or steal. It’s my word that decides whether you stay or not.”

“You speak like you have a condition for my staying?” Mizu questions.

“I do. Don’t ever lie to me.” You smile, though your words are cold. It’s a chilling ultimatum that rings in the back of her mind for a while.

She freezes as you put her hands on her– resting them on the outside of her arms, slowly trailing to her wrists. There’s a second where she can pinpoint the exact change in your expression. Where it morphs from man-eating to genuine. She thinks that through all the rain, the sun might be shining a little brighter through the gray now.

“And, another question,” You’re scanning her appearance, zeroing in on the frames sitting on her nose. “Did Madame Kaji ask you to wear those- your glasses?”

“Yes, for my eyes.” She mumbles, finding the topic easily aggravating her.

“You don’t have to wear them if you'd rather not, and…” A finger of yours comes up, untucking a curl of her locks from their neat place. “You can wear your hair like this. It’s how you had it last night, too. You seemed more comfortable.”

Since when has anyone like you ever cared about the comfort of someone below you? She opens her mouth to speak, maybe even say some sort of gratitude, but you’re already flitting away from her. You’re eager, waving her to and fro every corner of your room. Trinkets on display are taken out of their designated place and into her palms, each one connected to a story. You talk.

You talk, and that loneliness once again bubbles, showing it’s soft underbelly to the skies.

“This is my mother.” You open up a locket to reveal an old photo.

To Mizu, the two of you have an uncanny resemblance. It’s almost bizarre, the way each of you is the picture of a man’s ideal wife. Again, the word delicate springs to mind. “She’s stunning.”

You tilt your head, eyes squinting. “And me? My husband says I don’t compare to my mother.” You turn, mimicking your mother’s pose. There’s nerves in your tone, a shadow looming over you as you wait in suspense for her answer.

Fuck. Your own despair would betray you. You’ve unknowingly gotten yourself ensnared in the perfect moment to sink her teeth into you. Your softness would be met only with blades. With her as his wing-woman, you’d be eating out of Taigen’s hand in no time.

Her stare lingers on you. “The Count says–”

“You’ve met him?”

“What?” She stutters, blinking rapidly. “I mean, my… aunt met him. She used to nanny him, so I’ve just heard things from her.”

“So, what did he say about me then?” Your eyes hold an expression of curiosity, maybe even a tinge of hope.

“He lays awake at night thinking of you. In bed.” She tacks on the last part of her sentence as an extra measure.

There’s a brief flash of a smirk upon your face before you speak. “In bed…” You trail off, gaze landing on her one shoeless foot. “And what happened there?”

When she recalls the events to you of her losing her shoe, you click your tongue, sighing. You reach out a hand to take her by the arm, but remember her warning about never grabbing her. Instead, she herself holds out her arm for you, rolling her eyes. Guiding her over to a large closet, you open the two doors, displaying your wide collection of shoes.

“Take a pair, please.” You indicate which ones would fit her. “It’s not like I’m allowed to go anywhere, so someone should get some use out of them.”

Mizu, uncertain, takes the plainest pair out of the ones you’ve shown her. They’re simple and black, seemingly comfortable enough to do her handmaiden work in.

You seem to be happy with her choice, the way your lips upturn. “You didn’t want any of the flashy expensive pairs?”

She shakes her head, shrugging. “Not my style.”

“Hm,” You look out the window, then shift your gaze to the room’s clock. “I have to go for my husband’s reading. You can stay put, I’ll go alone.”

“It’s pouring out there.” Mizu says, as if you can’t see the state of the weather.

“Come get me at noon, okay?” There’s that smile of yours again– do you have to smile so much?

The door is closed behind you before Mizu gets any sort of goodbye out. Adjusting her glasses, she snorted as her eyes landed on the clock you were looking at before. You’re rich, of course you have the latest inventions at your disposal. It was a handcrafted Western clock made of brass. She wondered who had gifted it to you, were they too trying to get in your good graces? Seduce you? She’s not sure if it mattered, since she– The Count, she corrects herself– would be the one to succeed. Letting out a moan of boredom, she decides to pass her time by looking through your belongings.

The overindulgence of wealth nearly sickens her. Your extravagant kimono collection, sorted by color, the best season to wear them, what obi pairs well with them. She thought that was nauseating until she plucked through the cases of jewelry. Gold, silver, every gem you could imagine existed right here in front of her very eyes. It’s not impossible for her to picture you bathed in their opulence, as the kind of woman that such a fortune suits. Would you ask her to put your earrings on for you? Moreover, would she be tame, tender? Snapping the jewelry box shut, she checks your foreign clock once more.

Noon. With clouds still darkening the sky, she grabbed one of your umbrellas, heading out the door to follow the path you had taken to your husband’s library. Stepping carefully to avoid scuffing her shoes– or, your shoes– in case you’d ask for them back. There was a thin layer of trust she was willing to grant you, but she of all people knew how quickly one could turn. When she makes it to the door of the library, she sits at the entrance.

You’re kneeled on the floor, your husband sitting at the table. He shoots you a questioning glare once his eyes land on Mizu.

“This is my new handmaiden, Mizu.” You’re talking to him, but your eyes stay on the floor, hands neatly in your lap.

Mizu goes to walk inside, before your husband shouts, pointing at a golden snake decoration. It gives her a shock, stepping backwards. She sees you pull a lever in the corner of the room, bringing down a grated gate.

“You may not cross that barrier!” He sounds fucking deranged, Mizu notes. She also makes the observation of his black tongue. Ink?

Trying to peer through the gaps of the metal, she searches for you. At the lever she saw before, you’re rooted in place. Trembling, in the face of an unhinged man you were forced to call ‘husband’, you looked scared. Fragile. Delicate.

Mizu wondered just how long she could pretend to be picking up the pieces of you until she would have to let them fall and shatter– to dust, to infinitesimal shards no one could see anymore.

a/n: the official chapter 1!! i hope people enjoy and can see where i'm going with mizu's characterization. there's a lot of shuffling i have to do of the plot to make sure i feel it's accurate to mizu. or at least as accurate as it can be in an au. so i hope that it's worth it and people enjoy!! i can't guarantee the quickest publishing rate with chapters, as i'm still figuring out how i want to structure them and they'll probably vary here and there in length. anyway thank you for reading!!

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #bes x reader #bes x you

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sarahsmi13s · 7 months

Text

Just a Little Guidance

whumptober day 6: forced to hurt someone

pairing: tim bradford x reader (oc last name: blake)

characters: tim bradford, y/n blake, zoe andersen, jackson west, john nolan, lucy chen, thane riggs (oc villain)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, blood, fighting, stabbing, mentions of SA, being held captive, forced to hurt someone, forced to hurt partner, crying, quitting, if i missed anything please please please let me know

word count: ~1.8k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

also also, i do want to apologize for getting this up late got distracted while writing it so i finished it later than i had hoped

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary:

You stood in front of Captain Andersen’s desk, hands shaking as you listened to her tell you about everything that would need to happen before you could return to duty.

Tonguing your split lip, you shook your head. Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at your trembling, still blood stained, hands as your shield and gun rested in them

How could they let you back to work after everything that happened? Tim was still in the hospital, you got to leave after just a few days. But what you saw, what you and Tim experienced over those two weeks… you couldn’t trust yourself.

“I-I’m sorry Captain… but I can’t,” you said softly, your bruised and busted hands curling around the items in your them.

She tilted her head, “I’m not sure I understand.”

You sat your shield and gun on her desk, “I’m not coming back… I’m sorry… but I quit.”

Zoe nodded, giving you a sympathetic look as you avoided her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” You shook your head before she was even finished. “No, I’m sorry Captain… but I can’t. I’m quitting, I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry.”

Without giving her a chance to reply, you turned on your heel and left.

You sat curled up in the hospital chair, just staring at Tim’s unconscious form laying there in the bed.

There were words stuck in your throat. It was like they were coming up sideways, choking you before coming up in broken fragments on your tongue.

What the hell could you say? Tim was laying in a hospital bed because of you. You had put him there. An apology just wouldn’t make that go away. Make what you did go away.

You sat in the uncomfortable chair, picking scabs and prodding at bruises as your mind replayed everything. Never giving you a chance to rest or forget what you did.

“I’m sorry, Tim… I’m so so sorry,” you sobbed, looking down at your blood covered hands.

“It’s okay, baby,” Tim winced at the way your hands tried to patch him up from the wounds you had put there that day. “You’re doing this to protect yourself and for us to survive. I’m not mad.”

You shook your head, “I should be stronger than this…”

“Thane is a fucking psycho, do not put this blame on yourself,” he grunted as he sat up. “Hey, look at me.” You sniffled and looked up, “I’m hurting you, Tim. I shouldn’t hurt you, under any circumstance… even this. I should have let him–”“Don’t say that, don’t you dare say that.”

“You were ready to take a bullet for me!”

“Because you don’t deserve to die!”“And you do?!”

You panted a little, “I shouldn’t be hurting you… I don’t want to hurt you.” He grabbed your hand, not caring about his own blood slicking up his hand. “I know that, and I can handle it. They’re coming, I know they are. I can hold out until then.”

“But what if I can’t?”

After that conversation it was eerie silence as you both tried to sleep.

It was hard for you to fall asleep. The copper scent of Tim’s blood on your hands made you sick to your stomach . The substance was sticky and drying to your skin. Thane wasn’t allowing you to wash your hands, letting Tim’s blood dry on your hands in layers.

And when you woke up the next day it was your turn.

You were simply a punching bag. Though Thane would call it a ‘boxing match’. If you won, the next day you wouldn’t have to hurt Tim and you both got a decent meal with fresh water.

But you couldn’t win.

You had gotten close the first few times. But Thane was an ex-Navy SEAL so he could take you down like it was nothing. And as time went on, you got weak. You didn’t have the energy to put up a decent fight and even give yourself hope. The only reason you still attempted was to keep Tim safe.

That night you sat on the floor with your head down and an arm clutching your side as your ribs ached.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. Tim grunted as he turned to look at you, “Why are you sorry?” You sniffled, “I can’t win…” “You’re not supposed to win. He just likes to give you hope…”

“I can’t keep doing this Timmy… hurting you, I can’t…”

“If you don’t-”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not going to kill you… I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond and just got in your bed and tried to sleep.

The next morning, Thane woke you up with gentle caresses on your face.

“Time to wake up,” he said gently, pulling you up and to your feet. “C’mon we have a big day ahead of us.”

You whimpered as he pulled you over to a table, gun pressed to your lower back. “Pick your first weapon.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over, “No.”

Thane growled and pulled harshly on your hair, making you look up at him. “You pick or I do, I won’t tell you again.” The gun digs into your back, “And you won’t like what I pick.”

You gritted your teeth as he pulled your hair harder, “I’m done playing your game. Shoot me.”

“Y/N, it’s okay…” Tim said, but his words were breathy. “I-I can take it.”

“You hear that? He can take it,” Thane smirked before kissing your forehead. “Pick up the knife.”

“I said, no.”

He growled before slamming your face down on the table.

Tim looked away, jaw clenched as you cried out a little. You don’t blame him, you’d look away too.

This position hadn’t been unfamiliar.

Often after those boxing matches, Thane would use your weak state to release other frustrations.

So you just closed your eyes and braced yourself.

“Oh look at you,” he cooed, his hand rubbing your back. “Mmmm you’ve learned. But right now isn’t about us. It’s about you and Tim. So pick up the knife or I will fuck you as you look your boyfriend in the eyes. Pick. It. Up.”

“Pick up the knife, Y/N…”

“Okay! Okay…”

Thane smirked and pulled you back up to stand. “Good girl.”

Your hand shook as you wrapped your fingers around the blade’s handle. The thought of turning and plunging it into your capture’s stomach flashed in your mind but you knew better. You weren’t fast enough and his trigger finger was quick.

Eyes filling with tears, Thane guided you forward.

“Stab him.”

Your eyes widened and you turned your head to face him. “W-what?”

“You heard me, stab him.”

“That wasn’t-”

“Do it or I'll shoot him in the head.”

You closed your eyes, sobbing as your hands shook violently. “It’s okay Y/N. It’s gonna be okay,” Tim reassured, kissing the top of your head.

But you didn’t believe him.

When it was just cuts or burns, it was easier to believe that he would be okay. But you could see that he was weak. He was shaking from blood loss and he could barely keep his eyes open. His voice was tired and breathy so he desperately tried to put authority in it.

But it wasn’t working.

You shook your head, crying openly as you brought up the knife.

He gritted his teeth and braced himself as you found a spot on his torso and pushed the tip of the blade in.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you whispered tearfully, pulling the knife back out.

You watch horrified as blood leaks out of the new wound and down his side. You had hurt him, again. It made you feel sick.

Suddenly, Thane’s right in your ear, his eyes on the bare half inch of blood on the blade.

“Oh, come on now. Don’t waste my time,” he growled. He wrapped his arms around you and put his hands on top of yours.

“No, no please,” you begged through your tears, trying to fight him.

But your resistance was used in Thane’s favor as he used your combined force to plunge the knife into Tim’s stomach.

You gasped, feeling the sickening warm feeling of fresh blood coating your hands.

Tim couldn't hold back his shout of agony, gritting his teeth as tears came to his eyes.

Thane leaned in, laughing in your ear as you sobbed, “Look at that, seems like all you needed was just a little guidance.”

You covered your mouth, smearing blood on your face as your eyes stayed unmoving from the knife handle. You could have collapsed to the floor in a sobbing heap if Thane hadn’t had arms around you.

“Ooooh not so fast there Y/N. One’s not going to cut it, sweetheart. Take it out and do it again.”

When you hesitated, Thane took your hands and wrapped them around the handle, “Take it-”

“LAPD DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR.”

You sobbed in relief as Thane turned to who you recognized to be John Nolan, Bishop’s rookie.

“Put your weapon down and kick it over to me.”

Thane followed his instructions, smart enough to know that he was cornered.

You held Tim’s face, “It’s gonna be okay baby. They’re here, just like you said they would be.”

Tim had been unconscious when you said that, finally succumbing to the pain.

“Officer Blake?”

You jumped at the call of your name, being pulled from your memories as you looked up to see the three rookies. Jackson was the one to address you.

“You don’t have to call me that anymore Officer West…”

He nodded and swallowed, “Right we’re out of uni-”

“No, I quit… I’m not an officer anymore.”

The rookies’ eyes widened and they shared a look when your eyes moved to Tim.

“But you’re great at your-”

You cut John off, bitterness in your tone, “If I was good at my job he wouldn’t be in this bed…”

You took a breath, finally letting yourself touch him and grabbing Tim’s hand. “I should have been stronger…”

“Thane’s a psychopath, who knows what situation we would be in had you held out longer,” Lucy tried, watching your glass eyes as they looked over Tim. “That doesn’t make you a bad cop…”

“I don’t trust myself… and being a good team requires trust. I can’t go back out onto the street if I do not trust myself, that’s how people get hurt.”

You shook your head, letting it fall between your shoulders. “It took just a little guidance and I plunged a knife into the man I love…”

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #vinny's rainy day records #whumptober 2023 #whumptober day 6 #ailesswhumptober2023 #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford whump #the rookie #whump #angst #sarahsmi13s

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cheezbites · 7 months

Text

Dating König PT.2

✎: couldn’t get enough of my husband so here’s part twoo🥹!! (part one linked here)

♡Summary: Headcanons of dating König PT.2

*+:｡.｡<3｡.｡:+*

Bf!König would bounce his knee whenever he felt anxious - another one of his harmless, repetitive habits. He felt helplessly cold and restricted when things get too overwhelming; bouncing his knee was superficially warming him up. He doesn’t even realise he does it at times as he’s too occupied by thinking about the overflowing emotions.

That was until you steadied a gentle, reassuring hand on his shaky knee. Only one of his trembling body parts could easily decipher how the rest of him felt - pressured, distracted and stressed. He found himself stopping - like you were some medicine that instantly cured an excruciating headache. You warmly smiled at him, making eye contact. His gaze lingered on your hand for a while, like you miraculously calmed an uncontrollable sea with your delicate fingertips. He’s rarely ever been handled so divinely, especially being in the military. His frown and previously tense muscles almost instantly vanished and transitioned into a grateful smile as he looked at you. You were so warm and gentle to him. He wants to feel this electric dopamine kick over and over again, he doesn’t plan on ever parting from it - parting from you. There was a euphoric comfort in your touch.

“‘You okay?” you asked, your tone ever so sweet and genuine.

“’m okay now, Liebling.”

Bf!Konig loved your hugs, he’s so large and muscular in comparison to you. You loved engulfing in his scent and warmth, especially after stressful days at work. It boosts your mood almost instantly knowing you have a human teddy bear at home to return to. You remained glued to him, melting into his touch - skin to skin. He could be minding his business as he’s laying in bed and you’re suddenly crawling on top of him and wrapping your arms around him. Knowing you have him (and his godsent figure) made your heart so content.

He loves knowing you love him.

Feeling sad? Cuddles. Feeling happy? Cuddles. Bored? Cuddles. His heartbeat against yours is to live and die for. You were already used to feeling him whenever you’re feeling sad; his arms wrapping around you, his head resting on your neck as he comfort you, his heart beat and warmth against yours.

Bf!Konig saved a cat from a high tree, he was so gentle in doing so, too - reassuringly cooing praises and reaching his arms out to catch them. The cat gradually gave in and trusted him like they knew him their whole life. His height most definitely has perks that you swoon over. You had an unexpected bond over cats, too. You never saw him being a cat person, but it works.

You sent each other pictures of cats you spot when you’re out and about to mutually obsess over how cute they are. He’d most definitely have an almost eery talent of spotting any cat’s breed with no effort.

Y/N: This one’s a cutie, so skinny tho :(( they’re prolly starving

König: Siamese’s are very thin kittens so they just look xtra skinny when hungry😢

Y/N: This is the 8th time this week…

Y/N: nerd.

(König ❤️ reacted your message).

Bf!König is used to the contradictory pet names you give him, they’re all so sweet and girly, opposing his tough and rugged experiences where he’d endure ruthless and boisterous battle fields like it’s nothing. He never admits to the butterflies in his stomach to the sound of your voice calling him sunflower, sugar or sweetie.

That was until you made them satirically cheesy as you ask him for favours:

“My honey sugar sunflower baby bear,” you called, sickly sweet, grinning at him.

“Hm?”

You were genuinely surprised he even replied to that - you thought he’d just ignore you until you dropped these nicknames and addressed him properly - but he was already used to your shenanigans.

“Can you get my phone?”

“Sure,”

“Thank you honey bun sugar muffin,” you replied, the pet names easily rolling off your tongue like they were just meant for König.

He only scoffed at your teasing and made a poor attempt at hiding his smile before standing up to get your phone.

Bf!König is so considerate with his gifts. If there’s anything you’ve been raving about or if you stared at something for too long as you were shopping together it’ll be delivered right to you in the next 2-3 business days. He’s also really observant about your likes, dislikes and oddly specific things you’re infatuated with. You smiled from ear to ear and felt irrepressibly giddy each time he buys you gifts or spoils you. As you wore whatever he got you, you’d think about him each and every single time, realising that you’re the luckiest girl in the world.

Bf!König was destined to be a chef. He gets so passionate when he’s telling you about some recipe he’ll try for dinner or when anything food related is bought up. You’d tag along in the kitchen as he taught you all the nifty tips and tricks. The nights which would always be most fun, intimate and undeniably delicious is when you guys cooked dinner together.

His speciality is making deserts, which is perfect for your sweet tooth.

Bf!König is so good with children, either when it came to entertaining or colouring with them - they’re always drawn to König, despite how they think he’s scary at first. Your little cousin had to stay at yours for the night and they bonded so quickly.

At first, she was admittedly intimidated and intrigued by him. She had to crane her neck up but to meet his gaze, like many others when they first meet König.

But upon the ice being broken, they were baking cute little cupcakes together as she received piggybacks whilst she giggled to her heart’s content. He gave her wholesome, exclusive nicknames like ‘Prinzessin’. It went from her shooting him unsure looks to them being the best of friends.

Your face flushed so hard as you watched them. In their shared smiles, you found an endless joy.

Bf!König gradually opened up to you about his work life. He told you about his scars. Either how he got them, the treatment, the pain and whatever else he shared with you.

You’d remind him if it’s an uncomfortable topic for him then he absolutely doesn’t have to talk about it. “Work stuff can be work stuff, it doesn’t have be discussed if you really don’t wanna,” you’d remind him, ensuring you’re crossing no boundaries. Yet he insisted on it, he trusts you. It was all like a slow burn - your love was like a slow burn; the beautiful blazing fire at the end was all too worth it. Knowing he could trust you with something so delicate and harsh made you feel a mix of ecstatic emotions you couldn’t phrase.

Your fingers gently glided against his scarred back, feeling the vibration of his voice and the light indents that lingered on his skin. He faintly hitched each time you touched him; like he was trembling under and melting into your touch. It’s the moments like this that you could infinitely relish in.

He’d reveal more and more in your ‘secret scar seshes’. It felt rewarding knowing he could put so much trust into you, letting you into his sacred double life.

Bf!König realises how deeply in love with you he is whenever you’re passionately raving about something or laughing. He’s drawn to your voice, like it’s a song he wouldn’t mind leaving on repeat for the whole week. To him. it was like a hug to the ears. He found happiness in your passion. He didn‘t mind being the listener of most conversations. He absorbed every word you spoke like you were a little podcast he could tune into.

You noticed the way he looks at you as you spoke - you tried your hardest to not get nervous and fumble over your words or stutter despite how long you guys have been dating. You’d act like a coy teen who’s talking to their crush for the first time whenever you picked up on how observant he was. You tend to unknowingly repeat things, and with the same eagerness as from the first time you told him - how could he ever want to take that away from you? The last thing he’d want to do is rid the bright energy in your demeanour and tone, all from just talking about something you’re very keen on.

He just knew whenever your sentence started with “Oh yeah, did I tell you about…” it’s most probably something you’ve told him. He’d act oblivious with an almost instinctive “No, I don’t think so… tell me,” with his best interest and ears that seemingly perked just to hear you talk all over again.

Bf!König went shopping with you at some boujie dress shop. It was mostly for window shopping, but if you really liked any dress he wouldn’t hesitate to buy it for you.

You took one to the changing room, just to try it on. It delightfully draped down your body, tight in all the right places. The colour complimented your features so much - in addition to the risqué slit that became more evident whenever you walked.

“You ready…?” you asked, taking a final spin in the mirror.

“Of course, Schatz.”

You walked out of the changing room, finding König patiently perched on a chair. The dress faintly brushed against the floor with every step, making you hold up the hem of it in your hands like those elegant princesses. (In which you looked like one to him).

He paused for a second, like he was trying to catch his breath, savouring your every feature. He’s never seen you dressed in such graceful clothing, let alone a dress that’s just otherworldly and looks as if it’s been made for you and you only. You shyly smiled because of how affectionate his gaze was. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his wallet.

“No, König,” you interjected, frowning. He looked at you expectedly, slightly confused.

“What?” he asked, confusion being the only thing in his tone. You shook your head at him before lowering his wallet - an indirect rejection to him spoiling you.

“Look at you!” He began, evidently growing more and more confused and in love by the second, “You look…” he paused, like he was trying to find the right words, like your beauty was indescribable, “gorgeous.” He pulled his wallet back out in protest, making you tut at him before hugging him in the tightest embrace and smiling like an idiot.

Bf!König is used to you sleeping on him. It always starts off with you innocent resting your head on his lap as you watch TV.

“I’m just resting my eyes,” you groaned, voice heavy with sleep. He didn’t think much of it and just let you do your thing.

And not even five seconds later, you were using his warmth as a blanket and his thighs as a pillow before dozing off.

“Y/N?” he called your name ever so softly, checking if you were genuinely asleep. You’ve had troubles sleeping this week so your rested state made him furrow his eyebrows in shock. A few seconds of silence passed, and he found himself smiling. He didn’t mind you sleeping on him - he actually enjoyed it.

He stayed with you for a minute or two to relish in your presence before carrying you to bed, tucking you in and softly planting a kiss on your cheek.

Bf!König never fails to nonverbally bring up the size difference, from your clothes, hands, (don’t get me started on the hands) or anything, really. There will always be a size difference.

When he drives, he’d always put his hand onto your thigh and encompass your hand around his. You flutter inside at how easily he effortlessly shrinks everything and anything. You could be wearing one of his t-shirts that fit him, but they’d look bigger on your figure.

Bf!König noticed your hairbands would usually be scattered around the house. Instead of returning them to you, he’d keep them. He caught sight of a black, elastic ring on the kitchen counter, swiftly grabbed it and word it like it was a promise ring. It was so precious to him, he’ll probably keep it on until it disintegrates off his wrist.

“Have you seen my hairband?” You asked, frantically entering and exiting rooms and misplacing things to find it.

“Nope,” König replied, rolling his sleeve up to hide the same exact one you were looking for. You had a countless amount of other headbands, but you just randomly clung onto that specific one.

“Ugh, I have to get another one now.”

»»----------►Masterlist

Dating Ghost

Dating Price

Dating Soap

Dating Gaz

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hotchnerxo · 29 days

Text

Make a difference

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader Words: 1.8k Summary: You're feeling insignificant and overwhelmed. Aaron's making sure you never forget your worth. Warnings: Anxiety and some intrusive thoughts. Nothing major, a bit of hurt/comfort and fluff A/N: This can be read separately, but also if you're familiar with my 'The chances you take' fic, this is set between chapters 13 and 14. This is dedicated to everyone who’s been having a hard time lately and days are a struggle. I am very proud of you <3

Join my taglist here

~~~

You watch steam rise from the coffee you’re pouring into your thermos. It’s probably your sixth cup of today, but you fill it anyway. Once satisfied with the amount, you screw back on the purple lid and grasp the mug in your hands. Its warmth is grounding and you admire the watercolor lavenders on its surface. But despite all that, your mind has wandered far off.

You’ve been a part of the team for quite some time now and you couldn’t be happier with the way they have welcomed you into their family. You’re thankful for every single one of them and you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else.

But still, this moment feels off. It’s overwhelming and tiring; it’s confusing. All of the sudden there’s a harsh voice in your head screaming that you don’t belong. That no one would notice if you just walked away from this. You’re not sure whose voice it is in your mind, but it is eerie. Thoughts like this have been with you for a long time, but whenever things get overwhelming, your self doubt gets stronger.

You’ve come to lean on the kitchenette counter, nursing your warm coffee between your hands. The bullpen is loud, but blurring in your mind. There’s no conversation to follow, just a lot of sounds coming from all around; chatter, typing, rustling paper and so on. But the racing of your thoughts keeps you too busy from paying attention to things around you. You couldn’t even hear the footsteps coming closer to you.

“Left some for me?” he asks, but gets no reaction from you. Few seconds later you hear your name being called which distracts your mental spiral.

“Huh?” you hear yourself asking instinctively. How long had Hotchner been standing next to you? You have no idea, but when you turn to look at him, he already has concern written all over him. Apparently he’s been there long enough.

“Left any coffee for me?” he repeats his question, giving you another moment to get your thoughts together. Your attention moves towards the pot of coffee, just to see there’s only a drop left in it.

The thoughts of self blame start to raise their head again. There is sort of an unspoken rule in the office: whoever takes the last cup of coffee, needs to make a new one. That way there’s always something for the next person coming in. You’ve just now broken that rule and the guilt of it is strong. Way stronger than what it should be. It’s such a minor thing, but it feels more like you’ve majorly screwed up and should be fired on the spot.

“Sorry! I’ll make a new pot, it will be just a few minutes” you apologize quickly, interrupting your brain from catastrophizing the situation.

“It’s alright. I think I’ll be fine” he reassures with a gentle smile. Your tone must have been more panicky than you thought as he does his best to diffuse your anxiety so quickly. “Here, let me help you” he says softly and goes to grab a filter and the coffee grounds before you get to them. You thank him quietly as you fill the machine with more water. You watch him measure the grounds and within a few seconds, your mistake no longer exists.

Your cup is back in your hands and your eyes follow the man as he puts the ingredients back into the cabinets. You lean to the table, leaving the rest of the office behind you. At some point during the day, he’s taken his suit off and rolled the sleeves of his light blue shirt. The stripes on the shirt are barely noticeable from afar, but you enjoy the small detail.

“You’ve seemed really distracted today” his warm voice brings you back to the present moment. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks before you get to reassure him that you’re fine. He looks sincere and with your time at the bureau, you’ve learned how easy he is to talk to. And ever after the christmas party at Rossi’s a week ago, you’ve craved for his company.

“It’s nothing” you sigh and you both know that isn’t true. But he doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he falls quiet and waits. He waits for you to find the right words to sum up the storm in your mind. “At times I just feel~” you pause, turning your eyes down to your hands. “~I don't know, insignificant”. You can feel his eyes burning on your skin, but you’re too afraid to look back up.

He wants to say something, but he closes his mouth before any words come out. He can tell there’s still something else that you haven’t been able to word yet.

“I just don’t feel like I make a difference” you continue. Few seconds go by until you gain courage to look back up towards him. It was his turn to fall deep into his thoughts, trying to find something meaningful to say. You see him fidget with his left hand fingers, which you’ve learned he does when he’s nervous or carefully thinking something through.

“You know” he begins after a moment of consideration. His gaze lifts up again and only the way he looks at you makes all of the self doubt fade away. He doesn’t need words, his presence alone is all you need to calm down, but he continues nevertheless “when Ella was over for a sleepover with Jack, she asked me what my favorite color is”. You’re not really sure how that connects to the subject at hand, but you’re curious. “but before I could answer, she really wanted to guess. After some time of thinking, her whole face lit up and says purple. She was so sure about it and there was no way I could deny that”.

“Why are you telling me this?” you ask and take a sip of your coffee for the first time

There it is again; the small smile that you’re sure lights up your whole day. You love the way his whole stoic exterior melts away: his brow softens and a warm sparkle appears in his eyes again. And when he smiles, you can see dimples forming on his cheeks.

“I’m telling you this because after that, everytime I see the color purple anywhere, it makes me smile. And it makes me think of how proud and happy she was” his tone is so soft and sweet it almost makes you tear up after all the anxiety “What I’m trying to say is, that no one is insignificant. Everyone makes a difference, even with such little things that we ourselves aren’t even able to tell”.

Both of you fall quiet for a moment. It’s as if your eyes are so drawn to each other and you both forget everything else around you.

His voice lowers down to a whisper as he continues “I could list a million things you’ve done that have permanently changed my life. How a joke you told three weeks ago still makes me smile whenever I think about it. Or the way you sing your favorite songs when they play in the radio while driving you home” the affection is so thick in his voice, it’s almost hard to believe. The way he speaks makes something click inside of you, like pieces of a puzzle finally falling into place when just moments ago it all seemed a mess and meaningless. “and trust me, the meaning you have in so many people’s lives goes way beyond words. Think of the way Ella looks in the mirror every morning, feeling like a princess because her mother complimented her. Or your dad being grateful you brought in the mail on your way to your parents’, just so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the end of the driveway when his knee is acting up again. Or a victim in a case, who you helped calm down from a panic attack”.

He lists a few more things and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You didn’t realize that the people around you actually notice these things. You didn’t think they’d hold such importance to anyone.

“What I’m trying to say” he adds almost shyly after having rambled on for way longer he intended to “your impact is everywhere. Just like fingerprints. Your importance can’t be wiped away clean from all the kindness you’ve shared in your life”.

It’s not often you’re left speechless. But you no longer can find words to match your gratitude. If you were anywhere but the office, you’d hug him. As you’re about to open your mouth to thank him, you hear steps coming closer to the kitchenette breaking the moment between the two of you.

“Does the line start here?” Rossi asks from beside you “For the coffee?” he clarifies as both of you give him puzzled looks. Your conversation had made both of you forget where you are and for how long. Coffee no longer was a priority, and you hadn’t even noticed it being done.

Aaron clears his throat and goes to grab a new dark blue mug from the shelf “Yeah, one moment” he says and fills his own cup before offering to fill up the one in Rossi’s hand.

“Did the M.E. reports from the Seattle case come in yet?” Rossi asks, forcing the unit chief to turn his attention back to his duties.

“Yes, it’s on my desk. I’ll be right there” Hotchner’s tone is back to his normal at-the-office voice and you can tell he’s forced to get his focus back on his to-do list, no matter how he wants to stay in the moment with you as long as possible. David nods and leads the way. Aaron follows his friend a few steps behind but stops once he’s by your side.

His hand raises to your arm, landing on it softly just for a few seconds. His thumb rubs soft circles on the fabric of your sleeve and his eyes fall to find yours. There are a million things he wants to tell you, an apology for the interruption being the strongest one. He wants to tell you that his door is always open for you and he’s only ever a text or a phone call away. He wishes to tell you just how much you mean to him and to everyone else around you.

But instead of saying a word, he smiles at you softly. As he turns to leave and continue his workday, his hand lingers on your arm for as long as he’s able to. He goes to follow Rossi to his office but you swear you can still feel his touch on your skin and it makes every last bit of your anxiety melt away.

You wish he knows just how much he’s changed your life for the better, just by being himself.

@ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslut @itsmytimetoodream @marvel-marauders @mintphoenix @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @louderfortheback @newlydevouthotchgirl @pandorasdreamings @anlin2058 @alexxavicry

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotchnerxo fic

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general-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Don’t Trust Him. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: With Rhonda, Charlie and Wally trapped in the fallout shelter, Y/N is their only way out.

Word Count: 2,727

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings - Violence, Swearing?

A/N - So I know technically the ghosts don’t bleed but I felt like it was slightly better in this situation if they did so let’s just pretend they do. I also apologise for how rushed this is, I really just wanted to get something posted.

Before I died, my knowledge of ghosts was based on what I’d seen in movies. Completely fictional. Turns out there is no way of communicating with the living, nor any way of possession or torment. Not even a way of leaving the place you died. Unless you’re the exception. Which in my case, turns out I am the exception. It’s funny, in life I was very much average, no different from the other thousands of kids attending Split River High. Though in death, I’m powerful. Able to leave the place that the others are stuck, able to speak with the living if only for short periods of time. Mr Martin tells me I’m a vessel. That I should be careful because other ghosts may attempt to take advantage of my unique skills. However, I haven’t had any issues so far. In fact, I’ve done my best to help those trapped here to heal old wounds. Allowing them to forgive.

I’ve been here since 2007, over a decade and yet I’m still the newest ghost. Rhonda died in the sixties, Dawn the seventies, Wally the eighties and Charlie the nineties. Not that I mind, as much as we’re a weird bunch, we’re friends. Hell, I consider them family at this point as we have done nothing but support one another since dying. Wally even more so. He made a point of helping me get settled when I died. Sticking by me through all my meltdowns and the struggles I faced when coming to terms with the powers that I held. It’s safe to say we grew close.

So close in fact, that we’ve been dating for the past seven years. Contrary to popular belief, Wally is fairly shy and so it did take a good few years before either of us dared to confess our feelings. I can’t complain though, we’d been going to homecoming together for years at that point and as we lay on the field gazing up at the stars, he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. What followed was a pretty eventful night fuelled by passion and desire. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Which brings me to the present day, returning from my trip to the grocery store, I wander aimlessly around the hallways. Hoping to find Rhonda, Charlie and Wally, however, they are nowhere to be found. I must admit, the empty hallways are pretty eerie, with Dawn gone the air feels heavier. She brought a certain lightness to the school that can’t be replaced.

Entering the basement, I find myself swinging the shopping bag slightly. Attempting to give myself a confidence boost by acting as though it’s a happy, cheery place to be. Despite residing here for all the years, I’ve never once found myself in the basement, so as much as I am creeped out, I do use this opportunity to be nosy and explore everything on the shelves. Nothing peaks my interest though. Dusty old paint pots and garden tools aren’t exactly my idea of entertainment.

At that moment I begin to hear yells and shouts for help. My head spins in the direction it’s coming from and only then do I notice the huge metal door tucked into the wall. Hesitantly stepping towards it, the shouts get louder, pleading for help. The voices sounding very familiar to those of my friends.

“Wally?” I ask, feet pushing me towards the door a lot faster as I realize who is yelling. “Rhonda? Charlie? Is that you?”

Pushing on the door, I try to move the latch but for whatever reason it is completely sealed shut. No movement whatsoever. It doesn’t matter which way I attempt to pull or twist, the latch isn’t budging. My brows furrow in confusion as I try to work out how this could have happened. The door is old but not old enough to become so stuck that it is impossible to open.

“Y/N!” Wally calls out, relief evident in his voice. “Y/N, we’re completely stuck, the back hatch is locked too.”

“It’s okay. I’m here, I’ll get you out.” I tell them, still pulling on the door, though my eyes shift around the room, hoping to find a crowbar or any sort of object that may help me.

“Y/N, be careful! You can’t trust him!” Rhonda shouts, her voice panicked, the first time I’ve heard her sound genuinely scared.

“Trust who?”

Before my question is answered, the basement door swings open and I see a shadow looming over me at the top of the stairs. The shopping bag slips from my hand, glass bottles smashing against the floor as I realize who Rhonda was warning me about. Mr Martin’s friendly demeanor is gone, appearing menacing and dangerous as he makes eye contact with me. Shuffling backwards slightly, I keep my eyes on him. Trying to calculate his next move.

“Y/N, do you remember our little chat?” Mr Martin asks, slowly descending the stairs with his hands clasped together, truly looking like a villain.

“I’m not sure which chat you’re talking about, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

Each step Mr Martin takes towards me, I take a step back, putting as much space between us as I possibly can. Unable to contain it, I feel my body trembling, the sounds of my friends pounding on the door simply heightens my nerves. Their shouts fill me with dread and I do my best to remain calm, to remain observant. Mr Martin feels like a predator, stalking me as if I’m prey. Was he always like this? Were we all fooled by his supportive teacher act?

“A short while ago, I talked to you about your uniqueness.” He starts, throwing a sharp glare towards the metal door that my friends are trapped behind. “You told me that you wouldn’t use your gifts to benefit others. Clearly you are not a girl of your word.”

He talks slowly, I’m assuming to get some sort of reaction out of me. If I react on impulse, he is in control. I can’t let that happen. If he gains control of this situation, there is no way I can help Wally and Rhonda and Charlie.

“I don’t think I’ve really used it to benefit anyone other than myself.”

“Peach iced tea. Is that not Rhonda’s favorite beverage? Plus, I know for a fact that pack of jelly doughnuts is for Wally.” Mr Martin points out, reaching down to the shopping bag on the floor and rummaging through it to see its contents.

“If I’m going to the store, I’m going to pick up their favorite things. That’s called being a decent person.” I respond, feeling my back touch the shelves that line the walls as I continue to step away from Mr Martin. “They’ve been stuck here long enough, they deserve good things.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and ultimately feels incredibly forced. Continuing to make his way towards me, I know he thinks he has me cornered. He thinks I am trapped in the room with him. Little does he know he has made one major mistake. If there is one thing about me, it is that I am insanely loyal and I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. Right now, those people are trapped behind that stupid metal door, and there is nothing I won’t do to get them out.

“You know Mr Martin, I think you’re just jealous.”

“Y/N what the fuck are you doing?” Wally shouts, the banging on the door becoming more frequent as I sense he is becoming increasingly more panicked.

“Jealous?” Mr Martin questions, an expression of confusion on his face as he obviously didn’t expect me to steer the conversation in this direction. “Jealous of what Y/N?”

My hand snakes behind me at a snail’s pace, ensuring that he doesn’t catch the movement and spoil my plan. I just need to stall slightly, catch him off guard and then if all goes well, I should have them out in no time. Then I can stop worrying, especially about Wally. I know he’s only on the other side of that door but it feels like he is one million miles away.

“Well, you’re the only teacher here. Stuck with a bunch of teenagers, must be hard right? I’m sure you feel isolated and alone. Especially when one such teenager has powers that you can only dream of having. Powers that she uses to get her friends and boyfriend their favorite snacks or new books and films.”

“You think I’m jealous that you use your gifts on something so trivial?” Mr Martin questions, stepping towards me once more so we are practically inches apart. “Trust me Y/N, if I had the gifts that you hold, I would be using them to guide myself to the light. To cross over. Not you though, you’re just a stupid little girl that wastes talent on a bunch of people that do not care about you and are only using you for your gifts. I mean do you really think Wally would be sticking around with you if you weren’t able to bring him little treats? Though I suppose you did spread your legs for him the moment you arrived so who really knows.”

With a sigh, my hand takes a firm hold of the paint pot handle. “I really wish you hadn’t just said that.”

With a sharp swing I aim the paint pot directly at Mr Martin’s head, hitting him right above his ear. A pained groan escapes his mouth as he is knocked off balance, planting his hand against the wall so that he doesn’t fall to the ground. Sure, he can’t die twice, but I’m certain that I can at least knock him out for a while. As I go to swing the pot again, his forearm blocks my blow. Sending the pot clattering to the floor.

“Well now I’m angry.” He states, giving me no time to react as he grabs the end of one of the smashed glass bottles swiping at me with the sharp end.

Despite finding reassurance in the fact that I can’t die twice, I still wince at the feeling of the glass drag directly across my cheek. Cut opening, I feel the blood dripping down my cheek and in the one moment that I reach up to hold my wound, Mr Martin strikes again. Blunt end of the bottle hitting the back of my head sending me crashing to the ground. Grunting softly as I hit the floor with a thud.

“Y/N!” Wally bellows, worry laced in his voice and guilt floods through me as I hate to put him through this. “Y’N be careful, please. Y/N!”

Rhonda and Charlie are shouting as well, pain in their voices as they are evidently stressed out not knowing what is going on and only being able to hear the sounds of our fight. It must be hard having no indication of who is winning.

Flipping myself so that I am no longer facing the ground, I watch as Mr Martin stands over me. Dropping himself into a crouch, his fingers brush a stray hair out of my face. A wicked smirk settled on his face.

“Such a pretty face, too bad nobody else will get to see it.”

A rush of energy pulses through my body and with all the strength I can muster, I manage to stretch my arm out to grab the paint pot. Repeatedly hitting the teacher over the head with it and I feel little splatters of blood coat my face and body as he collapses to the floor. When I see no sign of movement, I begin to search through his jacket pockets. Whether that’s for a key or a key code, I’m not too sure. Though, I’m hoping when I find it, I’ll know.

With just my luck, a key slips into my hand, just in time for me to watch his body disappear as he resets to wherever he died. I’m unsure of how long he will be out and so for now I ignore my injuries focusing on finding any sort of lockbox.

“I’ve got a key. Any idea where it’s supposed to go?” I ask, hoping I can find some sort of answer from the three behind the door.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a little box to the right of the door, just above the ground.” Charlie answers, allowing me to search quickly.

Within no time I have found the box, twisting the key to find a switch which completely resets the lock on the door. This time when I try the door it pushes open with ease and I’m greeted by a swarm of tight hugs. Even Rhonda wraps her arms around me, squeezing slightly.

Wally hangs back, waiting for the other two to finish their greetings first. As soon as he gets the chance, he’s sweeping me off my feet, hugging me so tight that I feel as though my ribs may shatter. He’s twirling me around clearly happy just to see me again, and no doubt to be out of that room.

“I hate to break this up guys but we should probably head off before the evil teacher decides to come and take his revenge on Y/N.” Rhonda states, already beginning to make her way up the stairs.

Once we make it to the library, Wally is immediately all over me. Tending to my wounds as best as he can with the limited medical supplies we picked up from the nurses office on the way. He has a slight frown on his face as he wipes away the blood and I can’t help but place my fingers under his jaw, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips as a way of cheering him up. Yet the frown remains.

“Hey, what’s wrong? We made it out didn’t we?” I ask, cupping his face with my hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“Yeah but I should have been out there to protect you. If I was there you wouldn’t have been hurt. You would never have been in that position.” He tells me, eyes not meeting mine as he speaks and I have a feeling that it’s because he is embarrassed and ashamed that he couldn't do anything.

Smiling softly, my lips press against his forehead, followed by both cheeks, then his nose, chin and lips. As I’m peppering kisses all across his face, he finally begins to crack a slight smile. His hands wrap around my forearms as he tugs me into a slow, heated kiss. Lips moving against mine at a relaxed pace and I find myself pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. He groans quietly, hands moving to carefully pull me onto his lap as we get caught up in the heat of the moment.

“Can you guys please be gross somewhere else?” Rhonda asks, tilting her book down slightly to make sure we hear her.

I giggle as a soft rose blush tints Wally’s cheeks, pink from ear to ear. It’s cute, and he’s the most relaxed I have seen him since leaving the basement.

“Not to kind of spoil the mood, but what do we do about Mr Martin?” I ask, sharing a worried glance between the three other ghosts sitting at the table.

“I mean, we’re already dead, he can’t hurt us.” Rhonda states, a logical answer though I’m sure he’d still find a way to make our lives hell.

“Yeah but he still trapped us and look at Y/N’s face.” Charlie comments, clearly nervous by the entire situation. “No offense.”

“Not to mention he’s been studying us.” Wally adds in, to which he receives a questioning look from me. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“I guess we just avoid him and maybe brush up on exorcisms and ridding ourselves of negative spirits.” I say, smiling at Wally as I feel him reach for my hand under the table.

As eventful as today was, and as scary as today, I’m no longer scared. Mr Martin may be big and tough but I know that the four of us are able to take on anything. Besides with Wally by my side, I know I’m able to accomplish anything.

#wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fic #wally clark imagines #school spirits #school spirits fic #school spirits imagines #rhonda #charlie #mr martin

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mochiroreo · 6 months

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There’s a bite to it

Modern!Eddie Munson x Vampire!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, Blood (not too graphic), blood loss, P in V, fingering, squirting, cream pie, soft smut.

Author’s note: (this is fic NOT beta’d 🥹) Well hello there and welcome! I know, I know its been a while. A lot has been happening these days but thank you for staying! Now starts the drop of my halloween specials, sorry it took this long! As always, Minors go awayyy. This is the first time I’m attempting to write this type of tropes 💀 thank you for reading!💖

“Oh fuck off Gareth! What? You think I’m too “scared” for this dare?” Eddie stomped on the cigarette butt, his black boot squeaked at the pressure.

“No, but I’m just saying you can back out. We’re not gonna tease you for it.” Gareth looked at Jeff, silently asking for help to stop Eddie and just back out. “I mean yeah—“ Jeff started, scratching his nape while he thinks how to persuade Eddie to back out. “Look dude, you heard about the rumours. Some did not come back from entering that creepy mansion for the same reasons, a dare. It was just all for fun.”

Eddie scoffed at Jeff’s reasoning. Yeah, he is a ‘bit’ afraid, but his pride really won’t let him back down from a dare, let alone his friends’ dare. What started as a usual night for hellfire ended up with drinks and other games, resulting to Eddie losing continuously in a rock-paper-scissors game.

He sucked at the game so badly that he was practically the one that dug his own grave to protect his ego, asking for another round before the group decided to give him a dare for losing so much, which is to enter an abandoned mansion in Hawkins that is famous for all the kinds of rumours and urban legends surrounding it. From poltergeists to disappearances to murder. Making Eddie’s friends regret that they have mentioned it to him as a dare.

“I’m fucking getting out of that mansion alive. Jesus, what could happen in just one night?”

“Exactly! There is a LOT that could happen!” Gareth reasoned out, frustratedly gripping his hair. Eddie had the audacity to cackle and grab the bag that he packed for his dare, looking at his friends one last time before flicking his middle finger up to them. “You’re overthinking this. I have my phone with me so I’ll just call you or message if something happens y’know.” Turning around quickly to walk towards the eerie mansion, Eddie gulped. His prideful facade falling off when he faced the mansion. He is now feeling the cold autumn air, the crunching of the leaves as he walk towards the gate without looking back his friends.

If Eddie can hide how scared he is earlier, his sweaty palms and goosebumps can’t hide it now. He knew about the rumours and all the possible occult rituals that apparently happened inside the said mansion, he was such a big fan. But now that he’s in a dare he really don’t want to be in, he can’t help but curse the place for being at Hawkins.

He felt his jeans pockets if he brought his phone and power brick with him, making him sigh in relief when he got both. He really cannot afford to leave something, knowing how scared he already is. The old metal gate creaked, the wind blowing a tad bit harsher when he pushed himself in which made his skin pricked with goosebumps. He immediately walked inside, not having a single moment with the broken angel statues near the huge fountain at the garden (he watched too much Doctor who, thats for sure.)

Eddie let out a sigh, before looking around the place. He expected the mansion to be run downed, broken glasses,debris or blood everywhere. Maybe even cigarette butts and empty caps of syringe. But no, the place is immaculate and in pristine condition. The drapes where carefully folded, the sofa looking as if its new. Everything was black though, and he is liking how this mansion is styled.

He looked around before deciding to explore the second floor. He carefully walked upstairs as if someone can hear him, his boots creating a dull thud sound in every step on the carpeted floor. Eddie was met with a long hallway and dozens of doors scattered throughout yet he was intimidated with the one at the end, the biggest one that seems to be calling him. His eyes landed on a series of painting adorning the hall, a portrait of a woman that slowly loses her smile as he kept on walking towards the biggest door. It was as if every portrait was a different woman. A different nose, lips, eyes— as if all the artists that is trying to paint whoever the woman is does not know how to draw.

Eddie grabbed the brass knobs of the massive double doors, opening it slowly. His eyes twinkled when he finds out its a well-kept bedroom. The fact flying over his head, not thinking that someone must be living here for this to be this clean. Sighing, he took his leather jacket off and draped it on the chair, putting his bag down as well. He removed his shoes excitedly before plopping down at the soft mattress. “Holy shit. Why are people afraid of this house, this is such an awesome place to live in.” Eddie took a deep breath before sighing in relief. He yawned, not noticing the pair of red eyes that seemed to be watching him ever since he stepped inside.

“Well, it is indeed an awesome place to live in. I try to keep it clean. Have I done a good job?”

“Oh yeah you’ve done a won—“ if his eyes were closed earlier, now its as wide as saucers as he look around to find where the voice came from, before landing on the chair near the vanity mirror. Eddie gasped, his mind turning into a mush and his heart beating so fast that he knows its trying to jump out of his rib cage. “U-uhm— I just got dared—“ he tried to explain, sitting himself up on your bed. You looked at his nervous expression and find his stuttering adorable which made you laugh loudly. Eddie stopped explaining himself when he heard you, finally taking the time to look at you more closely.

It took him no time to notice that you are the woman in all of those portraits, yet they did not do you justice. You are ethereal, he thinks. Maybe that’s why the artists kept on changing things cause they cannot fully grasp your existence and just how beautiful you are?

You’ve noticed that he had gone quiet, making you tilt your head. Its been a while since you’ve had a human in your house. Have you already taken it too far? You leaned in a tad bit, moving the chair closer towards the bed. “Are you alright? Perhaps I’ve taken it too far?” You asked him, eyes tracing every inch of his face and oh. Oh. He looks downright delectable and delicious. Also adorable with how he is openly ogling your whole body. Dressed in a white dress that hugs your curves in a sinful way, not too thin yet not enough to hide all the things Eddie wanted to see.

You leaned forward, resting your head on your palms. The scent of Eddie wafted throughout the room, your eyes gleaming in delight. He smiles like smoked sandalwood and citrus which was an odd combination but made you more attracted towards him. It has been a while indeed since you had a taste of something that seemed so.. fresh. Eddie noticed the way your eyes raked over him, snapping him out of his desires. “I’m good I’m just trying to explain my situation cause I would really love not to get a lawsuit for breaking in someone’s house— I really thought this was abandoned.” He sat comfortably on your bed, eyes noticing the slightly longer than normal canines when you had given him a toothed smile before looking around your room.

“Well.. that’s what you, humans, say all the time whenever you enter this room and gets caught.” At this time, you have already stood up in front of the corner of the bed where Eddie is. “Said they they are just lost, curious, got dared..” you positioned yourself in between his dangling legs at the edge of the bed, loving how his breath hitched when your body is so close to his crotch, jaw tightening as if he is fighting himself to hold you. “But have you noticed something..” you drawled out the end of your sentence, cocking an eyebrow for him to say his name. “Eddie.. wait what do you mean us humans—?” he whispered. You did not pay any attention to his question, continuing your teasing. “Eddie, what a fitting name for your adorableness. But yes, Eddie, have you noticed something?”

Eddie just continued to stare at you, brown eyes locking in with your red ones, which he just noticed, his face filled with confusion. “If my eyes can’t give it away then- Look at that small vanity mirror, tell me if there is something wrong.” He quickly looked behind you to stare at the said mirror, immediately noticing that you don’t have a reflection. Sirens rang inside his head, yet he cannot move his body to run away from you. He watched enough horror movies to know what type of creature are those that live without a reflection. “V-vampire..?” He muttered, his face slightly paler when you nodded. You used your powers to turn the vanity mirror away, shutting the curtains, making Eddie jolt in shock with how quick the darkness engulfed the room.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden lighting, it wasn’t too dark that he cannot see you, but definitely not bright enough to make him think clearly and think of a plan to escape. Denying inside his head that he is attracted to you. Your cold touch on his cheek made him jump, his hands landing on your hips which made you moan at the warmth. The sound definitely woke Eddie’s cock, and when he tried to remove his hands, you stopped him. “Its okay.. its okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You whispered softly, one hand cradling his cheek to make you look at him upwards while the other plays with his soft,curly hair. You usually don’t promise this to most of the humans that wanders on your house as they always end up being eaten anyway but to him,its different. “God, it’s been a while since I’ve smelled something as good as you. What a bonus that you are also a cure for sore eyes.” You chuckled in delight while Eddie gulped. Your eyes are definitely redder now, yet all Eddie felt was you putting more pressure to his crotch with your thighs while you move closer.

You duck your head, grabbing his nape to expose his neck for your soft,pink lips to latch on which had taken him aback. “Fuck” he muttered under his breath, hands tightening on your hips which made you inhale his scent deeply while sucking his pale skin harshly. “Please.. will you let me have a taste?” You whispered on his skin, trailing wet kisses all over while Eddie is slowly losing control on himself.

God, what did he walked into? Poltergeists, ghost, and cults, they said. Turns out, a fucking vampire lives in the mansion. He is not sure what scared him more, the fact that a vampire might suck him dry and die or the fact that even though he might get suck dry, he does not mind dying in such a way. Not trusting his voice, he gave you a small moan, craning his neck further. You pushed him onto the bed, red eyes now gleaming in delight. Eddie watched you with curiosity, definitely getting harder on his jeans when he watched your fangs grew longer. You leaned down to his neck once again, straddling him with ease.

Your plush thighs trapped him underneath you, hands holding his arms which made him feel trapped and wanted. “It might hurt a little but you’ll enjoy it, I promise you. Thank you for the meal.” Sucking in a breath, Eddie prepared himself before feeling your fangs prick his skin. He held your waist that you are pretty sure will give you bruises, not that you mind. In such a short time, you were completely smitten with how he smells divine and how he looks like he is meant to be with you. And with the taste of his blood, you weren’t sure how to let him go.

His taste was more than what you have expected, smooth and addicting. You sucked harder, blood filling your mouth. The hunger that was asleep for centuries re-igniting inside of you. No one has tasted this good. No one has made you feel intoxicated this way for ages. You almost lost yourself if not for the way Eddie caresses your hips and thighs after his bruising grip, lips forming into a lazy smile as if he is high. He is indeed high. Never had he expected for it to feel this.. good. If he’s going to die this way, might as well go all out, right?

The thought gave Eddie the confidence to moan loudly when he felt you suck harder again. One of his hand move to your back, tracing gentle circles while the other held your nape. “Yes. Take it, take what you think is yours. Does it taste good? I’m happy to give you more.” His words made you swoon, voice low and husky as he urge you to take more of him. Your hips now rutting on his clothed cock which made his eyes roll at the back of his skull. It’s too much for him, he just wants you to continue to use him. You continued to hump him, eager for a different type of release. Unlatching your mouth from his neck and licking it clean to close the wound. Eddie watched you sigh in bliss. His blood smeared at the side of your lips, which you licked, making sure you’re not wasting a drop of blood.

“Fuck, sweetheart—“ he choked out in pleasure, guiding his hands to your breasts and giving it a tentative squeeze. and giving it a squeeze. You gave him a toothy grin, retracting your fangs. You traced his bottom lip with your thumb, only for him to suck with while maintaining eye contact. The action made something snapped inside you, precautions flying out of the room. You slowly unraveled yourself, taking off your dress, your body now bare for Eddie. He looked at you in awe as if time froze before pulling you down for a searing kiss.

The kiss was hot,sticky, and messy from his blood. You cannot help the soft sighs that escaped your mouth when his lips found yours, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip before giving it a soft suck. Your knees buckled, weak with Eddie’s ministrations. He continued to kiss you deeply, playing with your nipples that made you pull away and bury your face on his neck. “Oh sweetheart, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He growled on your ear, before flipping your positions. He was now on top, straddling you as he look down. Taking off his shirt, it was your turn to run your hands on his lithe body. He isn’t bulky but holy fuck was he well defined on all the right places. And by the looks of it, his cock probably won’t disappoint as well.

Your mouth watered at the thought of his cock inside of you, taking you. You do not mind giving him the power over you, as long as he let you taste all of him. Eddie took of his clothes one by one, standing up quickly to remove his pants and boxers before going back to straddling you. Your eyes widened at his size. Not massively long but the girth of him makes you gulp. Your mouth watered but you cannot help but ask him one thing. “Well fuck me but— would that fit?!” The slight crack of your expression made him laugh, lightly stroking his length as he bury his face at the side of your neck to press wet kisses. “Oh it will fit. We will make it fit, don’t we?” His mouth slowly goes down to your breasts, sucking your pebbled nipples in delight. He continues to do so when you felt his hands cupping your bare pussy.

The action made you release a breath cause finally his hand is where you want it to be. The feeling of his warm palms and his cold rings just made you want more, bucking your hips slightly to ask him for more. He moved away to look into your eyes, rubbing your pussy gently and feeling how wet you are. “You’re soaking wet, jesus.” He mumbled, your eyebrows furrowed with just how his touch is making you lose yourself. “Other than it has been a while, you are the first human that made me feel this insatiable hunger again.”

Your statement made Eddie smirk, before inserting his finger deep to your cunt. The intrusion made you gasp loudly, his finger going in and out to slowly loosen you. Eddie felt you try to grind on his fingers, urging him to add one more. And another, his thumb rubbing your clit as three of his fingers slide in and out of you with ease with how wet you are for him.

He felt the rough patch inside of you, aiming and hitting your sweet-spot over and over again. Eddie can feel that your getting closer with how your breath quickens and how you kept on squeezing his fingers. “Ahh, I-I’m close— please Eddie, please.” This prompted him to go faster. You asked him politely, how can he say no? He watched the way your eyebrows scrunch, mouth open with a silent scream as you let go. You saw stars dancing underneath your eyelids, Eddie still thrusting his fingers and rubbing your clit making you extremely sensitive.

“Eddie— Eddie stop—“ you looked on his face that is holding a wide grin while you try to hold his wrist and stop him. “Ah ah, let go sweetheart, come on. You can give me another one, can ya?” Your hips cannot stay still as he continue to abuse your cunt. He quickly took notice of your tears that are bound to fall soon “I’m— I’m—“ stuttering as you try to warn him, a loud moan erupted from your chest as you get hit with your climax harder. Eddie continued only to slowly stop when he felt you squirt. “Well aren’t you a generous house host?” He teased, licking his fingers clean, letting your juices coat his mouth. His comment made you giggle before positioning his length, nudging his tip on your puffy cunt. “Why yes, I am. Though I am pretty sure I can give you more.” You cockily said, pulling him closer.

His lips found yours once again while he slowly pushes inside you. He swallowed your moans, before he moved away to groan. You might be a vampire but fuck, your cunt was so warm and tight for him that it made his eyes roll at the back of his skull. His thickness made your back arch, nails dragging down his back as he slowly build his speed. He watched you with hungry eyes, bare chests pressed while he try not to crush you with his weight. Your connection with him felt like a dream, in all the centuries you have lived, you have forgotten what it feels like to feel this desired, this wanted.

He fits you perfectly. His cock hitting the right places as his thrusts grew faster and harsher. You were a moaning mess underneath him, drool slightly building up at the side of your lips while your tears threaten to fall. Eddie’s fringe is matted to his forehead as he slam himself in and out of you like a wolf in rut. “S-so good. Ah,ah,ah” you mewled over and over, pulling him closer and wrapping your arms and legs on him to be as close to him as possible. His rhythm never stuttered, bringing you pleasure more and more.

Feeling your teeth scrape the side of his neck, he knew you were on the verge of cumming the same as him. Yet he knows you wanted more, needed more. “Do you want another taste? Come on, you can feed on me.” Tears were now flowing down your cheeks as you chant over and over while your fangs grew longer “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.” You were squeezing him, talking to himself inside his head not to cum yet but when your teeth sank on his skin, his hips stuttered.

The moment his blood hits your tongue and flooded your taste buds, you gave in. Your body convulsed as if you were hit by such a strong wave, while Eddie lets out a loud growl, filling you. Your senses were blank, pleasure taking over as you take and take. He had never felt so high and filled with pleasure. Is he seeing spots now that you kept on sucking his blood while he just cummed? Yes. Is it the best climax that he ever had in his life and was it worth it? Yes. He smiled drunkenly to himself as he feel his strength slipping away, softly combing your hair with his fingers. You felt his breathing slowly get softer before snapping out of the trance from his blood, his whole body crushing you when he passed out.

“Oh fuck—“

Eddie woke up with a headache, feeling lightheaded. The curtains were drawn and the moon shining down through the huge window, illuminating the room alongside the lamps. You quietly sat down beside him, shyly handing him an apple and orange juice box. He took the juices with a lazy smile before bursting into laughter when you covered your face in embarrassment. “I am so sorry.” You mumbled, taking a peek on his reaction. This made him laugh even harder, clutching his stomach. He finally stops and removed your hands covering your face. “Hey, its okay, you literally took my breath away. You should be proud of that.” He teased, making you scoff at him which made him chuckle.

“You know.. its been centuries since I felt this type of connection towards someone.. Will you visit me again?” Holding his hand tenderly, you press it close to your chest while looking at him with pleading eyes and a pout. Eddie could not say no with how adorable you look at him compared to when you just met him. He was planning to tease you but the swelling of his heart made him do otherwise. “Of course! As long as you let me paint you AND hang it on your hall of fame.” “Hall of fame?” You asked him while chuckling, only to be met with a firm nod. “Fine fine.” you took his hand that was on your chest and kissed his palm with tender eyes that were looking at him with affection, the action making him blush. And making his cock hard.

“Sweetheart, you really need to stop making me horny at this point. I almost died the last time.” He joked, both of you laughing at his silliness.

If someone told Eddie that he would meet and sleep with a vampire, he would have probably laughed and punch the person who is clearly out of his mind. But now, doing both, he does not mind doing it again. Meeting a vampire AND having the best sex of his life? Deal.

And for some reason, as you watch Eddie drink both of the juices you gave him, you cannot help but stare intently at his face. Everything seemed to be so oddly familiar that your heart feels like you know him for the longest time which made your eyes slightly water.

Because, maybe you do.

After all, he looks exactly like the only lover that you had and loved two-centuries ago.

#mochiro’s halloween fiesta 🎃#mochiro writes 💖#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #halloween fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fandom #vampire!reader #eddie munson x vampire!reader #stranger things fic #vampire!y/n #eddie munson x you

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