#nightfall x reader

[skylandersandyou]

Oh oh is it okay to request both Nightfall and High Volt with an s/o that is just like a total sweetie and a happy go lucky person? Like here is Nightfall or High Volt intimidating and all serious while their s/o in front of them is just like “(ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ hiiii!”

Also wanna add that this blog is very fun and I love reading all of these :33

I try to make the blog fun, and the limit to requesting characters is 2

High Volt

This man can’t stop adoring you in the back of his circuits, but he remains stoic and intimidating

He actually stands to the side because he’s like… 5 feet tall and rather compact, still terrifying

If anything he might join in on being lighthearted if he’s not on duty, which is… sadly rare

He loves you too much, and would adore a partner who’s a sweetheart

Nightfall

She expresses her love and happiness for a sweetheart like you in small gestures, she’s a looming shadow that wants to keep you safe

Manages a serious face all the time on the job, scares most people with it, if you’re on the job with her please tell her it’s ok to loosen up

Unlike High Volt, where he’s programmed for battle, Nightfall has variation and therefore choose to be serious or not

Either way she loves your energy

[thehusbandoden]

Spy x Family Masterlist

Last added to: 03/14/24

Current works: 2

Main masterlist

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Anya Forger -strictly platonic- (0)

Anya Forger -strictly platonic- (0)

Loid Forger (2)

Loid Forger (0)

Fiona Frost (0)

Fiona Frost (0)

Yor Briar (0)

Yor Forger (0)

(I don't write NTR, so it will be either platonic or before she gets married.)

Yuri Briar (0)

Yuri (0)

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Main masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here<;3

~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[undertale-writing-times]

How would Yandere nightfall react to his S/O being sleep deprived?

One fun thing with Nightfall, he's able to make people fall asleep just by touching them with his tentacles. The goop is like a really strong sleeping pill.

So he would wrap his tentacles around his datemate and bring them close to his body, cooing and whispering praises to them as he waited for his goop to work.

You aren't going to be sleep deprived near him.

[love-and-deepspace-fanfic]

Rafayel Fanfic - Drunken Intimacy

This story is inspired by the 4* Rafayel card "Oceanic Nightfall," though I personally don't like how MC handles the situation, so here's a different scenario where I think things could get better.

Hope you've been enjoying my delulu so far

Imagine you just came back from a tired mission trip, and Raf has just finished throwing a party and got drunk....

Drunken Intimacy

You had just finished carefully placing your suitcase back in your bedroom after a long mission trip when you spotted a figure slumped against the sofa by the window, holding a glass of wine you had set down countless times since you saw him.

"Argh, this boozer."

You muttered under your breath. Resigned, you navigated around the remnants of a party scattered across the living room, making your way towards a collection of overflowing wine bottles. The sight of the trashed mansion after a long and tiring trip filled you with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

You'd envisioned a different homecoming with Rafayel – a walk by the lake or a visit to his favorite restaurant, as usual. But this scene was far from what you'd expected. Since arriving home, you'd been deliberately avoiding Rafayel's gaze, not wanting to betray your disappointment, even though deep down you knew he must have had his reasons.

Rafayel remained motionless on the sofa, swirling the wine in his glass. His eyes, usually sharp, held a strangely gentle glint as they met yours. An unsettling silence lingered between you, broken only by the jarring ring of a phone.

You recognized the ringtone as your own, but couldn't find it anywhere. It wasn't until you spotted it lying beside Rafayel on the sofa that you realized he must have noticed your avoidance too.

You approached Rafayel with your gaze fixed elsewhere. You quickly snatched your phone and answered the call from Thomas. Just as you were about to move away to talk, Rafayel suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling you down. Taken off guard, you fell onto Rafayel's lap, right as Thomas' voice echoed from the other end of the line.

"Is that […]? Are you home already?"

You shot Rafayel a glare, but his grip was firm, preventing you from moving. You sighed and switched on speakerphone to answer. "Yes, I just got back. Is there something wrong?"

“Oh, you're back already? The party organizers and I wanted to apologize to you! The party tonight was supposed to be held at the pre-booked hotel, but due to unforeseen circumstances, they couldn't accommodate us. That's why I had to ask Rafayel to let us use his place. He usually refuses these requests, but for some reason he agreed today, which is why the party ended up being such a success. Please don't blame him, he didn't want any of this. On another note, there was a sudden power outage, and by the time Rafayel chased everyone out, we couldn't clean up. We'll send some staff over tomorrow to tidy things up."

You cast a sidelong glance at Rafayel before replying, "It's alright, Thomas. I understand."

Relief washed over Thomas on the other end of the line. As he was just about to ask about your trip, the call abruptly cut out. A moment later, it dawned on Thomas that Rafayel must be sulking again.

You yourself were also taken by surprise. All you'd heard was Thomas' voice on speakerphone, and the call had just abruptly ended because somebody’s slender and beautiful fingers pressed on the disconnect button. Still sprawled across Rafayel's lap, you lifted your eyes to meet his, their gazes locking. His eyes, glazed over with intoxication, held an undeniable intensity as they looked back at you. His body burned with heat, his cheeks flushed a deep red all the way across his face to his ear. Despite the haziness in his eyes, his focus remained fixated on you. His hand reached out to take the one holding your phone, gently setting it aside before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close as if to meld you into his chest. The intensity of his grip startled you. You pushed yourself up, bracing your hands against his chest to create some space, forcing him back onto the sofa before sitting above him to catch your breath. A mix of annoyance and amusement bubbled within you.

“What is it? Are you trying to convince me that all this mess wasn't intentional?"

Rafayel remained silent, his gaze unwavering as he stared at you. His scorching hand reached out to touch yours resting on his chest. He squeezed it tightly, then began to stroke it gently, sending shivers down your spine. You realized there was something different about Rafayel today. You let him keep hold of your right hand while reaching out with your left to touch his cheek.

“Tell me," you said softly, "What’s bothering you today?”

Rafayel finally spoke, but his words were nonsensical.

“Do you think a mother turtle can climb trees now?"

What? Mother turtles?

As if lost in his own thoughts, Rafayel continued rambling. "Jellyfish must be able to walk, and sharks know how to eat grass as well."

You finally realized what he was hinting at. You sighed reluctantly, "Didn't I tell you the trip would take two weeks?"

"You said two weeks, but you came back a day late without telling me!"

Rafayel said, his voice laced with a hint of sulking. You felt a pang of guilt. You had indeed been delayed a day, preoccupied with finding a souvenir for him and forgot to inform him. This was serious… he was really upset.

You sighed and gave in, "I’m sorry…"

"We haven’t done yet!" Rafayel’s voice grew more "ferocious.”

“Do you know how annoying those people were today? The ladies with their suffocating perfume, the pot-bellied old men with their sly faces, just looking at them made me lose my appetite. But more importantly..."

Rafayel suddenly stopped, his voice dropping, gloomy

"...Without you, I don't want to do anything."

Rafayel’s hand moved from holding your hand to stroking your cheek. His eyes softened but were still filled with sadness.

“To you... it's just a day... but to me it has been long enough that I've stopped counting... until I see you again..."

Ah, it’s this topic again...

Though you knew about Rafayel’s Lemurian heritage, he rarely spoke about his distant past.

Except at times like this.

Sometimes, you wondered what had happened to make Rafayel show such pain, and you had a feeling it was connected to you...

Maybe you would never be able to change or control what had happened in the past, but at least, at this moment...

Putting your thoughts aside, you leaned down, your hands gently touching Rafayel’s handsome face and then placing a kiss on his forehead. You kissed him deeply and forcefully on his forehead as if to create your own "protective" mark.

"Do you know what kissing the forehead is for?"

You leaned your elbows on his chest and gently stroked the mark you had just left,

“This is a mark only for those who need to be protected. I don't know what you've been through, but as long as I'm here, I'll be your bodyguard, protect you like how you 'hired' me before."

You looked at him and smiled mischievously, making Rafayel sink into his old distant memories.

The girl in the Lemurian outfit, radiant as the sun, smiled and declared that she would give him everything. He was her belief, and she would become his faith. She always stood on an equal footing with him, never backing down.

While reminiscing about that distant memory, Rafayel felt a gentle pat on his face. You were staring at him with scrutinizing eyes. Before Rafayel could even react, you had pressed down on him. Seeing his ears gradually turn red, you blew gently on it and teased,

"But let me warn you, my bodyguard fees aren’t cheap."

[azukiel]

Nightfall Heir Chapter 1

🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW

Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Kidnapping, Pregnancy and Childbirth

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 |

⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐

Summary: Two years have passed since the events surrounding the destruction of the Absolute. Baldur's Gate is slowly rebuilding itself from the rubble, and you and your companions have established yourselves within the city to help in its restoration.

You and your vampiric lover, Astarion, had been nigh inseparable since coming back together. Yet a certain turn of events saw to your kidnapping and then... to your unexpected pregnancy.

🔥Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 🔥

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As you lay in Astarion’s arms, you relished in the bliss that coddled your heart.

Alas, your mind wandered. It had not always been like this.

Blissful.

Your memories vividly recalled the time you had first laid with him, the time where the soft glow of fireflies had danced in the air, casting shadows that whispered secrets into the grass beneath you. The subsequent times thereafter had also been a symphony of sensations - feverish rustling of bedsheets, and the intoxicating scents of his cologne mingled with the musky aromas of passion. Back then, Astarion had always assured you that your very essence would be enveloped in a euphoric blend of pleasure and ecstasy. However, beneath the surface of those passionate encounters lay a web of deception. Your trysts had been nothing more than a meticulously crafted facade, a mask to conceal the collective traumas that haunted you both. Astarion had sought protection and trust from you, while you had yearned for a semblance of true companionship and belonging from him.

Still, the scars you both carried were etched into your souls, impossible to conceal. They were etched into the very fabric of your beings, leaving invisible wounds that refused to heal.

You flinched at the painful recollections as you looked up again at his peaceful, sleeping face. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took in a deep breath. His scents of bergamot, rosemary and aged brandy eloped you with a warmth like a midsummer’s kiss. His enchanting perfume restored a sense of peace. Yet, the darkness that still lingered in the back of your mind clawed its way into your consciousness once more.

Shuddering, you pressed yourself harder against his body to shield yourself, and though, in his sleep, he tightened his arms around you, you felt your walls again crumble. As the salt of your tears stung at the corners of your eyes, your unscrupulous mind continued to ravish your heart…

You were flung back to your childhood, vividly recalling the relentless barrage of blows, the sound of bones cracking, the scathing verbal assaults, and the relentless condemnations. The overpowering stench of sweat and blood used to fill your nostrils as you were forced to confront opponents far stronger than yourself, all for the perverse amusement of the masses... enduring unspeakable torment that had assaulted your body and mind alike. Such was the brutal reality of the Drow society that had shaped your upbringing. And yet, your tortures were not so different to that of which your lover had suffered at the hands of his old tormentor, Cazador.

The torment you had both endured had left deep scars, which had resulted in your eventual separation. The memory of it lingered, triggering a silent sob from you. In the past, you and Astarion had made the mutual decision to remain ‘just companions,’ driven by guilt over having used each other as shields for your sufferings. It had seemed like the ideal solution, a way to aid in healing. But unbeknownst to either of you, it had only exacerbated the anguish, a truth you both refused to acknowledge, even to yourselves.

At least, not until the events in Cazador's gloomy prison had unfolded.

Your mind, shrouded in darkness, conjured up a vivid and haunting replay of the events...

Your heart had been torn asunder as you had watched Astarion confront his old, wicked master. The anguish inflicted upon Astarion had been unbearable, a raw wound visible in your eyes. Alas, the hunger for power had consumed him, a voracious appetite for ascension that had wrapped around him like a suffocating web. In a mere breath, the Astarion you had known and loved had vanished. The vibrant essence of the witty, sassy, and flamboyant Elven vampire you cherished had been replaced by a feral beast. The sight of his former slaver, now succumbed, bloodied and kneeling, blurred the line between captor and captive.

You recall having exerted every ounce of your strength, having plead with Astarion to resist the seductive pull of power, to spare the lives of the countless thralls and spawn. The weight of this decision had threatened to consume his true self, which would have rendered him unrecognizable. Unimaginable sorrow had consumed you as you had contemplated the magnitude of such a loss.

The anguished cries that had escaped him as he struck down Cazador had reverberated through your being, threatening to shatter your very core. Even though Astarion had eventually yielded to your pleas, a deep resentment had grown within him towards you.

Your mind then shifted to when you and your companions had returned to the Elvensong Tavern nigh your vampiric companion. Your body had trembled uncontrollably, with tears streaming down your face, your sobs wracking your entire being. The weight of your despair had felt like an unbearable burden, threatening to consume you entirely. You remember the painful pounding of your heart in your chest, the rhythm deafening in your ears, and your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to regain control. Halsin’s sudden powerful embrace had provided a sense of stability, and his firm hold had offered a sense of security that you had desperately needed in that moment. He was, in fact, the only companion strong enough to hold your arms to prevent you from burning down the place in your despair. You recalled the surrounding room blurring as your vision had become clouded by tears; the world reduced to a haze of pain and anguish.

The others, your companions, had surrounded you, and eventually their presence had become a comfort amidst the chaos. Their words of reassurance and support had washed over you, their soothing voices attempting to ease the torment that had consumed your mind. Though their words had been barely audible through the fog of your despair, their presence alone provided a sense of unity and shared strength.

Sighing inwardly as you nestled yourself in the crook of Astarion’s shoulder, you remembered that back in that tavern on that night, time had seemed to lose all meaning to you. You had continued to tightly cling to Halsin as he cradled you, and your body had gradually succumbed to exhaustion.

After what had felt like an endless stretch of time, Astarion had finally returned. You recall that the room had been dimly lit by then, and the dancing candle light had cast long shadows on the worn wooden floor. You had heard the faint echoes of his fervent apologies, his voice trembling with remorse. The weight of his rage, which had been directed solely at you, had torn through your heart like a sharp knife. Truly, you hadn’t blamed him. It had been a battle within himself, a struggle to maintain control. Nevertheless, it had still shattered your already delicate heart and mind.

And then you recollected, amidst the heaviness of the situation, he having expressed his gratitude. The words had hung in the air as he had thanked you for rescuing him from the brink of losing his very self. You had saved him from becoming a reflection of the one he despised most in the world. Cazador Szarr.

Late that same night, under the glowing moonlight, he had guided you through the calm silence of the local cemetery. After having reached a secluded plot, he had unveiled a tombstone that had been crafted for him upon his ‘death’ as a mortal elf. The tombstone had stood there, adorned with weathered vines, a testament to the passaging of two long centuries. The air surrounding you both had carried a hint of mustiness and an earthy scent, mingling with the faint aroma of decaying leaves. A chilling breeze had whispered through the graveyard, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Astarion’s voice had broken the silence then, and he described how this tombstone represented not only the end of his previous life in Cazador’s clutches, but also the death of the creature he could have become had he ascended. In that moment, he had realised he was no longer a mere spawn, but finally, truly free.

And as he often reminded you, even now, it had all been because of your unwavering perseverance, infinite patience, and resolute devotion. Your enduring devotion to him. For that, he had fallen profoundly for you and had not hesitated to confess his adoration right in front of his grave. He had not hesitated to guide you down onto the mound of earth, where your bodies soon intertwined with an intense fervour, either.

You remembered the fierce emotions that had flooded your body. Every touch and every caress from Astarion had sent shivers down your spine, electrifying your skin and loins with an unbearable ecstasy. The air around you had seemed to crackle with an intoxicating energy, as if the gods themselves had acknowledged the depth of your connection.

Your breath had hitched with each movement, the anticipation coursing through your veins. The taste of passion had lingered on your lips as a mix of desire and a hint of rebellion. The gritty texture of the earth beneath you had only heightened the rawness of the moment, grounding you in the physicality of your love.

You bit your bottom lip with the memories which now overwhelmed your senses. You felt it all again. With each feverish thrust, the passion had intensified. The heat between your bodies had grown to burning new heights and had wrapped you both in a cocoon of shared desire. Astarion’s touch had ignited a fire within you as his hands had explored every inch of your body with a frenzied hunger. The world around you then had faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you entangled in a dance of unbridled passion.

In that moment, the boundaries of time and place had ceased to exist. Moans and gasps had mingled in the air, a symphony of pleasure and longing as you had moved together with an unspoken understanding.

It had been just you and him in that graveyard, your souls entwined as one. The world could have crumbled around you once again, yet you would have remained oblivious, lost in the sheer intensity of your love.

You trembled at the memory of the last echoes of ecstasy fading away, and the intense heat between your thighs after he had filled you. You had found solace in the knowledge that your devotion had been reciprocated with equal fervor.

As your mind floated back to your present time, you shivered again at the sudden delicious tingle at your junction, a soft moan escaping your lips. You froze, glancing up at your sleeping lover, hoping you had not been loud enough to stir him, but he was as still as the tombstone that adorned his grave. Which brought your salacious thoughts back to that night. That night had cemented your relationship once and for all. He was now yours and you were now his and the both of you had been inseparable since that night two years ago.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

Most believe that vampires do not exist. That their just an old tale that has been reused countless times in the forms of horror in romance. But you know otherwise. After all, vampires do have a special affection for you for reasons unknown. Delving into the world of the night is something totally different though. Especially for someone who’s been trying to avoid these creatures that practically hunt you.

But then, one step closer in the form of a vampire you accidentally befriend and the slope becomes slippery.

It’s time you learned what happens during hours in the moonlight by the side of vampires who come in the form of friends, allies, and potentially foes.

Here it is! My Twisted Wonderland Vampire AU! I hope you all enjoy!!

Vampires Don't Eat Potatoes

Getting Late

The Same Red

A Vampire Hunter or Something

Far More Charming

Shatter to a Billion Piece

Can't Control Others' Actions

Questions to be Asked

Nothing Good

Of All People

Holy Water, Stakes, and Other Such Things

The Start Line

The New Hunter

A Return to Normalcy

Mirrors

Continue As Planned

New to this World

The Masked Man

Aesthetic for Fairest Midnight Playlist for Fairest Midnight

First Night on the Job

A Lion's Den

An Untamed Predator

Working Together

See This Through

Something to Prove

Were-vampires

A Word of Advice

Tougher Than You Seemed

Protect Our Own

Six Hours

Hunter Becomes The Hunted

Promise

Time With You

The Last of Me

Aesthetic for Persevering Afterlight Playlist for Persevering Afterlight

Good Question

An Oddity

I Must Insist

No Harm in Being Cautious

A Sort of Game Plan

Hypnosis

Memories

Hard Evidence

Chained

Trust

Pinkie Swear

Steamroll Into a Situation

Better to be Safe Than Sorry

Power and Control

Ready To Move On

Aesthetic for Guileful Nightfall Playlist for Guileful Nightfall

Aesthetic for Somnolent Gloaming Playlist for Somnolent Gloaming

Dead Memories and the Undead

A Strange One

More and More Questions

Someone of Incredible Importance

Quite the Interesting Endeavor

Stick With the Stairs

Alike in This Regard

A Nickname or Something

Strange Characters

Befitting a Knight

Need Only Wish

New Questions

Sounds of Fighting

Properly Cared For

Indebted

Come Back Tomorrow

Coming Soon!

If you would like to read more fics like these, my Twisted Wonderland Master-List can be found here: Twisted Wonderland Master-List.

[adrianvokov]

headers willemmy like

[shadowfalllen]

Kinktober 2024: Day 10 - Face-sitting

In Her Dark Embrace

As a moonless night descends on Baldur's Gate, the Cloister of Somber Embrace readies for a Nightfall ritual in honor of their dark goddess, Shar. You, a devoted Sharran acolyte, are unexpectedly paired with the enigmatic Mother Superior Shadowheart for the ritual's final, forbidden act—a shared moment of wickedness that will test your loyalty to the shadows…

[nonokoko-is-daydreaming]

Spy x family masterlist

Old links redirect you to my main blog. This is because they were written before I created this one.

☁︎ = Headcanons

✰ = One shot

❥ = x reader

✉ = Letter

The Forgers

✰ Forgers' Christmas Preparations

☁︎❥ Forgers x Robot child!reader 🤖

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Loid Forger | Agent Twilight

TBA

Yor Briar | Thorn Princess

☁︎ Yor doing her nails

Anya Forger

✰ A for Anya | Pt. 2

☁︎❥ Anya with a psychic!babysitter

Yuri Briar

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Sylvia Sherwood | The Handler

Fiona Frost | Agent Nightfall

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Franky Franklin

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Daybreak

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Camilla

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

Dominic

☁︎ Some characters as parents (ft. Yuriona, Twiyor, Dominic x Camilla)

AUs

Spy x families

☁︎ Initial concept

☁︎ Second concept | The daughters | Their powers (DISCARDED)

SWAP AU

☁︎ General hcs | ☁︎ Yor or Yuri

[entropical-punch]

Alright everyone, I haven't written anything here in a while and I need some fresh ideas. I'm taking anything and everything under consideration. No promises it'll lead to something, but I wanna get the creative juices flowing, y'know?

Do your worst.

[skylandersandyou]

Can I request nightfall x reader

Yes

Nightfall

She’s stoic, but her love for you is rarely questioned as she gives words of affirmation and also cooked deep sea eldritch being for dinner

Would take you on some adventures depending on your comfort and skill, loves monster hunting with you

However she also loves returning to you with her prize catch, or if returning from a mission… someone to hold her at home and not face the horrors ™

Likes to sleep in with you, nicely and comfortably snug in her arms… until High Volt kicks her ass to get up

[azukiel]

*sweats* shit shit shit shit SHIT

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!? AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

Well, Nightfall Heir is going to have some more *ahem* ideas implemented idc...

From Dusk until Dawn

“How can I trust”

“How will I ever know”

“How can I show myself, my darkest me”

Series of Drawings of Astarion and Halsin to create a full scene. I didn’t anticipate fully redrawing the first one but I did.

Quote is from a book of a play in the Arcane Tower. It feels relevant for general Astarion romance.

[undertale-writing-times]

Ummm... More Nightfall X Reader? I love him...

Since you didn't give me a prompt number, I decided to give myself one :)

There was a random number picker that I used. I'm also writing one that would be long. It's just taking me a bit to get that one finished cause I want to finish other ones too.

It would be hard to not notice that Nightfall had been acting a tad... strange, lately.

Whenever you two were together, he would look nervous tapping his thumbs together, and looking off away from you. He got calls more often than you would like to admit, and whenever he slept, he would leave his phone on lock. You didn't even know that he knew how to do that! He hated using the phone and things like that, he said that they made him feel strange.

So why, as of lately, has he been using it so often?

You were afraid to ask, so you didn't. Just waited and watched. 

You knew, at least in the back of your head, that he wouldn't cheat on you or anything. You two had been together for... so long! At least 5 years It most likely wasn't a lot for him, though for you, it was because you were just a human.

What if he is cheating on you, as you are just a human? What if he was scared of you dying, or something? He's been speaking about something called a soul bond, what is that? He wouldn't explain and seemed sheepish whenever you asked.

You had nobody to talk to about this.

Nightfall wouldn't cheat on you, you knew that he wouldn't, you were his datemate and he said that he loved you so often.

Every time you two fall asleep together, he would hold you, his tentacles wrapped around you loosely. He wouldn't hold you like that, if he was cheating, right?

Too many thoughts were rushing through your mind, you almost didn't hear the phone ringing. When it finally cut through and you reached over to pick it up, you could hear Solar's voice "Hey Y/n!" 

Solar? What was he calling you for? Nightfall and Solar didn't often get along, but they've been trying to get close again. Solar said the past was behind them and Nightfall often looked guilty. 

"H...Hey? What's up what do you need?" 

"Wellll do you think we can hang out? It's been a while! Meet me here" then he said an address and hung up before you could even answer.

You blink once, then twice, looking at the phone tilting your head to the side. Even Solar was using the phone?

Okay, what the hell was going on?

You nibble your bottom lip, staring down at the address. What if you didn't go? They were planning something, you knew it. Damn, this wasn't good for your anxiety. Not at all. You felt nervous.

Breathing in and out slowly, you push yourself to get up, and head to where the address told you to go.

It was starting to get late, was Solar even going to be awake when you got there? What if he wasn't? A little weird that someone that slept during the night would invite you over to just a bit before it was night time, right?

Yet, even so, you decided to ignore that. If they invited you to come over, then he must want something. Even if it is just to hang out a little at first. 

When you got to the place that he asked you to come to, you saw it wasn't exactly what you were expecting. 

There was a cave beside the ocean, you could hear the sound of waves crashing against the sand, and inside the cave there were lights. What the hell? You gulp down your nerves, and slowly walk in your eyes scanning around.

The lights were pretty, shining brightly in the darkness, and you could hear music playing. Oh damn, was this where you're about to die? That’s the only thing you could picture. Nightfall and Solar were going to kill you, for what reason? You had no idea.

Ugh, why did your mind go straight to the bad thing so often? That isn't fair, you knew that Nightfall would never want to hurt you. He was your datemate, and you his. He loved you more than anything! Well... maybe not anything, as the sky was so special to him, but he told you that you were like a star to him, and that meant a lot.

Even if most people wouldn't realize.

As you got closer to the end of the cave, you stop when you saw Nightfall sitting on a rock, seeming to be waiting until he saw you, and he smiles "Ah Y/n, there you are" he pushes himself to get up, walking over taking your hands into his own. You could feel the slight chill from the sludge that coated him. He never did explain where that came from.

"Yeah," you nod slightly, tilting your head to the side "I'm here, why are you? Solar asked me to come over and told me to come here... what's going on?"

"Well... we have been together for quite a bit of time now," Nightfall starts, the sparkles in his body shining brighter something you've noticed happens when he gets embarrassed, "And I have decided that this will be the best time for me to ask this big question" he looks down at the ground, moving down onto one knee, and holds out a box, which had a ring in it that sparkles slightly in the faint light “Please, marry me?”

Oh damn.

This was really happening?

You couldn't bring yourself to answer at first, staring at him with wide eyes. He wanted you to marry him? For real? You gulp then smile and lean down hugging him tightly starting to press kisses against his skull/face while making sure to be careful not to knock him back.

So that's why he's been acting so weird! That makes sense.

You were so happy.

[azukiel]

Nightfall Heir Chapter 9

🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW

Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Kidnapping, Pregnancy and Childbirth

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐

Summary: Two years have passed since the events surrounding the destruction of the Absolute. Baldur's Gate is slowly rebuilding itself from the rubble, and you and your companions have established yourselves within the city to help in its restoration.

You and your vampiric lover, Astarion, had been nigh inseparable since coming back together. Yet a certain turn of events saw to your kidnapping and then... to your unexpected pregnancy.

🔥Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 🔥

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It was almost dawn by the time Astarion and the others returned to the house. Of which day, though, you were not to know. You had been still slipping in and out of consciousness. Halsin put you into a deeper, more restful slumber so that your dreams would not torment you and you could heal better.

Astarion and the others were visibly exhausted as they stumbled in through the front door, their armour dripping with sweat and copious amounts of sanguine fluids. The others in the group, however, looked paler than the vampiric-elf himself.

“What happened? Are you all ok?” Shadowheart’s voice was full of worry.

Gale nodded, his hands were still trembling. “Our bodies are unscathed, mostly. But... it is going to take a while longer to erase what happened from our minds.”

Shadowheart and Halsin looked at them, confused. Astarion’s gaze was austere and brooding.

“Carnage. Pure, bloody fucking carnage!” Karlach piped up then, her voice rather one of excitement, as she was still giddy from the event.

“Honestly, Astarion,” Lae’zel continued, a somewhat proud look on her face, “I knew all had reason to fear you, but this night truly emphasized that fact.”

“They had it coming.” Was all Astarion replied as he looked over at you, his eyes drooping with a deep anguish.

“How is she?” His voice came out small, almost meek.

Halsin looked sympathetically back at him. He put his hand on his younger counterpart’s shoulder and squeezed gently, trying to calm his nerves. “As well as could be expected. She should recover.”

Astarion’s breath escaped him, and tears began to cascade down his pale features, streaking rivulets through the caked blood and grime on his face. The others looked at each other knowingly before looking back at Astarion, their eyes full of sympathy and understanding.

“We will go to barracks and clean up there.” Wyll spoke once more. “We will return later, after we’ve all had some rest and recuperation.”

Halsin nodded in agreement to Wyll’s suggestion, and as they all filed back out the door, they either patted Astarion on the back or shoulder in reassurance, showing their understanding.

“We already bathed here. I hope you do not mind.” Shadowheart spoke up after a few moments when Wyll, Karlach, Gale, and Lae’zel had left.

“No..no, of course not.” Astarion smiled faintly, attempting some form of decorum. Yet, he could not help but sob within his attempts to remain composed.

“It is alright to weep, my friend.” Halsin patted him on the shoulder again. “It’s healthier to let it out than to keep it all pent up inside.”

“I know...” Astarion seemed more frustrated by himself than anything. “We could not find her...” His teeth gritted as flashes of what had occurred that night flooded his mind.

“Who, Astarion?”

“Faceless.” His tone was bitter, angered and frustrated as he balled his hands at his sides. “She escaped... that fucking murderous bitch escaped... left the remnants of her coven to meet my blades. And meet my blades, they did. I gorged on their blood and left their innards sprawled along the walls and their limbs strewn along the floors. Faceless will have nothing but the entrails of her comrades to return to. And when she returns, I will hunt her. I will hunt her to the ends of Faerûn and rip her fucking throat out.”

With each spoken word, his anger only intensified. Shadowheart put her hand upon his arm to calm his ever-growing ire. The tears only cascaded faster down his cheeks then, creating muddy paths from their mingling with the crimson life force of the fallen.

“She will pay, my friend,” she tried to soothe him, yet even her voice shook with rage. “But now you must clean yourself up and get some rest. I am sure Tav will recover quicker with you close to her.”

Astarion wiped his wet face roughly, not bothering to address his utter shame at his outbursts. In a way, he found it almost relieving that his companions saw his weaknesses and felt them as he did. After all, they had been through countless trials together. He knew their allegiance would never wane. That thought alone caused his sobs to abate and gave way to some semblance of peace.

“Indeed,” Halsin concurred. “Rest yourself for now. Shadowheart and I shall rest soon after.”

Astarion nodded. “The guest rooms are at your disposal. And thank you. Thank you both for everything you have done for her. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Repayment is not needed. It’s what friends are for.” Halsin responded with a kind smile.

“Exactly.” Shadowheart reiterated. “You both would not hesitate to do the same for any of us.”

Astarion flushed through the blood and grime that streaked his porcelain features. “Indeed, we would. Now please, go rest. I will wash up and take vigil over her.”

Halsin nodded in agreement as he stifled a yawn. Looking out the doors of your balcony, he could see the hint of sun coming over the horizon.

“Lathander is bringing upon a new day, Astarion. Did you happen to find her ring?”

Astarion’s tired eyes shot open in remembrance. Shoving his hand in under his leather Drow armour, he bought out the ring... still attached to a rather pointed finger. Halsin and Shadowheart’s mouths dropped agape.

Astarion pulled the ring off the finger and stared at the finger with disgust.

“I was able to cut it off the bitch’s hand before she escaped,” he explained. Taking a deep waft of the finger’s scent, he promptly threw it out the open door with such force it flew far enough to fall into the river, which flowed at the far end of the garden.

“Now I will remember the cunt’s scent. I will hunt her down and destroy her if it is the last thing I do.” His face once more filled with rage and resolve, causing Halsin to look at Shadowheart with a concerned expression. They knew Astarion would keep to his word. He was resolute and stubborn like that. Alas, Astarion now, of all times, needed to be re-centered, especially now that you, his beloved, were with child.

“Astarion,” Halsin began calmly, “go and clean yourself up. When you’re done, you and I need to have a talk.”

Astarion’s expression turned to one of confusion then, but he did not question the Archdruid’s command, and went to do what he was told.

When he returned after a while, Shadowheart was now downstairs in one of the guestrooms asleep, and Halsin was sitting on the chair he had brought into the main bedroom, watching you as you slept. Upon entering the room, Halsin looked up at him with a tired but warm smile.

“Take a seat,” he motioned to the side of the bed. Astarion did so, looking down at you for a moment before he refocussed his attention on the much bigger elf.

Halsin leaned forward and gently placed the palm of his hand on your stomach, and this time, Astarion noted his action.

He squinted slightly as he spoke, “What... what are you doing?” Astarion asked, confused.

Halsin smiled broadly this time, making Astarion suddenly grow uneasy at his obvious joy.

“My hand is not merely upon her stomach...” the druid began, smiling calmly.

Astarion blinked hard, still very befuddled. “Speak plainly, Halsin,” he demanded, a slight frown knotting his brow.

Halsin tilted his head for a moment before answering. “There is something you need to know about Tav, something she was not aware of, or too shocked and afraid to tell you.”

Astarion’s mind had churned rapidly, all of Halsin’s words spinning into a chaotic clutter in his head.

“Is she dying, Halsin?! Is that what you are telling me?”

Halsin could not help but chuckle softly at Astarion’s conclusion.

“No, my dear friend,” he reassured. “She is quite the contrary.”

Astarion blinked hard again. “What, Halsin?! What in the Nine Hells is it?”

“She is with child.”

Astarion just stared at Halsin in pure and utter disbelief, and Halsin kept a level and sympathetic gaze with him as the news settled upon Astarion’s fraying senses.

“How is that... that possible? I’m technically... dead!”

“Undead.” Halsin corrected with a grin. “But undead can procreate when coupled with life.”

“Wh... what?” Astarion stuttered, his eyes wide and still clouded with confusion.

“Dhampir.” Halsin stated.

Astarion’s lip drooped as he continued to look blankly, the words not yet settling in his tired mind.

Halsin cupped Astarion’s shaking hand with his large palm and guided his hand to the very tiny bump of your abdomen, leaving Astarion’s cold fingers resting gently there.

“Close your eyes, my friend. Let me guide you.”

Astarion complied with Halsin’s request. As instructed, his eyelids fluttered closed.

“Focus all of your senses on her. Feel every sensation within reach. Close yours around your little babe here inside; let nothing else distract from their presence.”

It was barely perceptible, but to a vampire’s keen wits and the help of Halsin’s magic, the ever-so-faint essence of a new soul graced Astarion’s senses. His eyes shot open, his mouth fell slightly agape. How had he not sensed this before? Had he been so wrapped up with his carnal pleasures with you for him to have noticed? Then why had he not noticed during normal times? Surely he had not been that distracted?

“Now the real work begins, my friend.” Halsin grinned.

Astarion snapped back to reality, the daze within him beginning to lift. His face still looked stunned, like an anvil had slammed into his forehead. Were those tears he could feel stinging the corner of his eyes?

“What exactly are you insinuating?” Astarion queried hesitantly, afraid of what Halsin may reply, feeling nervous about whatever news the Archdruid was about to relay to him. Astarion knew almost nothing of children, childbirth, or even child-rearing. Whatever little he had learnt was from all your previous interactions with them back in camp and at the new orphanage Halsin had established in what were the old Shadowlands - now Lightlands - as Halsin had nicknamed it. But babies? No. Absolutely nothing. Though contemplating, or perhaps lamenting at the inability to have children with you had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

“Besides hunting down and destroying that woman that haunts us all... you will have to be the spearhead that guides and supports Tavrin through the emotional and bodily changes she will experience with her pregnancy and then the pains of childbirth, for her sake, and the safety of the babe’s.”

Halsin’s words came down like a sledgehammer. Astarion’s jaw clenched immediately. He suddenly found himself dumbfounded, his speech almost robbed by the notion of becoming a parent. Him, a parent?

He looked between your sleeping form and Halsin, who was now eyeing him inquisitively.

“Is...is this real? There’s absolutely no mistake?”

Halsin sighed and his jaw tensed. “Of course, this is no mistake, Astarion. You are going to be a father.”

“Me?” Astarion’s voice quivered coarsely.

Halsin chuckled. “Of course, you. Who else?”

Astarion then eyed the Archdruid, causing the bear of an elf to blush and clear his throat.

“My friend, the three of us have not continued our secret tryst in quite some time. Of course you are the father. Tav would have it no other way.”

“I...am going to be a father...” The words rolled out of Astarion’s lips as easily as the salt of his tears that now rolled down his cheeks. He broke into a bright and joyful smile as the tears kept flowing. Leaning over, Astarion embraced Halsin tightly, making the larger man blush furiously. But he did not repel from the embrace, but rather relished in it. He cared deeply for the both of you, and perhaps missed the naughty nights the three of you spent with each other on the odd occasion. Halsin hoped, truly, that you would find yourselves living in peace with this child and that Faceless would no longer hound you and continue to threaten the happiness you two had built together. But the threat she still posed lingered darkly in all your minds.

Both pulling away gently, Astarion wiped his dampened eyes with his sleeve. “I’m still having a hard time believing it. I mean, I do now but... everything I had learnt about vampirism and my kind, which was very little, came from Cazador. He ensured the shroud was kept pulled well over our eyes. Being undead and all, I thought it would be impossible for us to conceive children. I now stand corrected.”

Halsin nodded, relieved that he was gradually opening up about it.

“There is one thing I know, though.” Halsin began. “Only true vampires are able to conceive with other humanoid creatures, and now that Cazador is out of the picture, well, technically, you are now a true vampire.”

Astarion pondered on Halsin’s words for a moment. “You are right...”

“Have you and Tavrin discussed offspring at all before, by any chance?” Halsin smiled softly. “Even briefly?”

“No...” Astarion paused for a moment, gazing tenderly at the smooth features of your bruised and battered face, “But honestly... it has crossed my mind on more than one occasion.”

“This can only mean one thing,” Halsin deduced as he shifted to take hold of Astarion’s chin, forcing him to avert his loving gaze away from your body to meet his. “The gods have spoken.” Halsin let go of him, a mischievous grin slipping across his broad chin.

Astarion could not help but chuckle. “I did not take you for being the teasing type, Halsin.”

“I guess the children’s humour has rubbed off on me,” he laughed as he referred to the many children that were keeping Thaniel and Oliver company back at the orphanage. “And soon there will be the pitter-patter of a little Astarion and Tavrin running around! Gods be willing, perhaps many pitter-patters of tiny feet to fill your new home!”

Astarion sat back and blinked. “Multiple offspring?”

“If you both remain busy.” Halsin teased further.

Astarion gulped. “Ah.. well, then I hope I shall live to see these ‘pitter-pattering of feet’, as you put it.”

Halsin laughed and clapped Astarion across the back jovially. “Don’t be so forlorn, my friend. All will be well with us watching over each other.”

“I know. It’s just that... I’m still reeling from all that has happened and now with this bombshell... I don’t know what to think. But I have to thank you again, Halsin, for everything. I have to thank all of you, to be honest, but you especially. I never would have thought I would have bonded with a bear of a druid so well.” He laughed at the motion, causing Halsin himself to chuckle.

“And me being a disciple of the Oak-father, never would have thought I would have coupled with an undead and a drow from the Underdark, for that matter, but here we are!”

Astarion went silent and looked thoughtfully towards his love. “Speaking of couplings...” Astarion trailed off. “Would you endure one more favour for me?”

Halsin blinked. “Oh?” He looked at Astarion curiously, his own heart beginning to pound in his chest. “A-another threesome?”

Astarion chuckled cheekily, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I would not say no to that, but we must wait to see what our beloved Tav has to say.” His eyes narrowed on Halsin, and his grin turned salacious. “Though I am sure she would not abhor the thought. The nights the three of us have spent fucking till the morning birds sang sure were deliciously fun.”

Halsin felt his cheeks heat at the memories. They had been, indeed.

“But that is a favour for perhaps another time,” Astarion continued, his tone becoming more serious once again.

“All this cultist blood I gorged on has made me feel somewhat sick to the stomach. My palette needs cleansing and well,” he looked back down at you. “With Tav in such a state, obviously I cannot feed from her...”

“You want to feed from me?” Halsin raised a thick eyebrow.

“Only for a few moments. Just enough to get this foul blood flushed through my system and to curb the worst of my hunger. And well, with our history of the three of us... I thought perhaps you might be willing to share just a little of your healing with me?”

Halsin’s smile then took Astarion aback. He was not expecting the Archdruid to actually agree.

“As a druid, it is my duty to regenerate life. If I can give you life anew, then I will do so by whatever means necessary, my friend.”

“I never would have imagined the Oak-father to endorse such decadence between us...” Astarion started, unable to hide his amusement, yet his voice turned grave. “That is, if he actually does, of course. Not like I care, but you…”

Halsin drew Astarion in close then, much to the vampiric-elf’s shock. He pulled away just far enough to stare Astarion in his faint crimson eyes.

“Life is life, Astarion,” he murmured, a low growl entering his voice. “To celebrate giving life in whatever form one might encounter should be reason enough to bring a smile to anyone’s lips.”

The fire in Halsin’s voice stirred both fear and lust in Astarion. Yes, the three of you had some... heated interactions in the past, but this time... something felt different. Was it perhaps the emotions stirred from discovering about the unborn child, or was it merely because Halsin and his power were both desirable and dangerous and incredibly alluring, or a bit of everything, really? Either way, his cock was starting to feel tight.

Halsin placed his finger firmly beneath Astarion’s chin. “Tavrin is fast asleep and well,” his finger left his chin then and traced a trail along your elegant jaw.

His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “As the Oak-father made me a protector and a healer of the woodlands, it would be an absolute sin not to bless your carnal thirst with my own essence of life.”

Astarion squirmed in his spot and gripped his thighs tightly. That sentence alone was enough to make him grow fully hard beneath his leather trousers. Halsin, knowingly, grinned.

“That will have to wait until Tav gives us all permission, if she has the will or needs to do so,” he added as he looked at Astarion’s growing arousal.

Halsin looked away then, pushing down his own growing lust that he felt towards you both. He could not help but reminisce on the beauty of you taking hold of him, and the desire to embrace you again as he had the past times the three of you were in bed together. He could not help but shiver at the desire to have Astarion covet him with affections once more. The three of you in a sweaty, tangled mess, riding each other into oblivion, moaning and crying your praises of each other. How his mind wanted him to believe it could happen then, but with your safety a constant priority, and you currently teetering between the Abyss and the divine, Halsin would not break his promise to the Woodland Whisperer to look after you and the child within your womb first.

Astarion nodded, and a sudden guilt gripped him. “I won’t feed from you without her permission, despite my own predicament right now.” He looked down at his hardened member as it pressed against its trappings, and his brow furrowed. “I do not want to betray her. I would never...”

“I understand your sentiments,” Halsin reassured gently.

“Though I must remind you rather amusingly that it was her who initiated our little... understanding.”

Astarion could not help but chuckle then. He could remember it well. “Oh trust me, I know. And I’ll have you know, that of all of you that had tried to woo her and get into her panties at one point or another, which is all of you to be honest, you are the only one I was willing to accept aside from myself, of course.”

Halsin laughed jovially. “And I am honoured, my friend.” He glanced down again at Astarion’s tented crotch pressing up painfully under those tight leather pants. He fought his continued urges to ease the Elven vampire out of his troubles.

“Now, I think we all need to sleep,” he began, once more pushing such lurid thoughts from his mind. “Put the Eclipsed Radiance back on her finger lest you lose it and then get some rest. We can all talk again after we’ve rested enough.”

“Yes, of course.” Astarion cleared his throat as he took the ring from his clean shirt pocket and slipped it back onto your ring finger. As he did so, Halsin had stood to close the doors and curtains.

“Sleep well, Astarion.” The bear of a druid squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “And remember, all will be well.”

Astarion nodded. “Thank you again, Halsin, for everything. I owe you all a great debt.”

Halsin smiled gently. “You owe us nothing, my friend.” And with those words, he left your bedroom, closing the door behind him gently.

Sighing, Astarion slipped under the blankets and curled up beside you, watching your plump chest rise and fall from your breathing. Though your breath was still somewhat laboured, Halsin and Shadowheart’s healing was repairing you slowly. And for that, Astarion was eternally grateful.

Gently, he reached his arm over you to place his hand once more upon your stomach, focussing his senses and energy as Halsin had shown him.

After a few minutes of silence, you inhaled deeply and groaned, but remained in slumber.

Astarion stiffened as your breath rattled against his ears, and his senses focused back on your breathing.

“Just sleep, my dear. Sleep.” His words came out like a gentle plea.

With your steady and comforting breathing resuming, he felt assured that everything was finally calm. As he pressed his chest up against your sleeping form, his face rested gently against yours. Again, he focussed his senses to where his hand rested upon your belly, and a great warmth filled his entire being. He could feel them; the life that grew in you. He could now smell them, too, and tears welled up in his eyes again at the notion that all this was possible. Even though he had considered offspring before, he had never thought to bring it up to you, as he had always thought it impossible. You yourself had never mentioned children, either. Perhaps the both of you were too afraid or embarrassed to discuss it.

But it was real now, and his happiness swelled in his chest and he smiled at you sleeping beside him. If you would let him, he would love nothing more than to father more children with you one day. How he would manage running around with a gaggle of mini versions of you and himself he could not quite comprehend yet, but if it was with you, then he would manage. And with that thought lingering on his drowsy mind, he would strive to be the best father and partner that he could be.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Guileful Nightfall - 14. Power and Control

Summary: Unfortunately tracking down the rogue vampire meant one thing. Fighting the rogue vampire. And while you had help present, it was quite possible that they’d just end up making things more difficult. Especially since you still had Jamil and his issues to deal with.

Series Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ series/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 2370

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

Jamil came to a swift halt, letting me down as he scanned the area. I half stumbled around him, looking for Leona as my ears strained to pick up any sounds.

After a brief moment of silence, I glanced over at Jamil only to see him already staring at me as I shifted the strap of my bag. And I knew exactly what he was doing. He was waiting to see what I was going to do so he could plan his own moves accordingly.

I felt my eyebrows arch at him before I glanced down, unzipping my bag and pulling out my crossbow. I loaded it with a single stake before starting off into the shadowed building and leaving him to follow me.

He let out a sigh from behind me but followed nonetheless. Glancing around as we continued forwards before he tensed, shifting in front of me seconds before I heard it. A hissing snarl followed by the sounds of something slamming into something else.

“Sounds like your friend found the vampire,” Jamil’s voice was low as he glanced my way with one arched brow. Waiting to see how I would react and what I would do.

I merely nodded, meeting his gaze with a wholly unsurprised expression, “Sounds like it.”

With only those words, I trotted forward, using the concrete pillars as shields. Jamil followed along beside me before giving me a slight glance with a raised eyebrow and zipping forward.

I leaned around the pillar I was currently pressed against in time to see him slam into a vampire. I blinked in slight surprise, because I genuinely hadn’t expected for him to be the type to outright attack, but then I felt myself frown as I started looking around. Because despite what we’d heard, Leona was nowhere to be seen. 

He had to be here somewhere, though.

No sooner than I’d had that thought, the man himself had emerged from the shadows, his eyes staying on the fight before they flashed over my way. Finding me immediately in the darkness before he nodded.

I frowned, but nodded in return. Evidently enough, there was no getting around the typical handling of this vampire. And judging from the concrete dust coating Leona’s person, he’d certainly tried to deal with this one.

I raised my crossbow, aiming carefully, and feeling my frown deepen the longer I tried to aim. Because there was absolutely no way I could hit the vampire with Jamil where he was. 

I lowered my crossbow once more. Yelling would get Jamil to move, but would also alert the vampire to my location. But… Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“JAMIL!” The young man whirled at my shout, leaping away from the rogue vampire, who also spun to look at me. Its eyes wide with insane excitement as they landed on me all too quickly as a twisted grin stretched across its face.

I jerked my crossbow back up, firing as quickly as possible before turning and running as the vampire dove towards both me and the stake flying through the air. Jamil and Leona hot on its heels.

I heard it let out something akin to a gasp and looked back to see the stake sticking out of it’s shoulder from where it had jerked out the way at the last second.

It stared at it, a trembling hand reaching towards the wood that stuck out of its shoulder before stopping mere inches from the stake.

I grimaced as its eyes snapped back up to where I stood, a grin creeping back into its face as it inhaled like an excitable monster. Its fangs glinting in the dim light provided by the parking deck’s broken, flashing lights.

I shifted though, bracing myself as I shoved a secondary stake into my crossbow and aimed.

It dove forward as I fired, willing my hands not to tremble. 

Simultaneously, Jamil and Leona launched themselves. Jamil reaching for the other vampire as Leona dove after him with an annoyed sound. 

And I almost dropped the crossbow as I realized what might happen. 

I could only hope Leona would stop Jamil before he reached the vampire or that Jamil would be just slow enough. After all, those stakes typically went all the way through, and if Jamil was holding onto the vampire….

The stake flew through the air, slamming into its target unforgivingly as Jamil was yanked to an abrupt stop by Leona.

My eyes widened as the vampire continued forward, though, and I all but had to throw myself to the side, landing hard against my bag on the ground in a way that I was confident would leave bruises. And I was just barely in time to miss the vampire barrelling through where I’d been standing.

I stared at it though. Unable to tear my eyes away as I watched as its grimy-looking hands curl around the stake like it wanted to grasp the wood before its motions aborted and it crumpled towards the ground with an agonized sound. 

I could clearly see Jamil’s unnerved expression as the vampire fell in a pile of ashes and the two stakes hit the ground between us with dull thudding sounds, and I exhaled. Letting out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding.

Leona let go of Jamil's collar. All but shoving the smaller man away as he practically growled at him, “Maybe trust the head-vampire’s Hunter next time and stay out of the way?”

Jamil stumbled slightly, shooting a look at Leona before looking my way.

And somehow Jamil’s expression alone told me his perception of me had just shifted. Because even if I hadn’t realized it until now, Jamil had previously been regarding me as someone he could easily control. Someone who wasn’t a grand threat but a person to be wary of.

Now though… Now he looked at me with something akin to respect, and I felt myself swallow thickly. 

Leona watched him, something akin to annoyance splaying across his face until he looked at me with a huff. Shattering the silence that stretched uncomfortably between us all like it was nothing at all, “I’ll tell my clan’s head about what happened.”

Jamil blinked before he turned, inclining his head to Leona as the other man turned. Getting ready to leave in that characteristic nonchalant fashion of his as he completely ignored Jamil.

 I still wondered how Leona could be so unbothered by seeing vampires get killed right in front of him. But at least this time it had gone over smoother than it had last time.

“Thank you for the assistance,” Leona’s eyebrows rose at the other man’s carefully deferent words before he snorted.

He looked at me with a slight smirk appearing on his face, “Just a bit of quid pro quo.” I frowned slightly at his words, knowing perfectly well what he meant. Our deal.

But even with his mocking sarcasm, I couldn’t deny that I did trust him far more than I did Jamil. 

Me and Leona had a working relationship. Me and Jamil…. It felt like there was mutual wariness here now. A tug of war with him trying to exert more control while I reeled back to maintain power over my own choices.

I stopped the leonine vampire as he started by me, meeting his gaze as I spoke with a faint smile, “Tell Jack and Ruggie I said hi.”

 He snorted slightly at my words before leaning down, his voice lowering to the point where I doubted Jamil could hear him, “You gonna be alright?”

His words caught me off guard, and I felt my eyes widen before I nodded and let go of his arm, murmuring a soft ‘Yeah’ as I broke eye contact with him. Half-surprised by his words and wondering if I should take them as genuine concern.

After all, I didn’t know how else I should interpret them, but I'd hardly expected such a thing from Leona. 

His eyes stayed on me for a brief moment longer, like he was weighing my words before he nodded and turned to leave. Disappearing into the night flawlessly. 

Just like a predator hiding itself in the name of a hunt.

I exhaled slightly before I looked towards Jamil, who was watching me once more and had been since I’d stopped Leona.

And I was already steeling myself for what came next. Because in light of everything that had just happened, it was time. I was going to finally confront him. I had to if I was ever going to be done with the Scarabia clan. And while I had no problems with Kalim, I was tired of this eternal game of power and control.

I walked over, first collecting the stakes and shoving them back into my bag along with my crossbow before I looked up at the young man who stood directly in front of me and now looked down at where I knelt.

There was risk in making eye contact with him. I knew that. But if I was going to assert that he couldn’t control me, then this was going to be the best way.

“I think it’s time we talked about something, don’t you?” I straightened as I spoke, shouldering my bag and holding his gaze all the while.

Jamil crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he gazed back at me, almost like he was sizing me up once more. Seeing if he’d missed anything in his previous evaluations.

He was a cautious man, seemingly well prepared for things, and someone a person could rely on if they could trust him. But, as of right now, that seemed like it was a pretty big if.

“Why did you hypnotize me into staying on my first day at the Scarabia clan?” If he was surprised by my words, it didn’t show on his face.

Rather, a grin spread across his face, and I suddenly felt like I was seeing the real Jamil. One that was no longer restrained by the careful mask he usually wore.

“So you did know about that,” He didn’t sound annoyed in the slightest. No, he sounded more like he was pleased to have been correct. His eyebrows rose though as he shifted slightly, “It was a precaution, that’s all.”

I frowned at his words, not trusting them for a second, “A precaution against what? It just made the Scarabia clan more suspicious.”

He leaned towards me, eyes glimmering with something when I stubbornly didn’t lean away or avert my gaze, “You still thought we were innocent though.”

“That was because of Kalim. Not you.” My tone was flat, and a frown flickered across his face that had my eyebrows arching, “He is the head of the clan, not you, Jamil. Even if you do handle a lot of the running of it.”

Jamil leaned back, that frown still on his face, “So you noticed that too….”

I tilted my head, a smile slipping onto my face, “Well, you did mention it that day in the library, and you were the one scaring the Scarabia vampires off from looking too closely at me.”

A chuckle huffed its way out of him at my words, “Yes. I made sure they’d assumed you were my prey. Though that ‘ally’ of yours from the Savanaclaw clan almost messed that up.”

His voice took on an annoyed tinge as he finished, and I felt my eyes widen as I realized exactly what he meant, “That’s why the other vampires were staring at us… They thought-”

“That I had competition because you were staying so close to him,” Jamil’s frown was deep, and I shook my head. Half-mystified and half-distressed. 

How many more times were random vampires going to just assume that I went with someone specific? First it had been Vil, now it had been Jamil and then Leona in quick succession.

Ignoring me, he continued as annoyance continued to fill his voice, “Kalim wasn’t helping either with how he kept clinging on to you, though.”

I stared at him, no longer bothering to conceal my surprise, “So they thought Kalim also…?” He looked my way, watching as I shook my head before more and more pieces fell into place.

I looked at him warily, “Then when you had me pinned against the door, that was too further convince them that-”

“You were mine? Yes,” He outright smirked at me, and I almost gritted my teeth at his smug expression.

Logically, I knew he’d done it to protect me, but it also felt like it was just another way of him exerting control and flexing his power while simultaneously assuming that I couldn’t handle myself.

Before I could stop myself, irritation surged through me, and I was speaking. Stepping closer to him as I spoke in a restrained voice, “Look, I get what you were doing, and I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need that kind of protection, and I certainly don’t belong to any of you, so I’ll thank you to not pretend otherwise.” 

I’d kept my voice level, even despite my frustration at both his assumptions and the way he’d guided others' perceptions of me, and his eyes widened slightly before a smile crept onto his face.

He leaned forward, causing my eyes to widen, and I even took a step back before he stopped myself. Knowing perfectly well that he’d interpret me retreating as some sort of his victory.

His face was mere inches from mine as he spoke again with a certain amused hiss to his words that had my eyes narrowing, “Understood.”

Understood… Yes, that was the situation at hand. 

I understood him now. That him hypnotizing me had largely been him flexing his control of the clan and nothing else.

I could only hope that he understood that I had enough power to stand on my own in the face of his schemes, though.

Judging from his expression, he certainly understood that he could get a reaction out of me now at the very least. Though I wasn’t entirely sure that I liked that since he also appeared to revel in that knowledge just a little bit too much.

If you would like to read more:

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[mina2000alex]

Nightfall (4)

Vampire! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3

Warnings: Dubious Consent, smut (18+), mostly dirty talk, some fucked up dynamics where he lets her press a stake to his heart, oral (f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, teasing.

For @stardustmorozov, Nicky I'm sorry but you're gonna yell at me again... and I'm gonna love it.

You sit on his bed, listening to the sound of the shower going. 

Your mouth tastes like spearmint, and your hair is still a little damp after your shower despite your attempts at blow drying.

You’re in one of his shirts, having raided his drawers when the duffel bag he’d given you earlier held nothing but sheer lingerie disguised as sleepwear.

Maybe you shouldn’t stay here, so instead you stand, and begin wandering around his apartment.

His bedroom is farthest from the front door, and you step out, roaming down the hallway, and stopping when you see another door.

It’s open, and you peek in to find an office that you promise yourself to explore after.

It’s the only door in the hallway, and the end of it opens up into a large area with a high ceiling. There’s his kitchen to your left, and on the opposite end of the room from where you are, is the living room area. There are no walls here, just windows that show off the glittering lights of the New York skyline at night. You wonder how he’s able to stand the sun, knowing that vampire eyes were hypersensitive to light, and that most of them avoided the sunlight. Only the very old ones, managed to walk in the sun like humans did. 

You tuck that snippet of information away for further examination.

You turn to examine the kitchen, scanning the cupboards, surprised to find regular household foods like pasta and rice, wondering if he had bought these items for you, or for other human friends of his.

Another hallway at the other end of the kitchen catches your eye, and you walk slowly, more deep in your own head than you were paying attention to the layout of his apartment.

You find the bedroom you’d first woken up in, all walls and no windows, a place that protects from the light, with its own en suite bathroom. You decide that maybe you can sleep here tonight, away from him and his wretched mouth. 

Backtracking, you look at the door for a long moment, before moving forward to examine it.

You reach for the handle, pushing down, you realise it’s locked. You sigh, eyes falling on the latched deadbolt, reaching up to open it, before trying the door handle again.

The door opens this time.

Your stomach twists.

Damn, had it really been that easy the entire time? You study the elevator just a few paces away from the door.

You don’t even think about it, closing the door and snapping the deadbolt shut.

You turn away from the door, and you gasp in fright as you see him standing just a few steps away. 

You jerk, back hitting the door as fright slams through you.

You suck in a deep breath, pressing your hand to your chest.

He’s only got a towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and shoulders still glistening with water after his shower.

You stare at each other, a silent showdown of who’s going to speak first.

Billy tilts his head, studying you intently.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Your brain comes up with the dumbest, most obvious answer possible.

“I’m- not wearing pants.”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

“We could go get some. Would you leave then?”

“No, cause it’s three in the morning and I’m tired.”

He takes a step toward you, a teasing smile on his pretty face. Your eyes trace the lines of his scars as he draws nearer. You relax as he approaches.

“And in the morning?” 

He’s so close now, you’re eye level with his dripping wet chest.

“Maybe. If I feel like it.” You whisper, studying the scars on his chest, and then flitting your gaze up to meet his.

He takes a deep breath, bracing one hand beside your head, and then after a moment, uses his other hand to trap you in place.

Except that you don’t feel trapped, all you feel is heated want.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” He asks, his voice stirs something inside of you, a dangerous feeling, something disastrous in the making.

“You can’t stop me.” You murmur, as his fingers touch the bottom of your chin, gently tilting your head higher.

He smiles then, all fangs and pearly whites on display.

“If only that were true.” He hums, leaning in till his lips brush yours.

You push against his biceps hard, and he moves back just enough so that you’re able to slip away from him.

“Why don’t you go kiss someone else. I’m going to bed.” You grit out, walking in the direction of the spare bedroom.

You don’t get very far, before he’s gripping your wrist tightly to keep you in place. You turn to face him, a look of calm irritation plastered on your face.

“That’s what this is about? The kiss?”

“It’s about nothing. Let me go.” You pull on your arm.

He doesn’t budge.

“You’re jealous?”

“I’m not-” You grunt as you pull on your hand again, “-You’re just pissing me off.”

“You’re the one that called me ‘sick’ and now you’re jealous cause I kissed someone?”

“I’m not fucking jealous-” You gasp as he pins your body to the kitchen counter, your body freezing in shock at the angry expression on his face.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He grits out, blinking after a second and seemingly calming in the same space of time.

He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Don’t forget I can hear every beat of your heart. I can smell your cunt. I already know how wet you are. Don’t think you’re capable of a lie.”

You let out an angry sigh, turning your head away from him.

“Whatever.” you say as harshly as you can.

There’s a moment of silence, where he looks at you, and you make a point not to look at him.

“Alright. I’m gonna fix this.” He says decidedly.

“I could care less- what the fuck are you-” You gasp as he picks you up easily, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Billy what the fuck! Put me the fuck down now you asshole!” You grunt, his shoulder digging near painfully into your hip. 

You kick your legs, trying to escape and after a moment you realise that it doesn’t make a difference.

If you really wanted to, you could maybe straighten your body and fight your way out of his grip, but there was an inevitability to his movements. It didn’t matter how long it took, or how difficult it was, Billy was persistent, and he would get what he wanted eventually.

So when your body lands softly on his bed, all you do is look up at him angrily.

“Stay there.” He orders, untucking the towel from his hips and dropping it to the floor. You look up to the ceiling to avoid looking at his nude form. You don't want to give him the satisfaction.

When he turns away, your eyes find him once more, studying the broad expanse of his back, all the way down to his ass.

You clench, grabbing a pillow and dropping it on top of your face to hide your desire. You try your very hardest not to remember the look of him, the feel of his body on yours, his cock-

He tugs the pillow away from your face, and you sigh in annoyance up at him.

You don’t want to look down, but your eyes have almost a mind of their own.

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion when you notice that he’s wearing a fitted pair of grey boxers on his lower half.

When your eyes meet his in confusion, he grins.

He finds his way up to you, hands sliding over your legs, up your calves and to your knees.

"Did you think we were gonna fuck, baby?" He teases, with a tilt of his head.

His hands slide up more, and you're just confused when he reaches under your shirt to tug at your panties.

"We're not fucking tonight, sweetheart, I just wanna talk to you."

Then why the fuck was he taking your panties off?

When he gets the garment off, you watch him close his eyes for a brief second, tilt his head up and take a deep breath.

He was-

"God. You smell good."

His eyes are red when they reconnect with yours.

You don't say anything- you find that you can't. You want him and he knows it.

He grips your thighs, pressing them upward so that your cunt is exposed to him fully.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you're sure he can hear it. Open and vulnerable as you watch him look at your glistening cunt.

"Pretty. Did you know that?" 

You gulp, eyes glued to his form, admiring the look of his arms and the swell of his biceps.

"I want to taste you every day, all the time. You have no idea how hard it is to stop myself from dropping you on the first surface I can find and burying my face in your cunt."

He watches you clench around nothing, the corner of his mouth curling up into a smile.

He releases your legs, letting them drop a little and he looms in above you, pressing your body tightly to his.

Chest to chest, your bare centre pressed right up to the hardness of his clothed cock, there's no space to breathe where he doesn't exist.

He angles his head so that his lips are pressed to your ear.

"I want to lick that pretty little cunt till you pass out, and then wake you up so I can do it all over again." He whispers in your ear, your body tense and on edge from just his words.

"I want to fuck you till you beg me to stop, and even then, I'll still be giving you just one more."

You think you might be ruining the sheets below you with how aroused you were.

"Then do it." You challenge, hoping for some reprieve to the ache inside of you.

His hand moves up slowly, fingers tracing your cheek before covering your mouth firmly.

You make a muffled sound of protest, raising your hands to try and push him away. You hear a quiet laugh, before one of your hands is pinned above your head.

It doesn’t matter, whether you have one hand free or two- you would not be able to get out from under him on your own.

“My poor sweet little huntress,” He hums, your ear vibrating with his low words, “If you want me to fuck you till you cry, you’re going to have to ask nicely. Actually no- you’re going to have to beg.”

Your groan of annoyance is muffled behind his palm. There was no way you were going to beg him for anything.

You feel him smile against your neck, and then you still as you feel his teeth. 

He drags his sharp teeth gently over your neck, avoiding the spot where he bit you earlier.

“You’re so helpless under me, isn’t that nice? I can do anything I want to you, and you’d have no power to stop me.” 

To prove his point, you feel his tongue swipe over your shoulder, and then purposefully over your bite, sending brief little shivers down your spine, and then he trails his tongue up the column of your neck, and then even further, licking over your cheek as well.

Your body feels like a livewire, vibrating with sheer desire each time he touches you.

You want to grunt out so many things. That he was filthy, that he was just downright fucked up in the head.

That you wanted him to keep going.

“You like that, don’t you? You always have.” He lets out a slow sigh, “You always get so wet when you can’t fight back.”

Fuck you, you wanted to say. 

“What if we made this interesting?” He hums, raising his upper body off yours for a second to reach into his bedside drawer. 

You’re no longer fully trapped under him, and if you wanted to get out, you could. Instead, you wait curiously to see what he was going to do.

He pulls a stake out of his top drawer.

“You- just have that in there? I could have killed you this whole time?”

“Of course.” He teases pushing the drawer shut, “Now’s your chance.”

Before you can ask what he means, he’s sliding the silver stake into your hand.

What the fuck?

“Now, you can stop me if you really want.” Billy says ominously.

“That’s the most fucked up-” Before you can finish, he’s slapping his hand back over your mouth.

“Don’t care about what you have to say, baby, I’m gonna do what I want to you, and you can stop me if you feel like.”

And then, he starts tugging your shirt up, exposing your stomach.

In retrospect, you don’t have to kill him to make him stop, you could just mortally wound him. One well placed stab near the heart would be enough of a deterrent. You could slip free and be out the door in minutes.

Billy pulls your shirt up higher, exposing your breasts to the open air. Your hand tightens on the stake.

You should do it. You really should.

He groans when his tongue slides wetly over your left nipple. You shudder blissfully.

Your eyes roll back in your head, before fluttering shut. A breath of air leaves your mouth in a rush, fingers hold taut on the warming piece of silver in your hand.

One quick swipe of his tongue on your left breast, then your right. He raises his head.

“Do you want more?” Billy asks.

With your eyes still closed, you shake your head.

“Then stop me.” He says, before his lips wrap around your pebbled nipple. 

His short beard scratches along your sensitive breast, he kisses his way up to the spot below your collarbone, white hot sparks splintering over your body everywhere he touches.

You still when you feel his teeth graze your skin.

“Still want me to stop?” He checks in.

No you don’t.

“Yes.”

His teeth press into your skin.

A sharp cry spills out of you, tingles as he breaks skin, followed by a jolt of pain and then heat.

You jerk when he extracts his fangs.

Billy moans when he gets his first mouthful.

You pant, unable to understand how having him drink from you could hurt, and yet feel so blissfully good.

He takes another, and then another.

Was he going to kill you like this? Should you stop him now?

He rolls his hips, rock hard erection just bumping your clit and you gasp.

Fuck, why did every part of him have to feel so good? You could feel your arousal, slippery and messy between your thighs, begging you to give into him, if only for a moment so that he could ease your ache.

Instead, you move your hand, pressing the stake to his shoulder.

From his spot, drinking from your chest, you feel him make a sound of amusement.

You groan, disdain for him building in you, you press the weapon deeper till it breaks his skin.

He pauses, raising his head from your chest, lapping slowly at the trickling droplets of your blood before drawing back.

“Silly girl, didn’t anyone teach you how to kill a vampire?” He asks, grabbing your wrist in an iron grip, and though you try to fight his guidance, he’s too strong, pulling your hand until the stake is pressed to the centre of his chest.

“My heart is right here.” He murmurs softly, and with his hand on yours, he pulls the weapon closer, breaking skin once more.

“Stop.” You say, panic building inside of you, tugging at your hand in hopes that it can slip out from under his. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to kill him.

You pull hard at your hand, gasping gratefully when you manage to pull away. 

You look at him, sharp breaths trying to calm yourself when you get your hand away. 

He gives you a soft smile, pulling the stake away from his chest and dropping it on the bed.

You gulp, watching the wound he’d caused heal before your eyes.

“You are,” You breathe, “Absolutely fucking crazy.”

“Maybe,” He agrees with a hum, “But at least you can admit to yourself now, that you want this too.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours chastely, “That maybe you actually like me.”

“Not wanting you to die is not the same as-”

“-Oh give me a fucking break.” He grunts, pulling back.

He grips your knees, and before you can figure out what he’s doing- he flips you onto your stomach.

You let out a little grunt, pushing yourself up, but suddenly pressed back down by the weight of his body covering yours.

“You’ve cum on my cock way too many times to be lying to yourself like this.” He hisses.

You turn your head, so that you can see his face in your peripherals.

"You're such an arrogant fuck." You grunt out, your rucked up shirt causing your nipples to press against the bed, the exposure of your body makes you almost quiver with delight.

He leans in, his breath against your ear as you feel his hands gripping your hips.

"Why can't you just admit to yourself that you might want me, hmm?" He hisses lowly in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin, tormenting you.

"That deep down," He continues, pressing his hand between your hips and the bed, "Somewhere in that pretty head and wet cunt," You feel his hand sliding lower, fingers touching the top of your mound, "You want me with you," He kisses your cheek, "Over you, under you, inside you." You feel him take a deep breath, his nose pressed to your neck.

"I want to lick your cunt so often that I can taste you when you're not there. Is that too much to ask for?"

Your head spins, too drunk on him to formulate words.

He makes it even harder, by slipping his hand lower, fingers meeting your wet slit.

He doesn't hesitate, fingers gliding easily down, meeting your clit and you let out a low, shuddering moan as your ache is addressed in the slightest way possible.

You tilt your hips forward, into his hand.

"Billy." You sigh, widening your legs instinctively, anything to encourage him to keep going.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You mewl, nodding your head.

His finger slips gently over your clit, and your breathing pauses, you don't want to do anything that would make him stop giving you this pleasure.

He gives a firm press, and you feel your body shudder, a wave of pure bliss sinking over you.

You say his name again, shifting your body, trying to display your impatience to him.

"Ah ah ah, little girl. Where are your manners? I told you I wanted you to beg."

"Fuck you." You groan angrily.

His finger slips lower, massaging your entrance for a few moments before slipping his finger in.

You gasp, your body going lax at the feel of the pleasure building in you. It’s good. It’s so good and it’s so wrong that he makes you feel like this.

"So fucking tight." He hisses, "That cunt's begging for a stretch."

Focusing on his words are hard with the way his lone finger moves, pumping in and out of you easily, your body desperate for him.

Something goes off in your head, like a gun when he curls his finger, and touches that spot deep inside of you. It pulls a groan from the very depths of your soul. You pant, trying to keep your thinking focused with the way he’s trying to steal it.

"That's it. You like this huh? Like the way I take what I want?" He leans in till his lips are at your ear, "I like it too." You clench around his finger.

"You're a sick fuck." You groan, half your mouth muffled from where your face is pressed to the bed.

"Yeah? Am I? Do you hate me?" He pulls back, and before you can make any sound of protest, two of his fingers are sliding into you.

Fuck, you can feel your body stretching for him. He uses his other hand to grip your jaw, tilting your head up almost painfully so that your face isn’t muffled in the sheets anymore.

"Tell me you hate me." Billy whispers in your ear.

You cry, his fingers beginning to move slowly, spreading you open and forcing you to feel him, to ache for more of him.

His fingers slow when you don’t immediately answer, and you groan internally, assembling the words in your head.

“I- I,” You stutter out, tears dripping from your eyes uncontrollably and pooling around his grip on your jaw, “I h-hate you.”

“Yeah? Poor little girl. Should I stop then? Leave you alone?” He coos, voice condescending in every way possible.

“Nh-” You immediately vocalise, begging him in your head to not stop, but the words can’t seem to come out of your mouth.

He laughs in your ear, understanding what you were about to say without you having to say it. 

The pace of his fingers quicken, you hiss, arching your back, feeling your orgasm swiftly approaching. You’ve wanted him since this morning, since he pulled you onto his lap and told you that you were his.

Your body trembles, eyes rolling back in your head, on the brink of release-

-And then his fingers stop.

A cry of despair leaves your lips, and the denial in your body aches, and then hurts even more when he pulls his fingers away, withdrawing his hand from under you. His grip on your jaw loosens, until your face is pressed against the sheets once more.

You raise your head groggily, turning your body onto your side when you feel him lift himself off of you. You catch sight of him sliding his fingers, wet with your denial into his mouth.

You bite down on your bottom lip hard, on the brink of begging for him, pleading with him to make you cum, and then take you in any way he saw fit.

But that’s exactly what he wanted.

So instead, you stay still, trying not to speak, feeling the fire of denial burn through you.

You tug your shirt down, looking at him with angry eyes as he observes you.

“Are you done having your fun?” You ask bitterly.

The corner of his lip twitches.

"You know what to say if you want to cum, baby. Don't act like this isn't your choice."

You feel petulance build up inside of you, anger beyond thought.

"Go fuck yourself." You hiss, moving to slide off the bed.

He grips your hips, hauling you back, until you're on your back, looking angrily up at him.

"What's the rush, sweetness? Don't you want me to clean you up?" 

“Clean me?” You repeat in disbelief, sitting up, propping the weight of your torso onto your elbows. Your brain stalling on what that could possibly mean.

His smile is devious, the look of a man that has everything he wants and then some.

He takes his time, shouldering his body in between your thighs, his face so close to your dripping centre that you’re not sure if you have any brain cells left functional

“God.” He murmurs, his breath brushing along your mound as he takes in an unnecessary breath, his eyes immediately locking on to the messy place between your thighs, “You make me feel like the most insane person on the planet.” 

“You are the most insane person on the planet.”

He grins, lowering his head slowly, anticipation building inside of you, a simmering heat, a thrumming pulse.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me.” Is the last thing he murmurs before his lips meet your cunt.

You close your eyes, pressing your lips together, begging yourself to not make a sound. He places a gentle kiss to your slit, and then another, before you feel his lips part, and his tongue snake out.

You make a muffled groan behind your clenched teeth as he gets a taste of you.

What starts off gentle, turns slightly rougher as he lays a harsh swipe of his tongue along your pussy, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel Billy begin to slowly lick your cunt.

He’s thorough and unrelenting, his face buried between your thighs, licking at you without a care in the world.

You want to spit every degrading word you can at him, hating the way you know in the back of your head that only he has ever made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck you.” You gasp as his tongue finds your clit easily, a laugh vibrating through your nether regions as he hears you.

You give up trying to resist, reaching to grip the back of his head, hoping to urge him on.

It has the opposite effect, he raises his head, and you whine, a low, pained noise at his torment.

"I'm not clean enough yet," You argue, looking down to meet his scarlet eyes.

You look at each other for a long moment, the heat of unsaid words crackling between you.

You want to beg, you're almost on the brink of it.

"I agree." Is all he says before he lowers his head again.

"Fuck-" You gasp, your back hitting the bed as your arm refuses to support your weight for any longer. 

His tongue is too dexterous, licking at your clit, and then dipping down to your entrance. He groans, tongue catching your arousal straight from the source.

Your toes curl, blissful orgasm near, your body tingles with the anticipation of your impending release.

You moan his name, putting every ounce of desperate desire into the one word.

He pulls away right when you're on edge.

The sound that leaves you is pitiful, tears of frustration spill from your eyes as you look up at him.

"I'll give you anything if you let me come."

"You know what I want." He says, licking his lips.

"Besides that," You try to bargain, "I'll blow you again, or I'll let you bite me." 

His smile is one of amusement, it makes you feel like a child, begging for something you're not going to get.

"I think we've already established that if I wanted those things, you wouldn't stop me. Even if you could."

You frown, letting out a sharp breath, fully understanding that he would not take pity on you tonight.

"Fine, asshole, I'll do it myself." You grunt, slipping from under him and sitting up with the intention of a shower.

He grips your bicep harshly to stop you. You grit your teeth angrily, unable to look into his eyes.

"If I catch you touching that little cunt- my cunt- without permission. I'll teach what real punishment would be like."

He pulls you closer, till his lips are pressed right to your ear again, your stomach flipping at his proximity.

"I'll tie you to the bed, and edge you till you forget your name. I'll use you like my own personal fleshlight and I'll never let you cum."

You hiss angrily, nether regions throbbing at his words and you tug your arm out of his grip.

"Fuck. You." Is your only reply as you head to the bathroom for the coldest shower possible.

.

After all of that, you sleep in bed beside him.

Because you know him now a little, and you know there's no way he was letting you have your own bed.

You'd gone to sleep on opposite sides of the bed, but you'd woken up in his arms.

"Thought vampires didn't need sleep?" You ask, voice unsteady, having just woken up.

"We don't." He answers, looking down at you. 

Your eyes trace his scars, you want to touch them, ask him what happened.

"So why did you lie beside me all night?"

"Because I wanted to." He answers.

Your stomach flips, and you have to look away as you feel blood rush to your face.

"Will you tell me more about this…imprint?" You ask softly.

He makes a little sound of displeasure.

"It's not exactly an imprint- It’s like-" He lets out a low sigh.

"It sounds worse than it actually is, but- ugh- do you know what quantum entanglement is?"

"Do I look like a physicist?" You answer.

He rolls his eyes, a small smile on his face at your snark.

"As simple as I can explain, when two particles are entangled, they remain connected, regardless of distance."

"What entangles them?" You ask.

"Physical interaction, but, with people, it's a lot harder to explain because there's a lot that isn't understood. It can happen with anyone, but not everyone, and at a subconscious level, it has to be accepted by both."

"You're saying I chose this?"

"Some part of you did, yeah, some part of me too, and then, no matter how far I got from you, I could still feel you."

"Feel me?" You press, hoping for him to elaborate.

He raises a hand, his knuckles carefully brush your cheek.

"Like you were always standing in the room with me. Like I wasn't alone."

You blink, trying to figure out if you'd felt the same way. You had so many questions flying through your head and difficulty putting them into words.

“Is there any way to break it?”

You can almost feel the air go frigid between you.

“As far as I understand, nothing breaks the bond except dying.”

Great.

“And what happens if we stay together?”

“I’ve heard different things from different people.” He responds.

“Like what?” You ask, trying to think it through. You remember Ethan had mentioned that there was the prolonging of lives involved.

He closes his eyes, shakes his head.

"I don't want to tell you what I'm not sure about. I have a friend, bonded to a human, maybe you can ask them whenever."

You swallow, nodding, trying not to fret over the possibility of more vampires.

Deep in thought, you blink in surprise when you feel his thumb brush over your cheek again. You look up at him in surprise.

"I have another question, but it's very personal."

"What is it?" 

You stall for a moment, studying the look in his eyes, the dark reflectiveness of them, the way you can almost see yourself in his eyes.

"Exactly how old are you?"

It changes the sour mood, the corner of his mouth curling in amusement before he gives you a fanged grin.

"That is a personal question, and maybe I'm not comfortable with answering." He says, tapping the tip of your nose with a slender finger.

You huff.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to freak you out, and telling you my age is gonna freak you out."

Maybe he was right, maybe it was better that you didn't know.

You sigh, rolling onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. He gets closer to you, fingers tracing over your cheek and down your neck, only stopping when they reach the healing bite on your shoulder.

Experimentally, he presses his thumb against the wound. You turn your head sharply to look at him, feeling the pain swim through your body but not reacting to it.

“Ow.” You say simply.

“How bad does it hurt?” He asks quietly.

You smack his hand away, sitting up, your back to him.

“Why does it suddenly matter?” You jab, moving to dangle your feet off the side of the bed.

There’s a big silence, he doesn’t answer, and after a moment you’re forced to glance back to make sure he’s still there and hasn’t dissolved into the air because of you.

He’s looking at you, as if he somehow understands something about you that you don’t know about yourself.

“How many times have you been bitten?”

The question brings a laugh to your lips.

“Enough times that I'm used to it.”

“Does it hurt any less each time?”

You turn away, an amused and thoughtful smile rises to your face.

“Every time I get bitten, always hurts like the first time.” You say in finality, leaving the room soon after.

.

Whatever bond he was describing- you didn’t feel it. There was nothing there but a deep seated need to explore him. It was more curiosity than desire.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.

You’d showered, looking at your reflection in the fogged mirror, trying to think clearly with so much frustration in your system. In the moment, you close your eyes, and recall the first time you’d ever fucked him.

It had been frantic at first, the way he’d used his tongue on you had your body begging for more, and you honestly thought you were going to die after you’d tried to kill him.

You’d put everything into it- savouring him because you wanted to seal yourself into his memory- if he was going to kill you by the end of it.

You’d gone pliant when he'd lined himself up with your entrance, and you can still remember the way your brain spiralled in surprise at the ridiculous amount of pleasure. No one had ever made you feel like that before.

Over and over again, you’d fucked till you could barely hold yourself up, till you’d been sitting on his lap, his hands gripping your hips to do all the work because you couldn’t even lift your head from the crook of his neck.

He’d been quiet, not like the second time, or even last night, when he was so vocal, the only thing you could compare it to was sin itself.

Your lower regions pulse. You can feel the heat between your thighs, begging for him, and the pleasure he gives regardless of how annoying he was.

It’s why you grab the dress at the bottom of the duffel bag to wear, deciding that you didn’t have to beg to get what you wanted. 

It was actually a really cute dress, blue, with little printed flowers all over it. Most importantly, it was short, only coming up to mid-thigh, which meant that if you bent over, he’d see the smallest scrap of lace you’d decided to call underwear today.

If he could play games, so would you.

.

He’s making breakfast when you step into the kitchen. It kind of amuses you, that he’s only cooking for you.

“Can I help?” You ask, stepping up beside him at the stove to look down at the omelette he’d been working at.

He glances at you, looks down at the stove, before blinking to look over at you once more.

You watch his jaw stiffen, you resist the urge to bite your lip as you watch his eyes trace down your body.

Oh, what power.

“Butter.” He says, “Fridge.”

You offer him a teasing smile, before turning away.

You bend unnecessarily, feeling your skirt rise up, cool air brushing the back of your thighs. 

The butter is on the middle shelf, making your bending completely unnecessary in the first place.

He's not looking at you when you turn around. You're not even sure if he's seen your little display.

He takes the butter from you without a word, and you're very intrigued by the way he cooks, the move of his wrist to flip the omelette.

"Can you get the bread toasted for me?"

How was he doing this? Being so calm and casual with you? Seeing this side of him was so much worse for your sanity than anything else. 

"You have bread?" You ask curiously, looking around, but not able to spot any.

"Yeah, here-" He steps away from the stove to reach into one of the overhead cupboards. You glance down at the pan on the stove, to make sure nothing is burning. The deep indentations on the handle of the pan barely catches your eye, and you blink in surprise.

There were deep impressions of his fingers… caused by squeezing too hard.

Maybe he was more affected with your display than he let on.

You fight a satisfied smile, giving him a knowing look when he returns to place the bag of sliced bread into your hands.

"You bought all of this for me?" You tease, "I'm flattered."

He looks hot when he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice. I can’t let you starve.”

“Because you like me?” You pry, swaying your shoulders playfully from side to side.

He huffs, using the spatula to flip the finished omelette onto a nearby plate.

Billy doesn’t respond, simply shaking his head without looking at you.

It only urges you on, like a match, sparking as it rubs against coarse paper.

You brace your hands against his kitchen counter, stiffening your arms as you use your toes to push you into an effortless bounce, using the momentum to raise your body, sitting yourself on his counter, facing him.

He doesn’t look, simply preparing the pan for toast.

“Ah,” You tease, parting your thighs subtly, “So you don’t like me then.”

Yet still, he doesn’t respond, calmly observing the bread as it toasts, the smell of it in the air makes your mouth water a little.

But it’s not what you’re hungry for.

“Maybe you only think you like me because of how sweet my blood tastes. Maybe it’s all in your head-”

Your voice goes quiet when he finally pins you with a stern glare. 

His movements are decisive, turning the stove off, moving the pan away from the residual heat, and then turning to you.

Goddamn.

You gasp, raising a leg to back away from him while also making an attempt to push him back with your foot, but there’s nowhere for you to go, your head bumps a cupboard door, and that’s all the distraction he needs to grab your ankle.

You let out a little squeak, gasping as he pulls you forward and right up against his body, encouraging your legs to wrap around him.

You open your mouth to speak, to protest, to fight him in an unmeaningful way, but you don’t get the chance as his hand grips the back of your neck, forcing your mouth onto his.

God fucking damn.

Your eyes shut, your body relaxes, and then sings with delight as he delves his tongue past your lips.

You moan into his mouth, unable to fight it, leaning in because it feels so good to have him. 

Fuck every part of you that told you this was wrong. You wanted him and nothing would stop you.

You grip his shirt in a tight fist, leaning in, meeting his mouth with an undeniable force. He presses back, and for a moment you feel so blissfully wanted, maybe more than you’d ever been before.

Only when his hand weaves into your hair, his fist tightening to hold your head in place as he leans away, do you remember the taunting remarks that got you here.

Your scalp stings, mouth falling open to gasp in air.

His eyes are dark red, like the blood he drinks to stay alive.

He doesn’t speak, releasing your hair to support your behind as he lifts you off the counter, moving quickly with your body pressed to his.

Your vision shifts too fast for comprehension, and the next thing you can process is lying face down across the marble kitchen island.

He grips the back of your head to keep you there, warm cheek to frigid marble and you stay, refusing to move, wishing that he takes in this moment, everything that you’re willing to give.

He leans over your body, until his mouth is pressed to your ear.

“Do you ever shut up?” Billy hisses, and you have to fight a satisfied smile.

He’s not done ranting, continuing on as if he doesn’t care for your answers.

“I know you just said that to get a rise out of me, but the very idea of me only wanting your for your blood- makes me fucking sick.”

He leans in even more, taking a deep breath in the space of your neck.

“I want all of you, every single piece of you, over and over again until you’re fucking mine.”

He leans away a little.

“Is that what you wanted to hear? Hmm? When you put on this little dress and flashed that cunt at me?”

He moves away even more, and the next thing you feel is him pushing your dress up, his hand pressed securely to the small of your back so that you can’t raise your body.

He's still for a moment, and so are you, burning with anticipation, your cunt getting wetter by the second.

You gasp in surprise when you feel his nose graze the back of your thigh.

You shudder, feeling his breath along your most sensitive areas, your skin tingles as he runs his nose upward, your hands curl into fists beside your head when you feel a small puff of air against your skin.

He’s still for so long that you find your body tense with anticipation, biting down on your bottom lip hard so that you don’t beg him to just put you out of your sordid misery. 

You make a small mewling sound of surprise when you feel his tongue lick along the lace gusset of your panties. 

He tugs at the scrap of fabric, pulling it away from the tacky seam of your cunt so that he can get a better look, an uninhibited view of your desire.

You want to say his name, so badly that you can feel the resonant sound of it in the back of your throat. Instead, you repeat it in your head.

Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy…

“I can’t believe how fucking messy this cunt gets. All for me.” He says softly, as if you’re not meant to hear but you do anyway.

“Such a fucking shame that you won’t beg. The things I want to do to you, the ways I want to make you cum.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, panting hard against the kitchen counter, your inner walls fluttering, begging. 

“Fucking tease.” He breathes out, as he watches more arousal spill from between your thighs.

Billy, please-

Your gasp gets caught in your throat as his tongue licks a wet trail from your clit to your entrance.

“Fuck- didn’t mean to do that but I can’t help it.” Is all he says before his tongue starts licking you slowly.

Your eyes roll back into your head and stays there permanently for a few seconds. The flood of bliss is almost too much for your body to manage.

He grunts, his hands gripping your thighs to spread your legs further apart.

His tongue is forceful as it dances over your clit, and then, after what you assume is a moment of contemplation, you feel his tongue push its way against your entrance.

Your breathing is sharp and shallow, you reach to grip the other edge of the counter, trying to get some leverage to remain sane.

The pleasure is shallow, but your body is hypersensitive with denial, his tongue fucking into you at a reasonable pace is almost enough to have your breath stalling in your throat.

When he finally gets control of himself, his tongue slows, carefully licking you, daring your body to think about orgasm.

After a few more moments, he raises his head, and you breathe a sigh of relief, your body releasing the tension of pleasure, your hands relaxing its grip on the marble countertop.

But you should have known better than to think he was done with you, not satisfied until you know for sure that you’ve lost this interaction.

His hands on your hips, gripping them as he turns you over, pulling you up into a sitting position.

Nose to nose, you look into his eyes with a half-lidded gaze.

“Your blood is nice,” He whispers, hand raising to cup your cheek, “But it’s you I want, huntress. Don’t forget that.”

You sigh, pressing your cheek into his palm and closing your eyes.

“Say it for me. What do I want?” He asks.

You breathe out a huff, an unknown emotion squeezing your throat tightly.

“Me.” You whisper softly, eyes still shut to avoid his gaze.

He doesn’t mind, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Good girl.”

And then he’s gone- right back to toasting bread, as if nothing had ever happened.

It almost drives you insane.

.

.

.

Happy Halloween!