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eatmyheartoutjpg · 16 days ago

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Saw your stuff and had to drop a request! Ambessa x psychic reader? Ambessa has heard of reader in whispers because her nation's has never fallen due to readers visions. Ambessa's scouts catch readers envoy and she finds her chance to steal her enemies greatest weapon.

𓇻 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗗𝗘 ᵃᵐᵇᵉˢˢᵃ ᵐᵉᵈᵃʳᵈᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; One-shot. Ambessa discovers a unique prisoner in the enemy's territory and meets the infamous owner of the voice in her head—the one that's been guiding her since her youth. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I hope I interpreted this alright! And ps, sorry for taking so long, finals are around the corner!!

12.06.24 Masterlist

Ambessa heard a rumor that sent a chill down her spine, one that struck far too close to home. It was said that their current enemy, their ruler, had heard whispering, hearing voices, whispers that guided their actions with an unsettling clarity as if a premonition.

No one knew her secret. Not her advisors, not her family, not even her closest confidants. Since her youth, Ambessa Medarda had harbored a truth she dared not share with anyone—she was the only Medarda, as far as she knew, who seemed to suffer from what she privately called schizophrenia. It wasn’t a diagnosis she could confirm, nor was it a term she fully understood. It was simply the name she gave to the inexplicable phenomenon that had shaped her life.

For as long as she could remember, there had been a voice. It wasn’t constant, nor was it entirely predictable. It was soothing, almost hypnotic, yet undeniably alien. The voice whispered to her, unbidden and uncontrollable, weaving itself into her thoughts and decisions.

At first, she dismissed it as the product of youthful imagination, a quirk of a mind too curious for its own good. But as she grew older, the voice persisted, and she began to realize it was far more than a figment of her imagination.

When she ascended to power, Ambessa convinced herself it was merely the strain of leadership—the weight of ruling a nation manifesting as a peculiar kind of stress. Yet, the voice proved her wrong. It wasn’t an occasional murmuring lost in the haze of fatigue. It spoke with deliberate clarity, uttering words as if it were an unseen advisor lurking in her shadow. Sometimes it gave her advice that bordered on brilliance; other times, it commanded her to act with a conviction she didn’t understand.

At first, she tried to resist it, questioning her sanity and fearing the consequences of indulging the whispers. But the voice was relentless. It didn’t demand compliance—it compelled it, its presence both a comfort and a torment. And the worst part? More often than not, its guidance worked. It seemed to know things she couldn’t, as if it saw beyond the veil of mortal understanding.

As the years went by, Ambessa learned to live with the voice. She made it a part of her, weaving its advice into her strategies and decisions. But she never spoke of it. To the world, she was an unyielding pillar of strength and authority. Inside, she wrestled with the unsettling truth: she wasn’t entirely alone in her own mind.

Now, hearing this rumor, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her long-guarded secret might not be hers alone. What if there were others like her? Or worse, what if someone else had discovered her truth? The voice, silent for days, stirred faintly, its presence a quiet reassurance—or perhaps a warning.

"Find me."

The words brushed against her consciousness like a breeze, soft yet unmistakable. A faint breath fanned her ear, as if the speaker were standing just behind her. But Ambessa didn’t jump or startle. She didn’t whirl around to search for the source of the voice. She had grown accustomed to it, this familiar presence that spoke to her in moments both profound and mundane.

She closed her eyes, steadying herself against the quiet command. It wasn’t the first time the voice had spoken so directly, and she doubted it would be the last. Ambessa had long since stopped questioning its existence or its intentions. The voice was a part of her life, as constant and inescapable as the rise and fall of her breath.

“Find you,” she murmured under her breath, her tone edged with equal parts resignation and intrigue. Where? How? And most troubling of all—why?

"General."

The sharp voice of a soldier cut through her thoughts like a blade, pulling her back to the present. Ambessa blinked, momentarily disoriented, the lingering echo of the voice within her mind fading like smoke.

"We're ready to invade on your command," the soldier reported, his tone crisp and deferential.

Ambessa straightened, her composure solid as stone, the turmoil within her locked away behind a mask. She turned to the soldier, her piercing gaze fixing on him with the weight of authority.

"Good," she replied, her voice steady, unyielding. "Ensure every unit knows their role. We move as one."

As the soldier saluted and strode away to relay her orders, Ambessa remained still for a moment, the weight of the coming fight pressing down on her shoulders. The voice’s words still whispered at the edges of her mind—Find me.

What did it mean? And why now, on the eve of war? She clenched her jaw, shoving the thought aside. There was no time to dwell on cryptic messages or the shadows of her mind. An army was waiting for her command, and she couldn’t afford hesitation.

Yet, as she turned to oversee the final preparations, she couldn’t ignore the flicker of unease curling in her chest. The voice had never led her astray before. But this time, its words felt more personal, more urgent.

She tightened her grip on her gauntlet. The battlefield would demand all of her focus. Whatever the voice wanted, it would have to wait. For now.

The fortress fell like a crumbling ruin. The many banners that used to be prideful were now humiliated as they were cut and stepped into the dirt and mud.

Ambessa stood amidst the wreckage, her armor smeared with blood and ash, her army had finally seized control of the enemy stronghold.

Reports poured in—captives being rounded up, the fortress’s many cataloged inventory and finances, and much more. All of the enemy’s secrets now laid bare. Yet her mind was restless, the whispers from within gnawing at her thoughts.

Find me.

The words had echoed through her mind throughout the ruthless siege, only becoming more frequent as the battle neared its end. She couldn’t dismiss it anymore. There was something—someone—here.

"General Medarda!" A soldier jogged toward her, his face pale beneath his helmet. He saluted hastily, his voice edged with unease. "You need to see this. We found…someone."

Ambessa's brow furrowed, her lips pursing. "Someone? Be clear."

The soldier hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as if to ensure they weren’t overheard. "A prisoner. But not like the others. They were hidden deep within the fortress, in what looked like…a sanctum. Orders, General?"

Ambessa's stomach churned with an unfamiliar sensation—anticipation, or perhaps dread. She gestured sharply. "Take me there."

The soldier led her through the ruined halls, past shattered defenses and bloodied floors. Her army parted before her like ocean waves, respecting her high authority.

The voice within her stirred again, a low hum that quickened her pulse.

When they reached the sanctum, Ambessa halted. The room was dimly lit, its walls adorned with relics and sigils she didn’t recognize, At its center, surrounded by wary guards, knelt a figure—though disheveled and bound— was radiant, an enigma of a human being.

The figure looked up as Ambessa approached, and their breath hitching slightly.

It was as if the air itself grew heavier, the world narrowing to this single, seemingly fragile being. Their eyes—wide with confusion and wariness—held a strange familiarity, though Ambessa knew she had never seen this person before.

But the voice within her surged to the forefront of her mind, stronger than it had ever been.

You found me.

Ambessa froze, her body rigid as the realization crashed over her like a tidal wave. The voice wasn’t a manifestation of her mind, a ghost of her psyche. It wasn’t hers at all.

It was them. This person—this unassuming, bewildered prisoner—was the voice that had guided her, haunted her, defined her.

"Who are you?" Ambessa demanded, her voice low but resonating with an authority that made even her guards flinch.

The prisoner blinked, their expression shifting from fear to confusion. "I don’t know what you mean. I’m no one. Just someone they captured." Their voice held a familiar soft and utterly human tone.

Ambessa’s jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. This couldn’t be coincidence. The connection she felt was too strong, too undeniable. Yet you seemed oblivious, as though you truly didn’t know.

But she knew. Every instinct screamed it, every fiber of her being pulling her closer to this person who had unknowingly shaped the course of her life.

"You’re lying," she growled, stepping closer. "You’ve been guiding me. Commanding me."

The prisoner blinked slowly, as if their eyes represented their processing, their confusion deepening into concern. "I don't know you."

The prisoner—you—tugged at your restraints, a habit you've picked up. You knew they would never relent, but it was a tick of sorts.

Ambessa halted, her mind reeling. You weren’t lying—she could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. But how could they not know? How could they not feel the bond that had tethered them across years, across battles, across lives?

The voice within her whispered again, a quiet plea that sent a shiver down her spine.

Protect me.

Her gaze hardened, a storm of emotions raging beneath her stoic exterior. She turned to her guards, her decision swift and absolute.

"Take them to my chambers. Unharmed."

The soldiers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them spoke up cautiously. "General, are you sure—"

Ambessa’s glare silenced him instantly. "Did I stutter?"

The guards saluted hastily and moved to obey, lifting the prisoner gently to their feet. The figure looked back at Ambessa, their expression a mix of unreadable emotions.

As they were led away, Ambessa remained rooted in place, her thoughts a tangled web of disbelief and certainty. She had spent a lifetime questioning the voice that had shaped her destiny. Now, she was face-to-face with its source.

And for the first time in years, Ambessa Medarda was afraid.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

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dinogoofymutated · 2 months ago

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NSFW! Gambit/Fem!AFAB!reader SECOND FIC OF HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION LEHHHGOOO!!! I really hope you guys like this one, as I had a lot of fun writing it! Sorry if the smut at the end is a little barebones, I was running out of steam lol. Here's your meal my hellions!

A bat flies through your window one night, and although you're dreadfully afraid of rabies and scared to touch the little thing, it's in really bad shape and you can't stand by and just let it die. You spend the next few days nursing the little guy back to health, when one day he up and disappears. The next night you go out with your friends, and feel like you keep seeing a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.

TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Smut, Mirror sex, bitchy neighbors, alcohol consumption, semi-public sex. vampire stuff, only half of this has been beta-read. I'll add more if I think of any.

The bat hadn’t struggled once when you scooped it up into a spare shoebox. It didn’t scramble away, or even flinch, really. It hadn’t made a single sound or squeak, either. All it did was look up at you with strange, tired eyes. Black scelera, red iris, black pupils- paired with an exhausted haze. He was cut up, battered, and beaten. If it weren’t for how compliant it was, you might have thought the thing was feral. Which didn’t exactly help your shaking hands or constant flinching as you used the lid to urge it into the cardboard. But your fear be damned, you couldn’t just leave the little guy on the doorsteps of your apartment- the thought of the bat being crushed by clumsy feet, or poked and prodded by the little hellions that were the children who lived here was more than enough to give you the push you needed.

Besides, it was almost… cute, for something you thought was so scary. A little vampire bat with those strange eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went. He never failed to perk up every time you came home from work. Despite the many struggles and attempts you had trying to find something he could eat, he never seemed to hold it against you. Happy to see you when you took the lid off the shoebox to check in on him, and not too upset with you when you inevitably had to put it back on.

Well, before he escaped, that is.

You knew you were going to have to let him go at some point. You were just trying to do the right thing and reach out to a wildlife rescue, or something. Hoping that they’d do something more to help him before he was set back off into the wild. But one day you came home and he was just, well, gone. The lid of the shoebox had been tossed aside, the box itself a little squished and damaged, the bat nowhere to be found. You searched your apartment for absolute ages, unable to find any trace of his existence or escape aside from a window you were sure you had locked before you left for work that afternoon.

You sigh as you look out the window of the Uber, thoughts drawn back to the bat as you pass billboards and cornfields, hoping he had escaped the city and found himself somewhere a bit safer. Ashley and Sophie, your neighbors from across the hall, are giggling about something in the seats next to you. The chatty girls are more like acquaintances than they are your friends, but on the surface, they seem sweet. When they invited you out tonight you had been surprised, if a little hesitant. You had wrestled with your anxiety every step of the way, but once you were strapped into the sexiest costume you could find and buckled into the almost-too-small backseat of the Uber, you had started to feel a little excited- despite the fact that you stood out like a sore thumb, with the girls having chosen matching costumes at the last minute and left you out of the loop.

“I think we should hit the corn maze first,” Ashley says confidently from the seat next to you. It’s enough to finally clue you back into their current conversation, debating on where the night should start once you get to the Halloween festival. -It’s an “adult only” event, with more than its fair share of alcohol and more than a few scare actors who linger around to give everyone a fright- and there’s a lot to do. It’s almost like the fair, just, you know, spooky.

“What? No! I’m telling you, it’s not a good enough photo-op until the moon comes out. We need to do it last!” Sophie sounds adamant, and you wonder how many times they've actually had this conversation leading up to tonight. You try not to snicker as Ashley rolls her eyes, Sophie pouting across the way. They bicker a bit more before Ashley turns to you, smiling slyly. There’s an unnerving way about the way she’s looking at you, something ticking in the back of your brain that you just can’t shake.

“What do you think?” She asks you, Sophie leaning over to stare at you directly, Puppy eyes full-throttle as she pouts. You don’t really want to be caught between the spat of theirs, so you take a moment to think, before shrugging with your answer.

“I think we should start with drinks.” You say after a moment, and both girls gasp in excitement.

“Girlie you are so smart!! I knew we invited you for a reason!” Ashley’s high-pitched voice cheers harshly in your ears as she lightly slaps your arm, but you smile at her anyway, despite the fact that her tone made it feel rather belittling. It’s fine. This is fine, it will be fine. Your anxiety feels like a ticking time bomb, but you know that when you get there and start having fun, it will eventually fade into the background of the noise and lights of the festival. At least, you hoped it would.

The festival is pretty packed when you get there, but the wide walkways and plentiful games, areas, and events make it more approachable. After the first watery drink of the night, you start to relax a little. And as bitchy and frigid as the girls can be sometimes, they’re a lot of fun when it comes to a party! Carnival games, photo areas, rides, and jumpscares? You find yourself laughing most of the night as the three of you goof off and stumble your way through the corn maze, clown maze, haunted maze- a little repetitive in that area, but fun nonetheless.

The funny thing was, despite all the people here, and everyone the girls have stopped to flirt with and talk to, you keep seeing this one particular guy. He was certainly one to stand out in a crowd, tall, dark, and handsome with what looked like a permanent smirk on his face. But the one thing you couldn’t seem to shake was his eyes. They had to be contacts, right? Black Scelera, red irises, black pupils… just, strange. And familiar, somehow. You feel like you see him everywhere you go, somehow always in your vicinity, but not really in a stalkerish kind of way. Besides, it was more than likely just a coincidence.

After a while of playing various games and a couple more watery drinks, you’re feeling pretty warm and a little crowded. Ashley and Sophie had run into some acquaintances they knew and had stopped to chat for a bit. They talk about some of the more busy and exciting things you haven't been able to check out yet, but the longer you stand there, the less appealing all of this starts to sound. You’re beginning to feel a little overstimulated, and go ahead and let the girls know you’d rather sit this one out. Sophie doesn’t answer you at all, and all Ashley does is wave you off. It sparks some annoyance in your chest, but knowing that you’re overwhelmed and everything feels like it's at 100% right now- you shrug it off.

You find a bale of hay to sit on where you told them you’d wait, relieved at the feeling of the cool night air that’s uninterrupted by masses of warm bodies and hot breathing. The sound of the crowd is a little muffled over here, and the slight breeze just gives you everything you need for a quick break from the chaos, eyes closed as you lean back onto your hands. Not for long though, as someone plops down onto the space next to you pretty much immediately.

“Busy night, ay, cher?” Your eyes flick open quickly, and the source of that thick Cajun draw just so happens to be the handsome man you had been seeing all night. You blush a little, both out of nervousness and from the fact that he was even more attractive up close. The cool air suddenly feels sweltering with his eys on you like this.

“...yeah, I guess so.” You say after a moment, pressing a cool palm against one of your hot cheeks for a quick moment. The stranger chuckles at you, a flash of a fake fang appearing with his smile.

“Name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau.” He holds his hand out for a handshake, which you take with a smile. “Pretty girl like you gotta name?” You can’t help but giggle a little, and tell him your name, butterflies in your stomach with the way he’s looking at you.

“Nice to meet you, officially.” You say, and he cocks an eyebrow at you with that signature smirk of his. “I mean- like, I feel like I’ve been seeing you everywhere tonight! Not in a creepy way or anything, I just…” You take your hand back from him, covering your face in embarrassment as you apologize again with a sigh. God, why were you so awkward? You drop your hands into your lap as Remy begins to laugh, with you blushing furiously in a way you pray you can blame on the alcohol.

“ s’ good to know I make a lasting impression,” Remy says, and it’s charming enough to make you crack another smile.

“I promise I’m not normally this strange. It’s been a bit of a night.” The words come out like a sigh, and you glance over where the “stressors” of the night had run off to, strangely thankful when you can't see them through the crowd. You feel like your heart skips a beat when you look back over at Remy, with a smile on his face and a fondness in his eyes you feel like might be a little too friendly for someone you just met.

“I don’t mind, Cher. You’ll find that I like strange.” He replies, sending you a wink. You let out a short laugh, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“You know what? I believe you.” You say, all Remy does is smile wider. You glance at him again, looking at him from head to toe as you take in his appearance up close. You can’t really tell if he’s wearing a costume, or if he had just stuck on some vampire teeth and called it a night. Either way, he looks good, and you really do not want to make a further fool of yourself.

“What led you here, anyway? Costume catch your eye?” You flirt, hoping you don’t come off as nervous as you are- not really one to flirt with handsome strangers. But hey! When the opportunity presents itself… Remy raises his eyebrows, interested.

“Sure, Somethin' like that.”

You and Remy talk for a really, really long time. From the outside looking in, just about anyone would presume you were a couple with the easy-flowing conversation and back-and-forth flirting. You just clicked! It was so easy for your nerves to wash away, and for a long moment, all of your anxieties about the night were long forgotten. One of the two of you had scooted closer in the duration of your flirt-fest, not that you really noticed while caught up in his words and charismatic smile- your sides being pressed together and his hand resting behind you. He’s close enough to lean in and kiss you, and honestly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if he did.

“So you want my number then?” The words are admittedly cocky, but damn did this guy make you feel so confident in your own skin.

“You hear me say I didn’t?” Remy replies, cocking his head at you. You can't help but laugh, smiling like some cheesy idiot.

“Do you flirt like this with every girl?”

“Jus’ the ones I like.”

You really hadn’t noticed how long the two of you had been sitting together, an hour? Maybe an hour and a half? Your phone had been long forgotten, and you weren’t really planning to check it either until you heard a giddy squeal from your right. Both you and Remy look over to the noise, only to see the girls, without their clique from before and presumably done with all of their roaming at the moment.

“Hey girlie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ashley says, drawing you into an awkward side hug that you don’t return, confused.

“I told you where I’d be?” She brushes you off, locking eyes with Remy for just long enough for her eyebrows to raise and a glint to light up in her eyes.

“Who’s this?” You don’t have time to answer before Sophie is in front of you, taking your hands and dragging you to your feet.

“Come get food with us!! We need an excuse to sober up, and we’re not doing it without you, bestie!” Both of them are being a little more friendly than normal, and it's enough to make you a little suspicious. But, food did sound pretty nice at the moment. You look back at Remy with a sheepish smile, and you find that he’s already looking at you.

“ S’ alright, Cher. I’m a patient man.” He gives you a reassuring smile, and you relax a little more, unable to keep yourself from smiling as butterflies light up in your stomach. The girls drag you away pretty much immediately, talking about some afterparty or whatnot, but all you can think of the entire time is the implications of that statement.

“Where’d you find a man like that?” Sophie’s voice finally catches your attention while in line for the carnival food, and you give her a questioning look.

“Sorry?” You ask, and both of them giggle in that way that just seems to set alarms off in your head.

“I’m serious! Almost every guy we’ve seen tonight has been like, a seven. That one is literally a ten.” Sophie giggles again, sending Ashley a knowing look. You blush a little, thinking about Remy again, but there’s just something about this conversation that’s making you uncomfortable.

“Well, I didn’t exactly find him. He approached me.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders. The girls exchange skeptical looks, before laughing again.

“Really?” Ashley asks this time, a wolfish smile on her face. It’s rhetorical- and feels just plain bitchy. Your face screws up, and you think about confronting her, but they quickly and ignorantly delve into a separate conversation, and you reluctantly decide to let it go. What the fuck was up with them? You don’t fall into conversation with them for a minute as you try to collect yourself, knowing you’d rather ride home with them than pay for a separate Uber. And starting a fight was definitely not going to work in your favor, seeing as they were your neighbors. They had a pack mentality like no other, and after tonight you’d much rather be able to ignore them forever instead of having a neiborly feud.

Eventually, you do decide to join the conversation. The line for food was ridiculously fucking long, and although it was moving, you still felt so impatient. Your phone is dying, and you’d really rather save your battery for Remy’s number and the ride home- so you talk and hope for the best. Eventually, Ashley says she needs to go to the bathroom and hands her wallet to Sophie before she stalks off. She’s gone for a while. A really long while. As you’re finally inching your way to the end of the line, Sophie tells you she’s going to find her. You actually welcome the peace and quiet, and promise to hold the spot. 4th in line. 3rd. 2nd. You’re starting to get anxious by the fact that neither of them had returned, but you get to the end and they’re still not back.

You buy a funnel cake for yourself, almost worried about the two as you walk back to the hay bale where you left Remy. The crowd finally starts to clear a bit, and when the Hay bale is finally in sight, you actually assume that you were looking at the wrong spot for a minute- until you recognize the costumes, and then spot the brunette they are both latched onto.

Ashley is in his space, her costume unzipped just enough for anyone walking past to get a view. Sophie is leaning across his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair and twirling the ends with manicured fingers You can’t see his face- but it didn’t really matter anyway.

You don’t mean to drop the funnel cake, but you do. There's a shot of ice through your veins when it clicks for you, finally, as you watch them from a distance- it was a ploy. A stupid fucking ploy. You were the ugly friend- If they could even call you that. You were invited to make them look better. The matching costumes, the conspiring looks, the whole thing about Remy. Jesus Christ, had you always been this blind? Your face is warm with humiliation, eyes watering as you desperately try not to cry.

Remy had nothing to do with it- of course, he didn’t, you just met him, but as you look at the two draped over him… You just feel like you can’t really compare. You know better. You do- but god, did it hurt. You don’t want to go over there for them to make fun of you again, and you sure as hell don’t want to feel the sting of rejection that will inevitably come when he ditches you for them. Before you know it, your feet are moving. You’re not thinking clearly- hardly thinking at all. You see a side entrance, or maybe a fire exit, not that you really care. You can’t read anything through your tears, closing the door behind you and plugging yourself into darkness as it clicks shut.

Inside, you find a mirror maze- again, what was with all of the fucking mazes? The overhead lights are off, what little light that’s coming from the outside dimly reflecting through each and every silvery mirror. It’s completely abandoned, with not a single soul in sight. You step over some shattered glass as you make your way further into the maze, and understand it was probably because drunks and mirrors don’t mix.

You find a dead end in the maze, and it’s like your legs give out. You can't help but just sit on the ground and sob for a minute. The backs of your hands are stained with the mascara that you’re sure is streaking down your face. You feel like an idiot- stupid, dramatic, pathetic. And you looked it, too. Every mirror reflects the mess of what you have become until you can’t stand to look at yourself anymore, pulling your knees to your chest and tucking your head into your arms.

It's a quiet reprieve. You sit for a minute, long after your tears have dried. Your breathing begins to return to normal as the humiliation really starts to settle in. You’re so tired, and exhausted, and find yourself wishing you had never come out tonight at all, visioning your comfy bed that waits for you at home.

“Pauvre ti bête. Looks like you need new friends, Cher.” The sound of the voice makes you flinch, the daylight scared out of you as a dark figure sits down by your side. “Remy?” You wipe at your face again, knowing it was to no avail, and that the damage to your makeup had already been done.

“The one an’ only,” He replies. It’s hard to see him in the low lighting, but it’s not like you’re looking around much anyway. There’s a silence between you two, and your gaze is locked on the floor, refusing to look at him with your stupid pout and tear-stained face.

“Sat for a while, waitin’ on you.” He says, after a long moment, and it makes you feel so much fucking worse. You curl into yourself a little more.

“Sorry, I just… I dunno, I thought you looked busy.” The words are more of a whisper than anything, and he chuffs something that’s not quite a laugh in response.

“I guess you could say that.” He hums, leaning back on his hands as you finally turn to look at him. “Hadda swat those girls like damn mosquitos to get 'em off. Felt like they were tryna swallow me whole.” You can’t help but laugh at that, rubbing your eyes a bit.

“...Trust me, they were probably trying to swallow something.” The words are out of your mouth before your brain can really catch up. Remy laughs a full laugh, smiling brightly at you now that you’ve started to come back out of your shell once again.

“Sorry, that was crude.”

“Sounded pretty funny to me,” Remy’s grin is contagious, not that you ever would complain. You roll your eyes at him with that big smile on your face, leaning your head against the mirror behind you.

“I guess I can’t really blame them, either.” You mumble, eyes going wide once you realize that that was most definitely not supposed to leave your lips. “God damn, I really have lost my filter!” Remy begins to laugh again as you cover your face, flushed with embarrassment. He doesn’t seem to mind the comment at all. Pulling your hands away as he struggles to contain his laughter.

“I like you, y’know that?” He says, and it makes you smile. You sit in comfortable silence for a bit, and before you know it, you find yourself leaning on his shoulder, eyes closed. Your thoughts slowly begin to wander. Remy’s very sweet, and the fact that he still came looking for you despite everything… It meant a lot. You can only imagine how uncomfortable he had been with Ashley and Sophie hanging off of him, waiting, wondering where you had gone. If he notices as your smile slowly becomes a frown, he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry I left you out there.” You say quietly, breaking the silence that had become so uncomfortable for you. “I hadn’t realized they invited me to be the “ugly” friend until right then and I just needed to get away from it all.” There’s a featherlight brush of skin against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, Remy pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, thumb lingering against your skin. You find yourself caught up in his piercing gaze. It’s almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Pretty dumb choice to invite you if they were looking for an ugly friend.” His voice is low, and his cool hand feels nice against your flushed skin. You can’t drag your eyes away from his, gazes locked together as the tension only grows- thick enough to cut with a knife and choke you as you breathe it in. It’s he who breaks the eye contact first, stunning red irises flickering down to your lips and back up again.

“Really,” You ask, but it’s less of a question and more like a filler, mind unable to provide anything other than that. You’re caught up in that little action of his, swallowing, unable to look away from him. Suddenly, you realize just how close he really is.

“Mais oui,” He mumbles, close enough for you to feel the slight breath that comes with the words. His thumb and finger prop up your chin, but he moves no closer, waiting for you. It’s hardly a debate for you to decide to brush your lips against his own.

It’s like fireworks explode behind your eyelids when the space between you closes, his lips melding against you perfectly. It’s soft and sweet. Gentle for a man as much of a flirt as he appeared to be. He kisses you a few times, just like that, until the kiss starts to develop into something a little more heated. He turns to face you a little better, the sharp fangs in his mouth grazing your bottom lip as he leans over you and licks at the seam of your lips- which you eagerly open for him. Fuck, he was a good kisser.

Before long, you’re leaning back on your palms, and one of Remy’s knees presses between your thighs. Your elbows buckle just a little, and he’s quick to catch you. One of his hands is on the small of your back as he keeps you propped up, the other one flat against the floor as he keeps both of you from falling. He nips at your lip- the tip of his canine just barely splitting the skin before he kisses away your yelp, licking the blood away just as quickly as it had appeared. As embarrassing as it was, the action alone was enough to get the attention of heat slowly building in your abdomen. His kisses trail from your lips down to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there.

Your eyes slowly open, half-lidded as you weave your fingers through his hair, tongue softly licking at the stinging soreness of that bottom lip of yours. He’s not as aggressive with the rest of you, kissing and sucking dark spots into you as the sharp canines only drag and graze. Your eyes wander to a mirror across from you- one just barely lit from what you were sure was a hole in the roof- the full moon lining up just perfectly enough to light the mirrored room.

It takes a second for you to recognize what you see in the mirror.

You see yourself. Just yourself, leaned over as if you were hovering, neck exposed with purple marks blooming mysteriously across your skin. It’s you. Just you. Only you.

A gasp is ripped out of your throat, and if the way your spine goes rigid wasn’t enough to alert Remy, it was the fast, pounding beat of your heart. Your eyes are glued to that image reflected in the mirror, even as Remy removes himself from your neck and finds himself staring at that same image. He stiffens, an unreadable look on his face before he recovers with an amused hum.

“Well, Don’t we make a lovely couple?” He muses. And when you finally look back at him, his strange eyes and sharp fangs, you realize exactly what he is. A wave of familiarity washes over you again, but you can’t place it as the horror begins to wash over you.

“Oh my god.” You breathe, almost stuck in disbelief. This could not be real, could it? That smirk of his makes yet another appearance, and yet something feels off about it. Deceptive, almost. It does not reach his eyes.

“What, you afraid?” He asks with a chuckle. You wonder for a moment about the situation you had put yourself into, held in the arms of what could only be a vampire. All you can do is look at him, wide-eyed. If stories were to be believed, he’d be caging you in his arms, holding you in an iron grip before he strikes- bleeding you dry without care…

But he’s not. Yes, he was holding you up, but the arm around you is loose. His body language is open- and you get the feeling that if you tried to make a run for it, he’d let you. He’s not vicious. He’s not snapping at you or pinning you down. Hell, he had the chance to bite you earlier while you were pliant and eager, and he didn’t.

“...I don’t actually know, right now.” You finally respond, and something shifts. His breath catches in his throat, and the barest glimpse of vulnerability is gone within a second as he leans back a little, giving you a chance to sit up a bit more. You do so hesitantly.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Cher. Just wanted to give you a proper thank you.” He rumbles. He takes one of your hands, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles, gaze never leaving your own. Black, red, black. Where had you seen that before?

“Proper… what?” You furrow your eyebrows, trying your damndest to make sense of it all. Black, red, black. Black, red, black. Sharp teeth. Vampires, bats, Vampire bats. Vampire bat. Vampire bat. For the second time tonight, it all clicks for you.

“Holy shit. You-? The bat?-” You feel like you’re at a loss for words. Remy smiles again, fangs catching the low light of the mirrored room.

“That’d be me.” He admits, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “ ‘Thought I was done for until you showed up. Most vamps like that? They don’t make it inside ‘fore the sun comes up.” He chuckles, but the seriousness of the situation is not lost on you. Saving the life of an immortal being rather than the life of a small bat is something huge, it felt like it, at least.

“Did you follow me here? Is that why I kept seeing you around tonight?” You ask. Remy simply shrugs his shoulders, letting your fingers go as he inches forward, looming over you once again.

“Think of it as more of a happy accident.” Remy sets his arms on either side of you, leaning close enough for his nose to gently brush against yours. You think he’s going to kiss you as his hand comes up to cup your chin. Instead, Remy runs his thumb across your lower lip, which you hadn’t even realized had started to bleed again. He brings the thumb to his mouth, licking the smear of blood. The sight is seductive. Arousing. You find yourself staring at his lips, conflicted. He sets his forehead against your own, hovering over your lips. There’s a heated look in his eyes when you look back up at them.

“Tell me to leave, Cher, And I’ll go.” You swallow as he says the words, a flutter in your chest and a growing warmth within you. You bite your lower lip, your hesitance quickly being overshadowed by want.

“... You're not gonna suck my blood or anything?” You ask, lips beginning to brush against his own. He chuckles, and this time he’s close enough for you to feel the sound as it rumbles through his chest.

“Not unless you want me to…” He’s teasing you now, making you chase his lips until he’s fully sure you really want this, and you do. When they finally meet, his lips press against yours just as spectacularly as they did the first time. One of his hands snakes around the back of your neck, shielding the lower part of your head as he lowers you to the floor. You find yourself lost in his kisses, thinking of only him and the way he treats you so gently.

He props himself up with one strong arm, the other cupping the side of your face rather reverently, his thumb stroking across your cheekbone. Your hands can’t help but wander up and down his torso, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt. You feel him smile against your lips as you do, kissing at the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, before the fluttery movement traces a path over each and every discolored spot on your neck, kissing the marks he had given you not even twenty minutes earlier. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair as the kisses venture further. His cold face presses into your open cleavage, an open palm dragging up from your thigh and sliding beneath your top, softly squeezing the bare skin of your waist. You find yourself arching into his touch, eager for his soft caress.

You have goosebumps down your chest as his fangs graze the skin, his fingers hooking around the neckline of your shirt and the bra underneath it from the inside. The cool air hits your bare breasts as he tugs it down, your nipples pebbling at the frigid draft. Your breath hitches at the feeling as his lips venture down your sternum, his free hand moving out from under the fabric to palm and toy with one breast as he begins to tease the other. He chuckles at you when you let out a whine, fingers tugging on his locks.

“Have a little patience, Cher.” There’s a seductive lure to his voice as Remy tells you to have a little faith in him, pressing one last kiss to the swell of one said breast as he moves back up. He easily draws you into another long, heated kiss. He continues to play with the breast in his hand, pinching and testing the supple give of the skin. Your muffled whines and moans are music to his ears as he presses his knee against your heated core, only relenting with his playful touches when he slides his palm under your spine, forcing you to arch your back. He lets go of your lips to drag his attention back to your breast, now sucking at the stiff peaks, careful of his sharp teeth.

“Remy,” His name comes out inadvertently, the sound making him groan against you. Your hands have slid down from their hold on his scalp, now resting against his wide shoulders with a tight grip on the fabric of his shirt. His palm wanders up and down the expanse of your back, thriving off of the feeling of your hot, flushed skin against his cold body.

The feeling of your top being bunched around your waist starts to become uncomfortable and suffocating. You squirm to try and take it off yourself, but Remy is quick to stop you. He pulls it off of you slowly, kissing every inch of skin it drags against as it goes. Once it's off, he leans back to get a good look at you, cursing under his breath as his hands find your thighs. You know for a fact you’re flushed and red from the neck down. The sight only encourages Remy further, quickly sitting up and removing his own shirt, keeping his gaze on yours throughout the movement.

It’s not surprising when his upper body catches your attention, the lean muscle impressive for a man who’s basically dead. Or was he? When he’s back within reach, you run your right hand from his happy trail till you reach his collarbone, fingertips pressing into the cold skin as you try to feel for a pulse. He hums, a mischievous glint in his eye when he realizes what you’re doing.

“You won’t find a heartbeat, cher. Not from me.” Remy confirms your thoughts. You can only hum in response, leaning up to press a soft kiss where your hand had been, over his heart. Remy lets out a low groan at the action, inciting a slow grind of his hips against yours.

“Merde.” He mumbles.“You play a dangerous game, makin’ a dead heart flutter.”

“Do I really?” You ask, biting your lip. Remy leans in, just far enough to teasingly brush his lips against your own before he moves down the length of your neck, never touching you in the way to crave so badly.

“I get the feeling you like dangerous games.” There's something sharp against your neck, the tips of his fangs gently dragging across the skin. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but not out of fear. He grinds his hips into you once again, your hips eagerly bucking to meet his own. You swallow deeply at the sound he makes at the action- realizing that you just might want him to bite into you. It’s crazy. You feel crazy. It must be so tantalizing for him to be pressed against you like this, fully aware of the red-hot blood rushing through your veins and the constant pounding of your heart. And yet, he never takes the bait.

Remy’s lips meet your own again right as your hands meet the buckle of his jeans. He sighs against your lips as you undo it, sliding your hand underneath the stiff fabric to feel the hardness he hides underneath. He’s… big. Not necessarily long, but he’s thicker than you had expected him to be. You stroke him over the fabric of his boxers, feeling his length twitch under your touch. When he separates from the kiss, he tucks his head into your shoulder. You can’t help but giggle at the action as you begin to pull both garments down, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen once freed.

“Are you sensitive, Remy?” You ask him, turning your head to bury it in his hair. You wrap your hand around his cock, hearing him moan before cursing quietly when you give him a slight squeeze.

“Sometimes.” He mumbles, one of his calloused hands coming up to one of your breasts, gently rubbing his thumb over your nipple to encourage it to a stiff peak. You can’t help but let out a surprised moan as he pinches and teases, feeling his smile against the skin of your shoulder.

“But I got nothin’ on you.” Remy kisses your breast, before taking a long, slow lick across the sensitive skin. He takes the nub into his mouth, giving it a short suck before he lets go of it with a pop.

You almost want to whine and complain when Remy removes himself from you, but quickly lose the thought as you watch him remove his pants and boxers in one movment. Once he’s done, he slowly slides his hands from your ankles to your hips, hooking his fingers underneath the fabric of your bottoms. He kisses the space beneath your belly button, red eyes trained on your own as he slowly drags the clothing down, undressing you until you’re bare. He licks his lips at the sight of you, slowly spreading your legs as he begins to kiss from your knees to your…

“You don’t- you don’t have to do that.” You stutter out once you realize what he’s doing. You’ve never been eaten out before, and the sight of him between your legs has already got you flushed and nervous- embarresed, even. Remy’s eyes shift back up to your face, his fingers sliding between your admittedly slick folds as you try to hold back a moan.

“Vampires are creatures of desire, cher. Thirsty ones at that.” He rumbles, and it’s like everywhere he touches you is on fire, his cool hands stroking you into a lustful heat. “Should I beg for you to consider?” He’s got this knowing look on his face, watching you as you bite your lip, face twitching with pleasure every time those fingers of his graze your clit. He slides a finger into you without resistance, curling it just right. You buck your hips into the feeling, nodding vigorously as a final go-ahead.

Remy dives into your cunt like a man starved.

Every lick of his tongue and curl of his fingers has you seeing stars. Fuck, did it feel good. He touches you expertly, finding spots within you that you didn't even know you had. He lets a moan slip now and then, fully immersed in the warm wetness of your pussy.

Your legs are hooked over his shoulders, a hand splayed across your lower abdomen to keep you from bucking up into his mouth as he enjoys himself. You feel close to cumming embarrassingly quick- quick in a way you had never known yourself to even be capable of.

“Remy!” It's an urgent call of his name, your hands tangling themselves in his hair as you attempt to warn him. He hums in response, right over your clit, and it does nothing but push your body further. You come with a rather embarrassing noise, hips twitching and thighs pressing into the side of his head. You can't help but assume that not needing to breathe was only a bonus for the man currently suffocating between your pillowy thighs.

He lets you ride out your orgasm with enthusiasm, pressing sweet kisses to the skin around your sensitive cunt as your breathing begins to even out and your legs begin to relax around him.

He looks absolutely wrecked when he sits up. His hair is messy, a pussydrunk smile he's certainly not afraid to hide spreading across his face.

“You feelin’ alright, cher?” He asks. You eagerly nod in response, leaning into his touch when he crawls back over you to place a kiss against your lips. You've never been one to taste yourself, but you find that you don’t mind tasting it on his lips. Remy's cock begins a slow grind against you, grazing your clit with every stroke. You moan into the kiss, a string of spit between your mouths when you separate long enough to catch your breath.

“Fuck.” The word is whispered, but that doesn't stop Remy from catching it. He lets out a low laugh, collecting your wetness as he grinds.

“You ready for me?” He asks. You nodd, closing your eyes as you eagerly wait for the stretch of his cock. Exempt, he stops.

“I need you to give me a yes, cher.”

“Yes-” He swallows the rest of that word in an eager kiss, finally sliding into your heat inch by inch. You both moan in union, feeling every inch of that slow stretch. He's cold. Not freezing, but cold. It's unlike any feeling you've felt before, and surprisingly, you want more of it.

His body begins to warm a little more everywhere the two of you touch- and god, does it feel good. Remy favors a steady pace, with powerful thrusts that hit you right every single time. It felt like he was made for you, and he most definitely felt the same. Remy kisses you like a man in love, fucking you in a way that makes you see rings instead of stars.

Every smack of his hips against yours is rather careful, measured even. It's only when he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach like a ragdoll that you realize the kind of strength he holds- suddenly grateful for his caution. He's quick to go back to rearranging your insides once he has you on your knees, front pressed against your back as he kisses at the nape of your neck and slides his arm around your front, palm splayed under a boob with his thumb on the valley between.

“Look at us, love.” His chest rumbles against your back, and it's not even a whole minute before the position changes again, Remy pulling you against him as he sits up onto his knees, holding you steady as he makes you face the mirror.

You wish that you could see his reflection in that mirror as you gaze upon the sight of you, red face flushed and needy. You don't see the way he holds you pressed so tightly against his chest, or the way he admires that evocative image of you, shaking with each thrust.

“Aren't you a sight, bele.” His breath is cold against your ear, his hand coming down to circle your clit as his thrusts pick up in pace. You can tell he's close, reaching that peak just as fast as you reach your own. You grasp at his hands, moans and whine only getting louder as that pleasure gets ever-so-close.

His groan against your ear is unnecessarily hot, his thrusts stuttering right before he pulls out of you. His cock rests just below your lower lips, using the friction of your thighs as he reaches that high. He cums in thick streaks, your own release following directly after.

There's a buzzing sound right as Remy sits back, placing you in his lap as he kisses across your shoulders sweetly. You relax against him, boneless as you both try to catch your breath. The buzzing stops for a moment before it continues again. You hardly register the noise, and are certainly in no condition to try and find the source.

When Remy looks over to the sound, he finds your phone hiding beneath the scattered clothes on the floor. It's his shirt, and he reaches over to grab it. The phone is set to the side as he maneuvers you around, dressing you in his shirt like a gentleman.

“Cher?” You hum, only halfway aware at the moment as Remy calls your name. He hands you your phone, and you open your eyes just enough to unlock it and see the fifteen missed calls from Ashley and Sophie.

“God damnit. Can't I have any peace?” You curse. Remy laughs, watching from over your shoulder as you check the additional excessive Snapchat messages from them.

“Maybe we should send them a message, no?” Remy reaches over to your phone, swiping over to the Snapchat camera, angling it to where both of your sweaty, disheveled faces are inframe, along with the line of purple hickies that trail down your neck. Jesus christ, you were about to fuck him all over again for even suggesting this. Who knew you were into revenge like that?

“Oh fuck yes.”

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