#this is how vampires feel im certain
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The worst part about studying history is that I love history, so even though I am going THROUGH IT with fucking ANCIENT HISTORY I still LOVE IT even though I FUCKING HATE IT
#ANCIENT HISTORY IS JUST POTTERY#POTTERY AND WEATHER PATTERNS#AND I HATE IT BUT I FUCKING LOVE IT DAMMIT#MAN I DONT WANT TO BE LEARNING ABOUT THE FUCKING WANAX BUT MAAAANNNNNN THE DISSOLUTION OF THE WANAX MAKES ME WANNA CRY#history#history major#this is how vampires feel im certain#its like me [handshake] crowley. hating the dark ages but loving humans
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where’s that little horror piece about kits never growing up in Starclan? because I remember it so vividly but I can’t find it.
The one about Bright Stream?
Weird that it's so hard to find! It's probably because it's got such heavy tags lmao.
I really mean it though like, canon's permakitten system and the idea that Bright Stream is up there, forever taking care of fetus children who were filled by sudden knowledge and yet never grow past that point absolutely horrifies me. Jesus Christ. I don't know how anyone reads that final scene in Path of Stars and isn't filled with itching, white-hot existential dread, man.
Sometimes you just gotta write horror about it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#partner and i were joking the other day about how like#they are the one known as The Horror Blogger and im the funny cat guy#because it's literally the opposite irl. you have NO idea#They are the one who is squeamish and I am the one that is like#only scared if there's 17 different kinds of existential horror#Which tbf is important in my line of work#But let me tell YOU. One thing that gets me every time? Fucked up afterlives#Probably from all the religious trauma but. Still.#''turns out your whole life is actually teetering on the precipice of a steep drop into the jaws of unknowable gods--#and their concept of omnibenevolent and omnimalevolent are self-defined''#''in death your life only has meaning to those still living and yet you're conscious to experience it''#''you will helplessly watch people you thought loved YOU reduce your memory into how you SERVED them''#''Powerless to stop it you will find that you were only valued as a tool in someone else's life''#''There is no peace in death just being tired and uncomfortable forever''#EURGH#It's why my most feared monsters are actually ghosts and vampires and certain zombies#Because it's not really about the monster it's more about what that monster implies for the afterlife#Certain zombies especially. ngl. Night of the livin dead 2 has the scariest ones ever#Intelligent. Violent. Able to FEEL themselves rotting and the only relief is to consume everything you ever loved#BRR#they did eat a bunch of cops tho so... at least they have that going for them#BONES MCRAMBLES IN THE TAGS#bone babble
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Also, bonus question, does what role the character play affect how you feel about their death or if they were to die? For example, a whumper dying vs a whumpee dying or a caretaker dying
#tw death#cw death#death#whump poll#idk im just curious#personally for me it depends#ive been experimenting with whump concepts in my head that involve death#like zombies immortals who die and ressurect themselves#stuff like that#‘came back wrong’ trope etc#of course it still depends to me like. certain ways it plays out are fine but others go outside of my comfort zone#like i was reading a pretty gory whumper turned whumpee fic#and im not saying its bad it was pretty good#just not for me personally#i think it was called red room? or smth like that#the whumpee was torturing their whumper#and then at the end they killed them#i dont remember the names or pronouns bc it squicked me out a little so i think i forgot about it#im not sure how i feel about permanent death in whump fics#like sure ive got zombies and people who can ressurect or vampires who can heal#but i dont think i like to read about humans dying?#idk idk
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#just watched s 2 ep 7 of the vampire show#and these are just some ramblings that hopefully will not offend fans of the show im just trying to articulate my thoughts to myself#i think it was a cool idea to turn their trial into one of the theatrical performances onstage#however im still annoyed at how the domestic violence episode happened and was apparently a real thing#like idk it just ruins the whole vibe in the book of how these characters were living together doing awful things to humans yet#somehow mostly carrying on in civilized peace and not ever directing that violence toward each other for decades on end#this choice messes up the characterizations and relationship dynamics too much for me somehow#also messes up the aesthetics that are a delicate balance between the savage and grotesque and polite and refined#it was important to me that lestat wasnt the one to first cross that line in the books and that claudia was#i feel like kinda the one thing that lestat had going for him in the first book as a standalone story#was that he didnt ever cross certain lines with louis and claudia that the show made him cross there?#he seemed to have a different inner set of rules when it came to what violence he would do to humans and what he would do to them#it's hard to even articulate what kind of shittiness is a dealbreaker in a character or a ship to me#especially when theyre constantly doing stuff like feeding on people to stay alive#but for some reason lestat and louis beating the shit out of each other is just such a nonsense ooc thing to make them do in my opinion#also claudia in the book was valid for what she did to lestat already i thought. i dont see why they had to change or add to the motives#she was turned into a vampire at age 5 and therefore almost purely a vampire in nature and also totally valid in not being happy about it#and in the books lestat made her a vampire on his own after louis fed on her and they did not discuss it beforehand#and he never mentioned rules about a child vampire being forbidden and louis did not beg him to do it. in fact one of the biggest reasons#that louis and claudia decide to turn on lestat is because theyre convinced hes just pretending to know more than he does about vampirism#and either has nothing to teach them or wont ever let them go so they can find out anything for real about their own kind#these changes in the show bother me too but i think im not that good at articulating why#i also feel like as much as book louis's weakness and passiveness and guilt can get frustrating and isn't always interesting to follow#in a way that's kinda one of his more saving graces and most defining traits as a vampire as well - so i dont always know how to feel#about them making his character more powerful and aggressive and involved in things in the show at times?#on one hand i often get frustrated at his moping and indecisiveness and inactivity in the books#and yet on the other hand i find i miss his quieter softer excruciatingly polite book personality when i am watching the show at times too#p#vmpcs
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as much as i am mentally unwell over tristamp rn... i think i will always prefer 98. this is weird coming from me because i am the guy whos favorite part of the entire series is weird plant biology and there is exactly 0 of that in trigun98 but at the same time like........ it just makes me so much happier to watch.
obviously the manga is objectively the best version of the story and i would kill for a beat by beat animated adaption of the manga (<<something i know is impossible) but i also have a hard time reading comics and cannot readily consume the manga as well as i can the animes
#nobody asked for these thoughts but i need an outlet <3#my ranking goes trimax >> 98 >> tristamp#not to say i dislike tristamp. i very much like tristamp and there r certain aspecfs i like from that version even better than in the manga#which is why i think my preferred method for creating/consuming fan content is when ppl combine aspects of all three#like. idk man i have a lot of trigun thoughts tonight im squishing it around in my hands like silly putty#i desperately wish i was not in a huuuuge months long setback of writers block bc i would love 2 do character analyses rn#aaaurrghggghgh head in hands. my brain is going 2 explode.#im going 2 sit down in the imaginary space inside my mind and start#untangling neurons like theyre a knotted tangle of necklace chains and headphone wires#need 2 do that but like fr. do u know how good thay would feel. solves all my mental illnesses#anyway in other news i did my thumbnail overlay and my new profile pic for artfight today. cannot wait 2 post those they look soooo good#finally i can be a guy covered in blood (<< is planning 2 be team vampire)#sigh. i do not want 2 sleep i do not want 2 be a person rn i want 2 be a.#vague concept or perhaps a fictional character who ppl write hurt/comfort about. emphasis on the comfort
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I dont know why youve leapt to assuming this post was about the workplace? the original post mentioned friends, family, and going out for drinks, and it feels a bit like a bad faith read to assume this meant for you to try to talk about weird niche TV show interests to your boss, when it seems far more likely to be a post about not letting cringe culture rule your entire life, in a time when its so common for ppl to let themselves become beholden to tiktok microtrends, and being terrified that theyll lose all their friends if anyone finds out they enjoy steven universe.
It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.
#reblog#this feels like it was a personal post by the OP who has realized that stifling every interest and thing that they like to constantly#manage how they are percieved and avoid doing anything cringey or weird is uh fucking exhausting and terrible for your mental health#that has spread quite far past containment#and is now being entirely misread as reveal every weird little thing about yourself At Work.#maybe i simply dont know any better tho cos ive so far worked in warehouse grunt jobs with a bunch of other weird unhinged little freaks#im fairly certain that entire second shift had adhd or something similar enough lmao#i have weird colored hair i even went in a couple times with it styled into sort of a bihawk. i wore a shirt covered in furbies. i carry#a purse shaped like a trilobite. so far the most challenging thing for my coworkers seemed to be the fact that i continue to diligently#wear an n95 cos i dont want to get sick. i wasnt telling my coworkers about my depraved oc lore...but id talk about the newest season of#stranger things with them since i watched it. i talked about cats and fish. i talked about atla. i told a couple of them that i wanted to#learn how to walk on stilts. it was fine. yes youre going to have to do some amount of managing how your percieved. but if you let that#take priority over every aspect of your life youll go insane#and there are people who have let their fear of being judged take over every single aspect of their life#and they do genuinely need to hear that its okay to wear a cringey band Tshirt or whatever#also: i hope porfessionalism standards continue to get more lax. death to professionalism. i just got a job offer wearing a tacky print#short sleeve button down covered in sharks with a vampire squid necklace and jeans with a faded blue fauxhawk. this needs to be possible in#more workplaces and its stupid that it isnt. even if you are not expressing your true self at work for your own safety. you should at least#recognize that these standards are absurd and arbitrary. and if a coworker is brave enough to reveal a tiny bit of their authenticity to u#i think it would be kind to give them the space for that. even if its not your weird.#that said. in these warehouses there were also people who were unhinged in the bad way. the 'blasting alex jones at work' way.#and i was fairly cold to these people. i did my best to be purely professional with them and not express interest in getting to know them.#and i didnt love that the guy who thought stop signs = communism (derogatory from him) was also driving a forklift around#but to his credit he did at least obey the stop signs. so.#this job thats accepted me with the tacky fish shirt and blue hair doesnt pay super well and seems like its going to be a bit chaotic. but#we'll see. and if it doesnt work there i can always go back to that first warehouse job unfortunately. cos im pretty sure they wouldve let#me get away with so so so much
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How They Would Suck Your Blood: Vampires (Arlecchino, Neuvillette, Blade, Aventurine x GN!Reader) Headcanons Part 1 (NSFW) part 2 part 3
a/n: this took so long to write but im kind of satisfied with it… should i make this a series…
CW: biting, blood play, self deprecating sentiments in Blade’s part, the reader is a switch on Aventurine’s part they bottom for the rest. Not proofread!
Arlecchino
• Whenever she’s in need she simply seeks you out, her nose is especially keen to your smell, and your heartbeat is as easy to find as blinking, you’re so familiar to her that she can find you in 2.3 seconds. Her expression won't change but a small, pleasant feeling blooms in her stomach when she sees the sight of you in her bed, if you’re sleeping, she gives your chin a little scratch to wake you up, looking up at her with tired eyes as she feels your pulse quickening, how cute.
• She likes to have you on her lap the most, the way you squirm as her claws slowly drift towards your crotch, smirking slightly as she feels your already aroused sex, just by being on her lap. Adorable.
• She first grabs your hand after she’s done teasing your sex, and kisses it as gently as she can, her kisses trail up to your neck, giving it one last kiss as she bites down, the sensation has you shivering and pushing your ass onto her crotch as she lets out a satisfied hum. Arlecchino loves the bitter taste of your blood, it isn’t too sweet like how the majority of vampires like it, loves the sting on her tastebuds as she feeds on you; the only thing she lets herself indulge in.
• She also loves feeding on your thighs, oh so graciously working her tongue on your sex as her claws grab and fondles your thighs shamelessly, satisfied as you moan and your thighs quiver in her grip.
• She bites down on your thigh and stops her eyes as they threaten to roll back with euphoria, that bitter taste hitting her tongue as she lets out a heavy breath, your thighs flexing as she runs her claws up and down to soothe you, you watch through half-lidded eyes as she feasts on you. The feeling is ever so orgasmic as you feel yourself getting closer, cumming with a soft gasp as she pulls away from you, some of it getting on her chin. Your eyes widen as you apologize profusely, only to feel hornier when she swipes it off on her fingers and sucks on them; keeping eye contact with you.
Neuvillette
• He only seeks you out semi-comfortably after you’ve been together for at least a year, doesn’t want to impose anything on you, and he doesn’t want you to think he only sees you as food. Even when you smell so good, bounce on his cock while he lets out little whimpers as he feels his claws coming out and his teeth itch his stomach churning with hunger.
• He really wants to hear you cry as he presses his cold body on yours, for you to scream as he bites down, and wants to have you on his cock as he feeds on you, it makes him feel animalistic and ashamed. It’s only when you bring up the topic yourself one day as you two are getting ready for bed, a rare occasion you want to make use of as you tell him that it’s okay, you’re lovers, whatever he needs you’re willing to provide him with it. He slowly sits beside you as he takes your hand in his own, his claws already out as he’s relaxed and needs no reason to hide. He looks into your eyes with anticipation and nervousness, his pretty features twisted with guilt as he asks, “are you genuinely, absolutely, with no doubts…sure about this, beloved?” You smile softly as you nod, “of course, dearest. I wouldn’t suggest it if I were not certain about the matter. I want to know watch and every part of you,” he lets out a breath as he pulls you into a deep kiss, his arms situating themselves on your hips as he lets out a breathy moan into your kiss, already hard and ready to show you all of him.
• He gently lays you down on your shared bed, kissing your neck softly as he undresses you slowly, making you let out a soft gasp that derails into a moan as his fangs graze your skin. He bites down as gently as he can as you cling onto his arms, crying out his name as his fangs pierce your flesh, your body inching upwards towards him as you feel his claws on your ass, keeping you in place. You let out quick breaths as your chest heaves with arousal and adrenaline, it feels so good. Holy shit, how and why does this feel so fucking good?
• He pulls his fangs out slowly as he tries to stabilize his breathing, looking down on your quivering form as he watches the blood trickle down from where he bit down, lapping it up like a starved puppy as he closes his eyes. Your blood tastes so sweet to him, like a fontanian dessert. He peppered your neck with kisses as he pulled his cock out, both of you too horny for prep as he swipes some of the blood from the bite mark with his claws. He gasps softly, entering your tight warm hole; making your body shiver with arousal as you feel his cold cock inside you.
• Both of your moans and the sounds of him pounding his fat cock inside you fill the room as you tell him to feed again, which takes him 2 seconds of consideration as he bites down on your chest, right on your nipple as you pull on his hair with a whine; feeling his cock throb inside you as he feasts on your body.
Blade
• It takes him so much convincing and reassurance to make him feed on you, feeling like a piece of shit as he does so and yet, getting addicted to the taste of you. He feels his fangs twitch as he sees you fresh out of the shower, water still sticking to your body as he feels his cock strain against the fabric of his pants, cursing internally when you look at him and get that teasing look on your face.
• He’s silent as his eyes are focused on your body growing closer, slowly letting the towel drop as you sit on his lap, capturing his lips in a slow yet sensual kiss as you feel his hands hesitantly yet slowly grip your thighs as he lets out a quiet moan inside your mouth. You grind your hips on his crotch as you feel his hard-on, he’s hungry too, you can tell.
• You pull away from the kiss as you undo the zipper of his pants and let his cock out, he looks away in embarrassment as you just grind down on it, not putting it inside you; making him look at you by tapping his chin, “c’mon pretty boy, you’re hungry aren’t you?” you tease as he groans and kisses your neck as gently as he can, his cock twitching when he hears you moan as his fangs graze your skin, biting down as he grinds your ass down on his cock, making you whine at the different sensations, letting him drink as much as he likes; he’d never hurt you anyways.
• He likes to drink blood from your fingers the most actually, and loves sucking on them as you moan while he pumps his fingers in and out of your hole; getting you all relaxed and ready for him.
• Every time he feels a tinge of regret when he’s done with feeding on you, always buys the sweets you personally like. He tried to bake for once and almost burnt down the kitchen, so that’s never happening again.
• You tell him it is just his nature and that it’s actually very pleasurable for you when he feeds on you, only then does the guilt slowly wither away as he lets himself indulge in your body, your comfort, things he doesn’t deserve but selfishly takes anyway even if you tell him you want him forever; he can’t let himself hurt you, you’d never see him again, for your own good. Right now though, you won’t let him think about all of that as you clench around his cock, whining for him to fuck you faster, so he does. His thoughts calm for a short time as he feels his cock throb inside you, his tongue and teeth stained with your blood.
Aventurine
• He’s not ashamed about it so much, it’s in his nature, he has to drink blood to survive; he’s seen ‘normal’ humans do way worse for pure entertainment, so he just tells you straight up when he’s hungry, and if you’d be comfortable with him feeding on you. When you do give him your consent that’s when the real fun begins.
• You fuck into him with your cock/strap as he feeds on you, arms wrapped around you as he loses himself in the taste of your blood and the feel of your length inside him, he feels so fucking full. You cry out as his fangs pierce a bit deeper in his desperation, you see the way his cock throbs as you speed up your thrusts, hitting his prostate over and over again as he closes his eyes and continues to suck your blood; you see his dick twitch a few more times as he cums with a muffled whine, coating both of your bellies with his cum as he rolls his hips so he can feel you deeper.
• He coats his fingers with your blood when he pulls away, if you have a dick, takes both of them in his hand as he watches the way your pre-cum and blood mix together; the sensation of his cock throbbing against you making you whine his name as he coos and kisses the corner of your mouth, leaving a faint bloody lip print on your skin.
• If you have a cunt, he loves eating you out right after he pulls away from biting you, moaning into your cunt as he thrusts his tongue inside you; his chin dripping with your cum and blood as he eats you out like you’re the sweetest dessert that has ever graced his tongue.
• He doesn’t eat regular food that much but when you make it and add a drop or two of your blood on it he’s scarfing it down, he loves your blood so fucking much, He’s fed on other people but fuck, your taste is so unique it has his cock throbbing and his brain numb as he feeds on you; like a drug.
• His prized person, his everything, has no plans of letting you go anytime soon.
#nsft#genshin nsft#genshin smut#gender neutral reader#genshin x reader#hsr nsft#hsr smut#hsr x male reader#honkai star rail nsft#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine x male reader#aventurine x reader#gn reader#genshin x male reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#arlecchino x reader#gi neuvillette#gi arlecchino#hsr aventurine#aventurine#genshin impact smut#smut#blade x gender neutral reader#blade honkai#blade honkai star rail#blade x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you
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IF I CANT HAVE HER
pairing: dark!stefan salvatore x fem!reader, rebekah mikaelson x fem!reader
warning: stalking, obsession, unrequited feelings
stefan was one of your closest friends, even if he was a vampire. he was always there for you, when you first found out about the supernatural, when your friend vicki passed away, through all of it he was there for you.
when elena became a vampire and begun dating damon you and caroline were there for him. but stefan began to see you in a new light, you always had a smile on your face, you always knew what to say to him.
and he found his feelings for you growing.
him and elena were civil, leaving him free to go after what he really craved. you.
he found himself trailing after you once you left his home, watching you get home safe of course. every time the two of you were together he payed attention to literally everything about you, noticing every slight change in demeanour.
stefan always walked you home when he could, making sure you were safe. you were a fragile human! you needed him. everyone around you could tell he was in love you with you, but you seemed to deny it every time anyone forgot.
through the race for the cure stefan had managed to convince you to side with himself and rebekah. but what he didn’t expect was for you to gain a crush on her, and her on you. the two of you became peas in a pod and stefan was left alone.
you couldn’t stop rambling about how gorgeous she was, how sweet she was to you. even caroline was able to relate to you in secrecy for her shared affection for a certain mikeaelson.
“it’s just, everytime im around her i have the best time possible. there’s always something going on or something she wants to show me or give me. i’ve never been spoiled like that by any boyfriend or girlfriend.”
“as much as i hate her, i will admit she’s much nicer around you.”
“and as much as i despise klaus, he’s tolerable around you. that drawing he made of you is absolutely gorgeous care.”
“i know, but tyler found it and had a freak out.”
“no way!”
and all stefan could do was listen, you were so happy and he wasn’t the reason.
it would all change soon enough.
#tvd x reader#the vampire diaries x reader#stefan salavatore x reader#stefan salvatore#stefan salvatore x fem!reader#yandere!stefan salvatore x reader#yandere tvd#dark!stefan salvatore x reader#rebekah mikaelson x reader
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Request!
I posted details here, it’s for Gale!
https://www.tumblr.com/cherifrog/739699979425333248/anyone-else-interested-in-like-a-super-jealous
YUHHHHH now THIS is what im talkin about!!!!!!!
*cracks knuckles* lets get this party started shall we
(I am so sorry to be answering this literally a million years too late I’ve redone and rewritten this prompt like 100000 times but I finally like this version!!! so here we go!!!)
Gale x AFAB f!tav
rating: oh boy this one is certainly rated M for mature
CW: smut, inappropriate use of mage hand, rough sex, PiV, oral, gale being jealous and going absolutely FERAL
word count: 5.4k
let’s get itttt
If looks could kill, surely, Astarion would have been long dead— well, even more so— by now.
Gale was never exactly fond of the pale elf from the start, and he was well aware the feeling was likely incredibly mutual— but gods, he swore he was beginning to actually hate him.
At least, he hated the way he looked at her. The way he leered at her. The way he purred her name with that practiced and over-rehearsed seductive charm of his. The way he would lock piercing crimson eyes with Gale’s blazing umber ones as he cozied up to her at the fire with that deviant and knowing smirk on his stupid pointy face. The way she would smile at him the warmest, kindest, most hopelessly and adorably oblivious smile in response to the charlatan’s blatant advances.
Maybe he did hate him, upon further reflection. If only for the last reason alone.
Astarion would find any way to touch her and be able get away with it— his hand lingering on the small of her back as he passed her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, brushing hair out of her face when stray pieces fell over her eyes— all things that seemed innocent enough until you realized who was doing them and the devious smirk on his face when his gaze would meet that of the wizard that was surely plotting his second untimely demise.
Though, he could hardly blame him.
And Gale never got upset with her, of course, he knew it wasn’t her fault and honestly, he truly didn’t blame Astarion for wanting her— gods, who could possibly resist her?
Certainly not Gale, not even if he tried; and he had tried, to no avail. Yet that didn’t quell his frustration toward the silver haired and equally silver tongued vampire for attempting to swoop in on what was likely the first real chance at mortal love he’d had in a very long time.
He’d spent the early days in their adventure together absolutely beside himself with how taken he was by her nearly instantly. He felt like a smitten schoolboy all over again when he thought about the feeling of her soft but strong hands gripping his as she pulled him from the stone by the nautiloid crash with most impressive ease, the way she looked at him with wonder and curiosity, and even a flicker of something else that he recognized as attraction because he imagined it was mirrored in his own face at the sight of her.
It was then only worsened by the night that they channeled the weave together and the kiss she’d pictured them sharing— the way their limbs tangled and their lips pressed together softly, then passionately and fervently. Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut tresses and his hands gripping the fabric at her waist— that image will be burnt into the fabric of his mind forevermore, he’s certain.
Not to mention, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flared and flushed a heavenly shade of pink at the way he praised her as she successfully mimicked the incantation and his motions. It was enough to have him panting and attempting to tame the straining erection in his trousers when he retired to his tent that night.
He thought he’d mastered the art of managing to keep such thoughts like that at bay during his time of isolation as he tried to keep the orb sated and calm and very nonexplosive— but that was before her, after all.
It was pathetically easy at the time, considering his amount of interaction with other humans had gone from healthy to nonexistent entirely so he didn’t have much to think about aside from himself; perhaps when he was truly desperate or feeling especially lonely, he’d think about Mystra and the nights he’d spent in Elysium with her (literally and metaphorically).
But now, any attempts to be chaste or think chaste thoughts were moot in her presence.
Especially after the night they shared under the stars in the wilderness of the Shadow Cursed Lands.
They’d hardly been able to go more than a few hours without some kind of touch in the days following that perfect evening— whether it be a hand on her lower back, or holding one of her much smaller hands in his as he helped her scale a wall or hop across a boulder that she was more than capable of managing herself. A stolen kiss when no one was looking. Or, if they were lucky, they could steal a few moments alone in some ruined and crumbling crypt where he could bury himself between her thighs and send a silent thank you to whatever gods had a hand in creating a creature as divine as her.
That being said, they hadn’t been entirely discreet about their affections— not that they really wanted to be. Gale certainly had no reservations about making it known that he was claiming her for himself, despite his gentlemanly nature chastising him for it and reminding himself she was a person, not a prize to be claimed.
He would never say that she was, anyway, do not mistake it— being raised solely by a woman such as the inimitable Morena Dekarios had beaten into his core that women were not to be claimed or to be owned but to be cherished and treated as your equal. He would never claim otherwise, he couldn’t.
On the other hand, he was also acutely aware that his were not the only set of eyes that wistfully tracked her every move and every breath throughout the day within their strange band of wayward souls, and a very base part of him needed to send the clearest message he could muster without flat out verbally declaring that she was his.
It was very unlike him, this sort of possessive and primal nature, but he couldn’t deny that a small fraction of himself that he usually shoved into the deepest recesses of his being loved it for that fact. It was a part of him reserved only for her, as she was the only one who’d ever been able to coax it out of him.
And thus, he felt absolved of any guilt about the way he glared daggers at the side of Astarion’s head and pictured hurling a fire bolt at the undead man as he spoke to her in hushed tones across camp.
At least he knew it wouldn’t kill him. Although, he’d probably slit Gale’s throat for singing his singlet in return.
It was enough to keep the heat in his palm at bay for the time being.
He tried to discreetly move close enough to hear their conversation, moving toward Wyll’s tent that happened to be just a few paces away from Astarion’s and disguising his intentions as simply having a chat over a glass of wine with the warlock.
Wyll’s eyes light up as the wizard approaches, shooting him a dashing and very princely smile that he was certain had made many a maiden swoon in his younger years as the duke’s son, galavanting through ballrooms and dragging said maidens to the dance floor after either one too many glasses of brandy or none at all.
“Gale, my friend! Fancy a glass of wine?” He kindly proposed, tilting the glass in his hand in Gale’s direction.
Gale offers an almost genuine smile, nodding. “Thank you, Wyll. I think a hearty glass of wine is just what I need at the moment,” he laments with a sigh.
Wyll disappears for only a moment before returning with a glass and wine bottle in hand. “That bad, huh?”
Gale gratefully takes the silver glass and holds it out for Wyll to pour the rest of the Amnan Liquer he’d been holding onto since their escapades at the former Rosymorn Monastery turned Githyanki Crèche.
He turns his body just enough to keep both his lover and the offending vampire in his line of sight, attempting to tune into their conversation and realizing that he can faintly hear the melodic hum of her voice, as well as the silky tones of Astarion’s.
Firebolt. No, no.
Wyll’s eyes dart between Gale, then Tav, then Astarion, his eyebrow raising. “Astarion certainly doesn’t lack in the gall department, I’ll give him that.”
Gale huffs a bitter laugh. “Can’t fault him. As much as I want to.”
Wyll gently bumps his shoulder into Gale’s with a reassuring smile. “One can’t always be a gentleman, Gale. I respect your restraint, but if I were you, even I would be cutting in on whatever it is that he’s doing with her. Love the fellow, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”
Gale goes silent, giving himself a moment to try to catch any of what was being said between them, only hearing the sound of her laughter intermingling with Astarion’s— and suddenly Wyll’s advice had become all the more tempting to follow.
I could just go over there, he thinks. ‘Assert my dominance’ the old fashioned way. Or…
A wickedly devious idea flutters across his mind, and a smirk forms on his lips. Before he can realize it and stop it, Wyll’s tadpole connects to his, and Wyll snorts as he sees what debauchery Gale’s brain had concocted.
“She’d have your arse in a second,” he jokingly warns. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Gale wanted to listen to reason (Wyll Ravengard being the voice of reason, in this instance) and just do the diplomatic thing as he always did— but a part of him wanted to make a show of it all. To show her as well as everyone else the lengths he’d go to for her.
He whispers a simple cantrip and waves his hand, blue light glowing from his palm as he calls for a spectral hand to appear before him. He eyes the mage hand for a moment, waving his fingers and watching it as it mirrors his movements with perfect accuracy. A rush of excitement passes through him as he ponders the possibilities, but debates for a moment whether he should— only to hear the lovely melody that was her laughter once again and his decision was sealed.
He commands the hand to become invisible, the only way for him to tell it was still there was the very faint outline of it that you could only notice if you had been looking for it. He flicks his hand in her direction, commanding it to fly toward her.
“Your funeral,” Wyll chuckles, taking a long sip from his chalice, eyebrows raised.
The hand obliges, quickly floating to her but stopping just beside her. She shivers slightly as it grazes her bare shoulder, her head snapping in the direction of the sudden sensation.
Gale freezes for a moment, praying she doesn’t catch on too soon. When she finally turns her attention back to Astarion, he relaxes, then motions for the hand to gently brush her hair over her other shoulder, causing her to jump and look again, her eyes narrowed as she scans the area. Her gaze lands on Gale, and he tries to remain composed but cannot hide the pleased smirk on his face. She furrows her brows, a look of confusion and suspicion on her face as she turns away once again. She still hadn’t caught on just yet, much to Gale’s delight.
He continues once again, now commanding the hand to gently caress the back of her neck, the cool sensation of its spectral palm causing goosebumps to rise and her hair to stand on end. She sucks in a sharp breath, causing Astarion’s eyes to snap up to her.
“Everything alright, dear?” He hears Astarion ask, his signature shit-eating grin still on his lips.
She nods, clearing her throat. “Mhm, sorry, I just— ah, got a bit chilly.”
He cocks a brow at her. “I would offer to warm you, but I don’t think that I am qualified for the task,” he jokes, causing Gale’s jaw to clench.
Firebolt. Ooh, better yet, Fireball. Ice knife. Lightning bolt, perhaps?
She laughs, then gasps once again as the hand has now relocated to the front of her, gently tracing the outline of her collar bone. It then follows the curve of the top of her breast, settling between her cleavage for a moment before continuing down further and further, grazing her abdomen before stopping just at the waistline of her breeches.
“Gods, I shouldn’t be watching this,” Wyll grunts, shaking his head and allowing his gaze to drop to the ground.
She turns and shoots a piercing look at Gale, now fully aware of what was happening. He winks at her, before commanding the hand to continue its journey down her body, ghosting over the spot between her thighs. She squeezes her legs shut tight, in an attempt to quell the heat pooling low in her core despite her rising frustration toward Gale and her embarrassment.
“Darling, do you need a blanket? Perhaps we could move into my te—”
“I’m fine,” She blurts, loud enough so that she knows Gale hears her, as she refuses to give in to his childish behavior. “What were you saying?”
As Astarion continues whatever riveting story he’d been telling before she distracted him, she shoots Gale one last pathetic glance, not sure whether she was begging him to stop or keep going. He smirks, taking her pleading eyes as his queue to continue, moving the mage hand southward and grazing her blazing hot center.
She sucks in another breath, this time a lot quieter, her head falling back that she attempts to play off as if she were simply looking up at the stars.
Astarion’s head shoots up to look at her again, almost as if he were beginning to get frustrated.
“S-stars are bright tonight,” She stammers, eliciting a chuckle from Gale. He was enjoying this far too much to stop now.
He wills the hand to press two fingers down right where he knows her clit is, reveling in the way her back arches at the sudden touch, right where he knew she loved it.
Astarion’s eyebrow raises as he eyes her, her face flushed, her hair in disarray and her legs clamped shut tight. He was— unfortunately for her— very good at reading body language, even more specifically hers, and he was beginning to catch on to her predicament. His eyes dart over toward Gale who was not at all subtle with the devious smirk on his face as his hand continued commanding the spell.
“Your wizard is clever, I’ve got to hand it to him.” He smirks, stifling a chuckle.
Her eyes go wide, the hot blush in her cheeks only increasing.
“I’m going to kill him.” She hisses through gritted teeth, before twisting and facing Gale, who could not contain the triumphant grin on his face despite her very displeased expression.
“Do it out where I can watch, won’t you, darling? I’m quite overdue for a good show.” He calls after her, watching her storm toward Gale, shaking his head and chuckling with delight.
Gale dismisses the spell as he spots her making a very angry beeline toward him, then crosses his arms behind his back innocently as she approaches him.
“I warned you, you cheeky bastard.” Wyll grumbles, watching with anticipation and vaguely hidden amusement as she stomps toward the wizard beside him with murderous intent.
Gale offers her a smile as she approaches, to which she only offers a grimace.
“Hello, my love. Feeling alright?” He says equally as innocently, in spite of the devilish grin on his face.
She shakes her head. “Tent. Now.”
He raises his hands in defense, shit-eating smirk ever persistent. “Your wish is my command, darling.” He draws out the pet name to mimic the way Astarion says it, earning a rather angry eye roll.
He trails behind her as she continues her warpath toward his tent, his heart racing as he imagines exactly what he plans to do the second he gets her alone— he’d saved those thoughts for after Wyll’s tadpole’s connection broke from his own to spare him the filthy details.
She ducks into his tent brusquely, the flap slapping closed behind her before he makes his own way in after her. He chuckles at her ire, and the fact that in any other situation he’d be on his knees begging her for forgiveness in response to her irritation toward him— but this time, he planned on using it much to his advantage. Fuel for the fire, so to speak.
The second he enters the tent, her wild eyes are on him and she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest which was still heaving, her face still completely flushed.
“What the hells is wrong with y—”
Her tirade is cut off by lips roughly crashing onto hers, her words being instantly smothered then swallowed by him and his tongue and the bittersweet taste of wine on his breath. She wants to fight back but finds her efforts moot as she instantly melts into him, allowing him to maneuver her exactly as he wishes.
Rough but elegant hands grip her waist, pulling her body flush to his, enough for her to feel the erection straining to be freed from his pants against her lower stomach. The heat that had been coiling and pooling low within her had only reignited with a vengeance now, partially fueled by her anger toward him and mostly fueled by her ever present desire for him.
His hands migrated to palm the swell of her ass, kneading the plush but still firm flesh that always caught his attention even in the worst moments such as the middle of a tense battle— something he almost felt the need to punish her for, even though it wasn’t truly her fault.
His tongue explores her mouth hungrily as her hands move to begin undoing the buttons of his linen shirt, before one of his hands catches her wrist and holds it, lacing her fingers through his. He breaks the kiss, dark umber irises pooling with pure liquid lust and carnality as they meet her more perplexed ones.
Leaving her unspoken questions unanswered, he unbuttons her pants with one hand, yanking them down her legs until she takes it upon herself to kick them off and discard them somewhere on the ground within the tent. He tugs at the bottom edge of her shirt, and she wordlessly grants him permission with only a small nod and a raise of her arms to afford him some ease in ripping it over her head and adding to the growing pile of clothes scattered across the floor of the small space.
She’s lit only by the soft orange glow of the campfire leaking in through the crack of the tent flap that neither of them had bothered to seal, her skin radiant even in the dimness of the night. He drinks in her frame, eyes skimming along every contour of her body, every rounded edge and every sharp one— even the shadow she cast against the back wall of his tent was erotic, all hips and curves and the most heavenly structure.
As if she’d been lovingly built by Sune’s own gracious hands.
“Lay down,” he commands, pointing to the bedroll that he’d preemptively fixed and made extra comfortable with several more layers of blankets, pillows, and furs. “And spread your legs for me.”
She obliges instantly, quickly but gracefully laying atop the nest of cotton and fur and velvet, her hair splaying around her head and framing her like a halo— only serving to make his already painfully stiff cock twitch against the fabric of his pants and a bead of precum leak from the tip. He feared he may not even be able to make it long enough to be inside of her at this rate.
“That’s my girl,” he almost moans, his voice low and husky and reverent as he drops to his knees before her, moving to kneel between her legs. “My beautiful girl.”
She blushes and shyly looks away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to bite back a smile. He leans over her, gently gripping her chin with his fingers and moving her face back to look at him. “Eyes on me, my love. My love.” He drawls, dragging out his words in hopes that they’d have more time to sink into her precious mind that he cherished just as much, if not more than her wholly divine body.
Gale was all together a typically patient man. He did almost everything meticulously and gracefully. He would spend hours studying a particular topic just to ensure that he’d get it right the very first time.
Gale as a lover was no different.
He’d spent hours and even days at this point learning everything he could about her body— every sensitivity, every weak spot, ticklish spot, every scar or freckle or blemish. The things she was insecure or shy about, the things that would send her eyes rolling back into her head.
He had become a consummate virtuoso at worshiping her body and what granted her the most pleasure possible. He lavished her in it, bathed her in every ounce of bliss he possibly could until she could no longer speak, much less think properly.
Tonight was no exception— though he was considerably less delicate than was typical for him, as he hungrily lapped at the heat between her thighs as if it contained the last drop of honey on the face of Faerun. He licked and kissed and sucked and drank in every bit of her essence he possibly could, not stopping even after she’d already come just to wring out every last bit of her pleasure for his own selfish need. The selfish need to taste her, to savor her. To devour her.
He didn’t stop until she was a tangled mess of shaking limbs and clammy skin and teary eyes, and she whimpered his name like a plea. Whether it were a plea to stop or to keep going was unclear for both of them.
He lifted his face, his beard and lips drenched in her slick as he licked the remains of her off of his lips and fingers, causing her to clamp her legs together at the sight. He smirks triumphantly, knowing full well that she was nearing being entirely spent and yet she still wanted more.
“Please,” she whimpered, leaning up (very unsteadily) to finish unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and the fabric. He relents and allows her to make her best attempt with her trembling fingers before he takes over for her, lifting it over his head and discarding the linen nearby.
Her finger gently trails from the dark purple mark of the orb on his chest down the hard planes of his torso until she reaches the waistband of his pants, dipping her finger underneath and tugging at it. Her eyes meet his full of intent, and he feels the tadpole in his head stir as she tries to connect to him.
I need to suck your cock. Please.
His eyes darken as he looks at her, the image of her perfectly pink lips wrapped around him searing into his mind— whether it being his own thoughts or hers invading his didn’t matter— but he shakes his head, then severs the connection.
She frowns, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He rubs his thumb along the swollen softness of it as he caresses her chin, tilting her head back slightly to get a better view of the elegant column of her neck. He had plans for the perfect and smooth expanse of the area between her jaw and her clavicle that he soon intended to enact. But not yet.
“Naughty girl,” he chastises her, but not without a devious smirk and a hint of lustful playfulness.
She whimpers again, sending goosebumps down his arms and the hair on them to raise on end. “Please, Gale. I want to make you feel good, I need to make you feel good,” she stammers, her eyes peering up at his, wanton and needy.
It was enough to almost oblige her request, but he knew if her mouth came anywhere near his already all too sensitive cock that he’d come apart at the seams instantly, and that just wouldn’t do.
“And I need to be inside of you,” he retorts, his voice soft but stern. “I need to claim what’s mine.” He nearly growls.
Gentleman Gale reprimands him in his mind, but is quickly overtaken by Her Gale— the one that only answers to her and belongs solely to her. The one that hoped with everything in him there was also a part of her that was his and only his.
Her mouth opens to speak, and he half expects her to yell at him and berate him for reducing her to a prize to be claimed— and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t.
“Please. Please come here, please fuck me,” she begs, the rasp in her voice as she does nothing short of absolutely erotic.
He needs no further instruction, and quickly removes his pants and undergarments, his erection springing free and already slick with his own desire. She eyes it with a hunger that he recognizes and has to ignore before the temptation to fuck her mouth grows any stronger.
He presses his strong but gentle hand against her chest, slowly pushing her back against the pillows as he moves to position himself at her entrance, her legs wrapping around his hips and urging him forward impatiently. He taps the side of one of her thighs in warning, rubbing the head of his cock across her already soaked folds to further lubricate it and tease her.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”
She whines, her voice broken as if she truly might cry if she goes another second without him inside her. “Gale.”
He chuckles darkly, once again pressing the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, slipping in as slowly as he can manage, mustering every bit of strength and willpower he has left not to just bury himself in her as deep as he can.
“Tell me,” he commands, his voice low and gruff but still needy, almost desperate.
She connects the dots instantly, knowing exactly what he wanted. What he craved. “I’m yours, Gale. Only yours.”
She cries out in shock, slight pain, and pure ecstasy as he harshly snaps his hips into hers, his cock burying to the hilt in her velvet heat.
Home. This felt like home.
He knew that he probably should have given her more time to adjust to him, and it was something he’d surely feel guilty about later, but Her Gale wanted her to feel it tomorrow. He wanted her to be reminded of this moment as she goes on about her day through the ache between her legs as she walks, constantly reminding her who fucks her like this, who loves her like this.
“My pretty girl, my perfect girl,” he chants, his words leaving his lips like a litany of prayer as if he were in a temple of worship. He’d always been a man of religion, but this was holier and more divine than anything he’d ever experienced— even sharing a bed with an actual goddess couldn’t compare.
She throws her head back, her eyes shut tightly and she desperately grips at the pillows around her to ground herself, her neck on full display. He leans down to place wet kisses in a trail from her jaw to her collarbone, biting and sucking in very obvious spots that she’d be hard pressed to be able to cover in the morning.
She writhes and moans underneath him, one of her hands moving to grip the back of his head and fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the sensation of her fingers tugging at his scalp blending from slight pain into pure pleasure earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbles in his chest.
He feels her tighten ever so slightly around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a sort of warning. He continues his pace, driving her closer and closer to the precipice.
“Gale, I’m gonna—”
“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he coos, leaning down and pressing his lips to her sweat slicked forehead, then whispering, “come for me, my love.”
It wasn’t so much a demand as a desperate request, as his need to feel her come on him and to ride out the waves of her pleasure alongside her became almost devastating.
To urge her on even further, he slipped a hand down and began to rub quick circles around her clit as he pounded into her until she saw stars— it wasn’t long before she completely shattered underneath him, tumbling into free fall off the edge of the best orgasm she’d ever had.
She cries out a jumbled mess of I love you and I’m yours with his name sprinkled throughout as she reaches the peak and dives off the edge, her hips rocking upward into Gale’s as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. He feels himself quickly approaching his own finish line, the feeling of her cunt pulsing and hugging his cock tighter and tighter driving him further and further.
A few more thrusts and he was done for, spilling everything he had in her and grunting her name as he came, the entire fiber of his being ripping apart and repairing itself as he went limp above her, barely having enough strength to brace himself with his hands on either side of her head as he gripped the pillows so that he doesn’t crush her under his weight.
They both fall silent apart from the sounds of their breathing steadying and slowing to a calm and regular pace, the only other sounds being that of the distant crackling of the fire and the even more distant sounds of their companions still wrapping up for the night and preparing for bed.
Her eyes flutter open to find his in the dim light of the fire, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek. He sighs and leans into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of her palm, the coarse hair of his beard scratching her skin and tickling it, making her giggle quietly.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she jokes, causing him to nibble at the skin of her palm playfully. “That wasn’t funny, Gale.”
He smiles and reaches for a rag to clean her up with. “I had hoped this would serve as an adequate apology.”
She sucks in a breath as he pulls out and rubs the rag across her still sensitive and throbbing core, her hips bucking upward slightly with some discomfort. “You expected to fuck me into complicity?”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he finishes cleaning her, then tosses the rag aside and lays beside her, pulling her onto his chest.
“Not exactly,” he says, earning a disbelieving grimace from her. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I just— I don’t think you realize that seeing the way he interacts with you and the way you interact with him is nothing short of agonizing for me.”
She saw the hurt in his eyes even in the dark— the ache and the gnawing need for reassurance. She understood it all too well, as she’d done the same when the topic of Mystra would get brought up in the earlier days of their relationship.
“There is no other set of arms I’d rather have wrapped around me right now than yours. There is no other company I’d rather share in the way I share in yours. Don’t you know that?” She asked, shifting so that she’s leaning over him, his big brown eyes resembling those of a puppy being told it was a good boy.
“I am yours, Gale Dekarios,” she whispers. “Body and soul.”
Relief and pure elation smoothed out the concern from his features. He pulled her closer to him, until she was mostly on top of him and her head rested on his chest and he could press a long kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and shutting his eyes, both of them drifting into a peaceful slumber.
#gods I’ve been needing to write some wizard smut for so long this was a relief fr#fic request#one shot#my fics#gale#gale x f!tav#gale bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x tav#gale romance#bg3 gale#baldur's gate iii#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfic#answered#wyll#astarion
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Ellie i want astarion to fuck my mouth
im SO sorry queen i had to make the meow meow a lil emotionally vulnerable while im at it pls forgive me 🐸
(cws: gn!reader, vampire fuckery, bg3 spoilers, oral (m! receiving), teasing, possibly ooc astarion bc im only starting act 2 LOL, jealousy sex, deepthroating, a touch of feral/rough sex, facefucking, astarion is so in love it makes him look stupid <3)
word count: 3.9k
Once again, an evening spent with your mind somewhere else is interrupted by something you weren't expecting. The fire gleams from the pit and washes warmth across your face, a glow cast over your skin as you sit with your fingers white-knuckling a cold mug. Your companions are off on their own save for Scratch, who despite being a bit furrier than the tavern's normal patrons sleeps quietly at your feet. It barely took any convincing to let him in considering the rather stellar reputation you've earned yourselves–not to mention you're sharing a spot around the hearth with a couple frizzy-haired barbarians and a Tabaxi bard strumming out a tune on her lute. All seems peaceful, the noise just relaxed enough that you can let your mind wander about all manner of things. Ponder all sorts of worries you have yet to deal with on your adventure.
But it seems you're destined for an interruption. The back of your neck prickles from nowhere, a chill slithering coldly down your spine…from the corner of your eye you spot him, his pale hand vanishing behind a door on the second floor of the inn.
He's watching you. That's your cue, his methods of distraction always seeming so trivial and out of the way–he could always just come over and tap you on the shoulder. But Astarion likes the chase and isn't much of a fan of sincerity, so it's only natural for you to pass your half-empty mug off to one of the barbarians, get a bumbled shout of gratitude and a slap on the back, and slip away from the night's bustle of the tavern to thump your way up the winding stairs. All four of the rooms have been rented out by you and your party but one will sit empty tonight–aside from your gear, you're fairly certain your room will be unoccupied as you find other sleeping arrangements.
Tap tap. Just in case there's danger looming too close to comfort, you and your partner have a particular signal. Just as your knuckles come away from the door the tapping echoes back, tap tap, and you smother a grin as your fist closes around the knob for you to step inside.
The oak door thuds behind you at once and clicks softly as the latch falls in place. Nothing but the ire of a god or a drunken ogre could interrupt you now….but there's not much to interrupt if there's only one of you here, and as your eyes sweep the simple room you don't spot hide nor hair of your darling creature of the night. You've got a teasing remark on the tip of your tongue, ready to let loose-
"Don't. Move."
-But before you can even take a breath, there's a blade's edge digging into your throat and a cold, lean body pressed up against your backside. Effectively caught between a rock and a hard place. Prey. Astarion's whispered commands, however deep and punctuated they are, only send shivers of delight through you rather than true fear–and you find yourself struck with a dumb grin, not at all immune to the soft touch of his lips as they graze your tender neck from behind. He's got his arm pulled so snug around your waist it feels more like the grasp of a lover than a robbery, but that's because it is.
"Light on valuables, huh?" You tease over your shoulder, your hands braced against his arm as it holds the knife so dangerously close to your pulse point.
"You aren't. Show me what you've got, or I'll look myself." He murmurs back, breath cool as it puffs shallowly against your skin. It's somehow sweet when he tries to be so hard-to-get with you–maybe, you wonder, he doesn't yet realize how attached you are to him despite all you've been through already. Enough that you don't feel the bite of harsh, real danger in your peripheral, which sooner leads him to loosen his grip and push you forward with a palm on the base of your spine–all while tugging the knife out of the way, of course. If you asked him, he'd say it's because it would be a waste to spill such divine blood all over the ground.
As you turn yourself around to face him, you come eye-to-eye with the glaring tip of the knife yet again. Astarion is half-dressed, a bit disheveled, looking as though he's on the cusp of needing a drink again. Those carmine-coloured eyes echo some deep, violent desperation, one that shakes his voice as he commands you with total sincerity to strip.
"Will you join me?" You ask, your voice tinged with adoring hope. It irritates him, hope. Usually, at least. Usually it doesn't rub him as wrong when you're the one with hope in your heart, but evidently tonight is different if his scoff is anything to go by.
"That depends." His gaze flits away as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, not as careful about nicking it with his fangs as he usually is. Something surely must be wrong if he's acting so strange, especially since nothing has happened lately that's seemed to upset him…at least not that he's told you. It could be something else entirely, or something you don't have any idea about. Once he meets your eyes again, the hand he's gripping the dagger in lowers slowly. It was just a prop, after all–never a real threat. "...So long as you don't forget who you pledged your love to. Me. I won't stand for all this…this nonsense I've seen of late."
You cock your head in reply with a raised brow, questioning and curious of what on earth he could be referring to. Astarion rolls his eyes but it's most assuredly a gesture to mask how weak your sincerity makes him, your honesty painfully boring but, at the same time, endlessly endearing. With a sigh he tosses the knife aside in an arc, the handle flipping over blade for it to fall perfectly on the tip, sunk half an inch into the table by the bed. He's got his attention locked on it for long enough that the shuffling of fabric is what turns his head back towards you, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips on instinct as he watches your clothing slip off your positively tantalizing figure.
"We're gonna have to pay for that, you know." Whatever you're saying goes right through both ears, the way your giggles shake your shoulders being all that he can focus on right now. He can barely tear his eyes away once you've wiggled out of your bottoms, and you're swift to remind him of his stare when you cheekily throw the travel-worn trousers in his direction. But all he does is grab a handful of them and press them to his face, not soaking in the scent as much as the undeniable warmth from just coming off your legs. They're only an introduction, however. They're tossed right back at you without pause, and fall to the floor in a heap that Astarion carelessly steps over to get to you. To get closer. He can never really get close enough, ever.
Even an inch away from you, though, your love does nothing to close that last shred of distance between you. Where he was eager to touch you just a few minutes ago, now he keeps his hands down like he's nervous about grazing you with just his fingertips. But despite that you can clearly see how he keeps eyeing your lips, so if he won't meet you the rest of the way, you simply have to do it for him. A quick peck on the chin is too much yet not enough–he endures a noticeable quiver through his body that he tries to stifle, but he can't resist raising a hand to your neck and tilting your head higher, just enough that you won't miss this time when he plants his mouth on yours. Deeper this time, much deeper, with his tongue making an appearance to slither from a cold embrace to your unbearably hot one.
You'd love nothing more than to take it further right here, right now, but there's something stopping Astarion that you'd like to get to the bottom of. Just as he's getting a little lost in your kiss, his eyes shut and fangs scraping at your delicate tongue as it moves with his, you break it off with a warm hand pressed to his chest and bring him back to your unspoken question.
"Azzy, what's wrong?"
"Don't call me that," He snaps back suddenly, brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He doesn't move away though–clearly you're a bit too enticing for him to rethink the embrace he has you in, nor the fact that you're bare and warm for nobody else but him. "So childish. Or did you simply forget my name already?"
"I could never forget you. Now tell me what's wrong, Az. You're acting weird."
This time, he just shoots you a glare that could kill you on the spot. It's damning, his fury terrifying enough written so plainly on his face….but it also stirs up something within you that won't be sated by words alone.
"Last time, darling. I'm warning you. And it's nothing. Just…" A shake of his head sends his perfect curls flying about, each one falling back into place more perfectly than he's coming across right now. "...I wish you had been around when I was alive. That's all."
"What do you mean?"
"The others are all…alive. Breathing. Warm. Some of them look at you like–like you aren't with me. Like they could sweep you off your feet without even a thought." He says it with so much defeat in his tone, so gently with so soft an edge that you almost can't hear it with the muffled sounds of the tavern under your feet. It's rare to hear him sound so…sad. It's a bit odd to think, but he often comes off younger than he is when he speaks this way. "Maybe, if…if I was with you, then…" He huffs, flinching away from your hand as it grazes his cheek. Yet, within a moment, he's turning back and nuzzling his face into your palm like he can't get enough, his hand coming up to brace your delicate wrist as if he's afraid you really will pull away from him. "...If I was with you, maybe I would never be what I am now."
"But I like who you are now." You insist, the smile slowly returning as it creases the edges of your lips. "I love you, Astarion. I mean it, I always will. Forever."
"Forever is a very long time, my sweet." You shoot him that naive look like you don't really get the gravity of what you're saying. You don't, on second thought–you haven't suffered through two immortal centuries like he has. "...Fine. You love me? Prove it, then."
His tone grows dark, as does the once-vibrant colour in his eyes. Something swirls about behind them like a shadow in the water of a blood-red lake.
"On your knees."
Huh?
"I said," The air grows hot around you despite the chill of his body on yours, a purr rising in the back of his throat as he pushes very gently on your shoulder. "Get on your knees."
And with his command hanging in the air, you follow so obediently you give him a pleasing shiver down the length of his spine and back. You sink down to the floor in one long, fluid motion, barely breaking eye contact as you brace yourself against his pale thighs. They don't even need your touch to come undressed, his pants falling with his thumbs hooked into the waist and tugged down just as easily as you did. He wastes no time in stepping out of them and kicking them away, but he doesn't really have the option to when you're already mesmerized by the image of what lies beneath–once the tip of his flushed, heavy cock sprung free of catching on his belt, you had your gaze glued to it like it's the first time you've ever laid eyes on him.
"I'll never get tired of this view." He smirks, all pompous and smug with no idea of the test of self-control he's about to face. Because although you may be the one beneath him, where you belong in this scenario, the haze over your eyes as you stare openly should be enough of a tell that your mouth is already watering. Astarion's gentle humming hits your ears as he takes himself in hand, tugging out a few slow strokes for your entertainment before he settles on holding it by the base, and guides it down towards your lips. He's so pale everywhere else that the ruddiness of the rubbery head is almost uncanny, but the pale pink blush that spreads throughout gives his flesh such a delicate look that you can't help but dive right in.
One slow, tentative lick up the tip, and Astarion has it written all over his face–he isn't going to be finished until you've got some bruises, that's for sure. You try another and he finally gets a grip on your head, fingers woven through your hair to keep you steady and to calm his trembling hands. Those soft kitten licks are always his weakness, each one a bit braver and deeper but peppered with hot little kisses in between. You press them all down the shaft and back, smearing the stiff flesh with spit and giving him a tongue bath that feels like it never ends–not that he wants it to, though. Those shaky breaths overhead are a telltale sign otherwise.
"More," He purrs, half-needy and half-demanding in the same breath. You kiss over his knuckles that still grip the base of his shaft, and can't help but smile up at him as he quietly taps the head against your lips, tap tap. Twice he knocks and begs silently for entry, and soon he releases a sigh from the depths of his belly as you swallow him down and welcome him in. "Show me what I deserve."
Astarion certainly doesn't need to tell you twice, he barely needs to tell you once. As soon as he's settled snugly where he belongs, he lets go of the grasp he had and watches in awe as you swallow. Every inch he thinks you can't take more of disappears inside your mouth, slid further and further until he starts to curve into the bend of your throat and loses the last vestiges of his willpower. All his strength saps into you like his teeth on your flesh–where he stole your power in your blood, you take it back just as easily with a flick of your tongue and the incessant squeeze of your throat.
"Getting impatient? Already? We've only just begun, love." You can feel the heat of his eyes shift as they turn further downward, no clothing able to serve as a boundary to hide the needy grind of your thighs together as you kneel. The reaction of your body to his rather lewd commentary doesn't help you either, and in one sweep of his gaze over your exposed figure he can see everything you're thinking like it's written across your skin in ink. "Don't stop rubbing those legs together. Show me just how badly you want me, darling."
It might be more embarrassing if you didn't know Astarion had seen it all already, and that he would most definitely be seeing much more of everything below in the future. The fact that you trust him with those fangs around all your sensitive areas is touching…and it also means he trusts you enough to be a little rougher when you're returning the favour. You've degraded yourself to a humiliating extent by being with him, by getting down on your knees for him no less, and with him wrapped so tight and cozy in your throat he's got a look like he's ready to make himself at home.
With a moan slipped in between the pauses, your beloved curls his thumbs down behind the shell of each ear, his palms laid flat against your temples so he won't let go so easily. The drawing back is easy, his cock parting less and less of the space inside until he's barely brought it back to the tip–but just as you're getting in a taste of his salty sweat and bitterly rich arousal as it sits heavy on your tongue, Astarion flashes you a wink and braces your face for impact as he thrusts back in. Your heat coddles every inch of him and shakes loose a string of raspy moans from his chest, while the scrape of your nails against his thighs and your soft, squirming tongue pressed flat against his girth only has him burning hotter. The first time is a tight fit for sure, but as he enters into a steady rhythm of pulling out and gliding past your sweet, stretched lips, each buck of his hips grows smoother and it gets easier with time. Sooner than either of you expected, you barely have to focus at all–you can sit nicely and let your attention wander up to his lusty gaze, idly suckling at whatever he manages to stuff inside for as long as he's able to keep it there.
"I know it's on your mind already, but tell me I'm beautiful, my sweet." Astarion croons like a cat to a mouse, speaking so sweetly like he isn't still ravaging the most tender areas of your throat, and fucking away any possibility of you speaking properly for the next little while. And he shows no signs of stopping, your squeaky, muffled moans as he grinds the heft of his cock against your tongue too delicious for him to think about it. But eventually he does, managing somehow to pry himself off of your beautiful, fucked-out, spit-slicked face to give you a chance. "Go on. Speak."
"Please," You croak, head hazy and your face dark with warmth. "You're so beautiful, Astarion, please. I love you."
"Will you love me forever?" You nod, the answer barely a hair's breadth from your swollen lips.
"For eternity."
Astarion takes a moment, a pause that lasts a lifetime or more, but the genuine joy that starts to spread across his smile could keep you alive for a century of centuries. It's not one you see often or ever see, but that makes it just as precious as any gold or treasure you might come across in your lifetime.
"...Eternity it is then, darling." One of those cold hands moves to stroke your hair, his touch fleeting yet his grip tight with desire as you lean in for a kiss–not on his lips, but rather the tip of his dick, of which is absolutely soaked by your influence…and of his readiness for the end, as you can see by the veins pulsing up the sides and the whole length twitching with anticipation. You can feel those little spasms through your tongue as it meets his slit, Astarion's chest heaving and fangs glinting as he gives in to the urges to nestle himself back inside. As much as he wants a proper kiss, he'll get one as soon as those frantic hips slow completely instead of picking up speed as he meets your delectable heat again. He could be using you for his pleasure alone for another two hundred years, and in your endless desire to please him you're not sure you'd oppose it–you know for a fact that once the centuries had passed, Astarion would be spending twice as long with his head down between your legs.
"One day, I'll tear that wretch of a vampire's heart out through his stomach," Astarion growls out of nowhere, suddenly sounding completely feral in the span of a moment. The ferocity with which he's fighting the tightness of your throat increases too, thought not much more than he already was–if you touched your neck you would feel the bulge of him sunk so deep he can see it, the rise and fall of that soft flesh tightening the knot in the pit of his belly. "-And we won't ever spend a day apart. I swear."
All you can do is ride with the pace he's offering, your throat cinching tight like a coinpurse the more he rams it with the full strength of his hips, nails digging into your scalp as he batters you rabidly without ever losing his grip. Soon, his query of "Ready, darling?" barely meets your ears, your attempt at not choking on each thrust and somehow sucking in a breath here and there too important for your survival.
And in a matter of moments, you're granted reprieve while also left hollow and empty at the same time, Astarion's fist yanking you back by the hair as he sucks in a huge, deep breath into his lungs. The twist of his other hand stroking himself down to the last few beats comes close to your face, your soft gasps for air the perfect background for your name to trickle out of Astarion's mouth–and with such a deep moan it rattles you through your blood down to your bones, you kneel and wait eagerly as your partner lets everything go for you. His balls tighten and squeeze as the pressure of that knot inside him snaps, and he watches with a devoted gleam in his eyes as you wear every rope of pearly cum he milks out for you in that orgasm that shakes him to the core.
"Look at that," He murmurs, voice nearly as wrecked and raspy as yours will be by tomorrow. "Painted like a canvas fit for the gods. Gorgeous."
If he could, he would save this image of you in a frame forever; your sweet, smiling face marred with the essence of him, your hair pulled back by his sweaty fingers but your eyes filled with so much love. Love, genuine and sincere, your giggles loopy and tired as you come down from the high, yet without any post-sex remorse that he fears each and every time you climb into his bed with him. It stays the same when he cleans you off and persists even once you kiss him, knees so wobbly you fall back into the sheets with the slightest push. You won't ever let him free, kiss after kiss pressed to his cold mouth as he climbs over you. Your ankles hook over his waist before he knows it, your smile desperate to be wiped off your face again once he chases that heat for the second, third, fourth, fifth, tenth time, until the sun rises and you're reminded of the downsides of entertaining a lover who never needs rest.
You might tell him you love him again when morning comes, despite the exhaustion tugging down your eyelids and the sweat pouring down your aching back. You probably will, knowing how naive and sincere you tend to be even when you shouldn't. Even so, this time…Astarion might not be able to pretend he doesn't feel exactly the same way.
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WHAT DOES DARLINS REACTIONS TO CERTAIN SITUATIONS SAY ABOUT THEM AS A CHARACTER?
A Darlin analysis >:)
Darlin is first introduced snooping around Wonderworld, looking for Quinn Fox, and is found by Sam, who happens to be on patrol that night. Right from the start, we learn a defining feature about Darlin: they are reckless when it comes to their own well-being.
Darlin’s first character arc centres on finding Quinn, a dangerous vampire with whom they had a brief relationship. They actively hide that they’re looking for him from David. They are caught by Sam, who quickly becomes defensive, knowing Darlin shouldn’t be there. After discovering they detected a six-month-old signature, Sam snarkily remarks, “If you were that good of a tracker, you should be in a lab being studied, not running around in the moonlight on some wild goose chase.”
When David finds out Darlin lied about still being in Washington, he calls Sam and sets up a meeting to discuss Darlin and the risk they’re putting on themselves, and unintentionally, the pack itself, dubbing it a “vigilante vendetta.” He explains that Darlin was never very close with the pack, which led to them “falling in with a less-than-savoury crowd” and finding Quinn. David continues by telling Sam about Darlin ignoring most of his check-in texts, how he looked into the two new members of the Solaire clan, and how the circumstances of their turning reminded him of Quinn. He therefore discovered that Quinn was never apprehended by the Department. While Darlin claimed they kept the information from the pack to protect them, David dismisses this as “short-sighted and bull-headed, but well-intended.”
Though Darlin constantly puts themselves at risk, it’s always in the name of protecting their loved ones. However, they clearly lack self-preservation skills, convinced of their own invincibility due to their accelerated healing ability. In the "Vampire Tends to Your Injuries" audio, Sam calls Darlin about information on Quinn and notes that they sound weird. They admit they’re hurt. Sam immediately expresses concern and chews them out for not going to see a healer to avoid being asked questions. When he arrives at their house, they ask if he is okay with the blood, despite being very hurt, their concern obvious despite their condition. He heals them up before lecturing them on taking on two vampires without backup: “You’re a werewolf, not a damn tank.”
When Quinn is caught, Darlin is out the door with David immediately. Sam meets them there, and when they find out Quinn will only speak to Sam, it upsets both of them. Still, they quickly agree because a girl’s life is on the line. Sam agrees, albeit reluctantly, though he makes a point of stating, “He should have to see you, hear you—he doesn’t get to hide away.” Darlin clearly appreciates Sam’s feelings on the situation—if kissing him was anything to go by (plus I was fully ready for Darlin to launch through the two-way mirror).
Another instance of Darlin’s reactions I adored was with Alexis at the Summit. At this point, they hadn’t interacted with her at all, with Sam actively dreading the inevitable. When Alexis refers to Darlin as “Sam’s latest conquest,” Darlin immediately corrects her, telling her that they’re mates. Alexis, who turned Sam because she wanted to be with him, is bitter about them being together and manages to get a rise out of them quickly. Porter is quick to save them from a public display, remarking, “You looked a second away from taking a swing at a half-century-old powerhouse, and that’s a fight I’d rather not witness.�� This furthers the fact that Darlin is quick to react, and that reaction is usually violent—if past references and Alexis feeling the need to say, “Problems don’t get resolved by hitting them,” are anything to go by.
Porter and Darlin seem to have a dynamic of harmless teasing and aggressive reactions, the first of which is in the "Vampire Boys Have It Out." Darlin opens the door to let Porter in, and he immediately takes a dig at Sam, which I can only imagine was met with a tense response. They’re more controlled around Sam, no doubt because the oncoming lecture wouldn’t be worth it.
Darlin’s tendency to jump to violence at the first sign of trouble complements their obvious strength. This is described by Sam at the start of the 2024 Valentine’s Day Sam audio: “Do you have any idea what it’s like to see a wolf of that size push off a tree, hit a guy jumping at vamp speeds, ash him, and still land on your feet?” Their ability to fight off two vampires and force Quinn makes this very clear.
They’re clearly a force to be reckoned with, and to top it off, they’re dating a fine-as-hell cowboy vampire who would both die for them and give them a lecture from hell for it.
Proofread and edited by @achios I LOVE YOU <333
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hello:)) could you maybe do a yandere kaname kuran with another pure blood girl? the girl could be a pretty inexperienced vampire, maybe she was kept as a human for safety kinda like yuki.. change around as you like!! thank you☺️☺️
if possible maybe even a little spicy 😏😏
YANDERE! KANAME W/ A PUREBLOOD READER — 🩸
Pairing: Yandere! Kaname Kuran x new pureblood! reader
Note: Yesss, ofc!
Format: Headcanons; 2nd person
WARNING(S): yandere themes, slightly suggestive (bad)
THE COLLAPSE OF many pureblood families had unfortunately not been uncommon. Yours, my dear, happened to be the unfortunate choice. And with their destruction went your title. You had been forced to live as a human, without a memory to your name. All for the sake of your being, a new bloodline. It felt surreal, like a dream. A dream you had no choice but to come to terms with.
Luckily (or not) for you, a certain Kuran was determined to revive your former self. The real one he had come to adore. Hah, it's safe to say you have a very extensive past with each other.
Though he admits, your parents did quite an extraordinary job at hiding your whereabouts. Not even your average pure blood was guaranteed success in their searches for you. However, Kaname is no ordinary pure blood; oh heavens no! He is the Kaname Kuran, a rather selfish and greedy man when it comes to those he holds dear to him.
You happen to be one of the few. How lovely~!
Kaname reaches out and cups your cheeks in his palms. He savored the warmth of your skin, for it was the last time he would feel it. The gentle flushing of your cheeks had gnawed away at his last ounce of composure. Truthfully, it wasn't in his best interest to ravish you, though it was tempting. It would simply have to wait.
He almost felt guilty for snatching it all away from you. The subtle beauty of being a human, living your life as anything bus immortal, passing on with those you held close. Ahem — almost.
“[Name],” The man cooed. “Do you trust me?” You blinked, resisting the urge to squirm under his watchful gaze. He was a patient man, though not when it came to you.
Even having you beneath him for hours on end had not been enough to quench his thirst. Even now, he awaited your answer like a loyal dog, itching for your affections.
“Y...yes.”
Your hesitancy didn't go unnoticed, not that it mattered anyways. Your skin went soft against the chill of his lips, it was definitely something you had to get used to. Kaname slowly nipped at your skin, lavishing it in wet, hot kisses.
He held your hand tight in one hand, fingers interlocked into one; whilst the other tucked loose strands from your sight. Gently stripping you of the silks that concealed your skin, allowing your blood to bleed through its sheer fabric.
“Let me know if it hurts, [Name].”
HE WAS QUICK to wed you after your transformation.
However, he’ll keep it a secret if you happen to attend the academy. There's no doubt that you’ll be transferred to the night class to live alongside him and the others. Though he tries so hard to hide it, he’s a possessive man at heart. Kaname in no way views you as an object, and yet he wishes to own your entire being.
Under no circumstances will you take blood from another man - or anyone for that matter. If you do, he’s quick to wipe them from your sight. You should never have to rely on someone who isn't him. Just the thought drives him insane.
Isolated and subjected to hours of needles, torturous thoughts of the world around you. The world you had once embraced in your mortal body. It's a shame what love does to a person. It's laughable, truly. You just happened to be one of the lucky ones to get to finally understand what hell feels like...
Im intrigued; wont you tell me a little, dear~?
Soft tears spilled from your puffy eyes for what seemed to be endless. They were warm, something your skin no longer was. You had tried not to let your sorrows consume you, but today, they’d bested you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you peer out one of the many windows that stretched along the Kuran manor. Well, your manor. And yet it provided you little comfort. “What’s bothering you so much, dear?”
Instinctively, you reach out, allowing the man to scoop you into his lean arms. You were a fool, your mother would scold you. How could you ever allow a Kuran to woo you so; to take away the mortal life you were gifted? But you couldn’t help it, he was all you had. Kaname was the only one who kept you warm at night.
Kaname was the only reminder of your old life.
Kaname was the only one you could trust.
Kaname —
“I’m sorry…” Kaname murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. “I truly am {Name}. Please, dry your tears.”
Sorry? Yes, that he was. Although not for the reasons you’re thinking dearest. He’s a Kuran after all; the man is bound to be selfish! Kaname is so, oh so very sorry. He hates seeing you cry…but, he hates the thought of losing you much more.
#—🍁#x reader#yandere x darling#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere x y/n#kaname kuran x reader#yandere hedacanons#kaname kuran#vampire knight headcanons#vampire knight
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me when the function got vampire enha 😝
no but seriously i’m going insane you can’t just post that and expect me to be normal about it!!!
me trying to work on my feminist criticism of snow white and then u drop the most brainrotting concept in my lap!!!
anyyywayyyyy… vamp wonnie…. ooooughh… he’d say such gentle things!! so sweet and kind!! promising you he’ll only have a little bit :3
but when you’re right there and you taste so good and you’re making such pretty noises >_< how could he stop???!
love, 🔗
(sorry if this made no sense!! i’m on new meds that make me a lil loopy hehe)
💌: LITERALLY ME WHEN THE FUNCTION GOT VAMPIRE ENHA!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 my gosh im gonna lose it plssss vampire jungwonie my beloved 😵💫 n pls baby do not apologize, i’m in luv with this <3
vampires are such beautiful creatures <3 some of them have lil features specifically for luring their prey; like a certain tone their voice takes as they whisper in their victims ear before puncturing flesh and draining blood.
but there’s something about jungwon that’s extremely appealing, whether it’s his sweet lil face that completely disarms you, making you completely forget that he’s quite literally an apex predator, or how he so easily he gains your trust, promising never to lay a finger (or fang) on you without permission, you’re unsure but all you know is that you’d do anything for him.
that’s how you find yourself offering a tentative hand to jungwon, he’s able to hear your heart racing and he struggles to silence a groan, not wanting to scare you off before having his first taste of your sweet blood.
“you’ll be gentle, right, wonie?” you question, voice quiet as the vampire inches closer to your wrist.
the only reassurance you get is a peck to your palm before he sinks his teeth into you, latching onto your soft skin, moaning loudly as he takes and takes and takes, his eyes red, like the rivulets of blood staining your arm and his lips.
it’s terrifying but it feels so fucking good, you think, mind hazy as the loss of blood gets to you. but he stops before you pass out, cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply, slipping his blood coated tongue in your mouth, the taste of iron making you wince; is this what he tastes?
jungwon pulls away and it leaves you gasping for air, uninjured hand finding its way to his hair as he kisses along your jaw before stopping at your throat, scraping his sharp fangs along your pulse point and that fills you with fear, mutters of no, no, no are all you’re able to get out but it’s not enough to make him stop, how could you be so dumb? you shouldve known better, there’s no way jungwon would be content with just feasting from your wrist.
a choked out gasp makes jungwon’s cock twitch and he’s rutting his hips against you, chasing his orgasm as the taste of you floods his senses, you’re all he can see, taste, touch, and smell, and your painful whimpers are like music to his ears.
it isn’t long before he’s cumming, he feels sticky and soso content, breathing out a sigh of relief when he detaches from you, wiping his messy mouth with the back of his hand. all you can do is lie there, cunt wet and aching to be filled. who knew a vampire bite could make you this desperate?
#♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.the honeypot#♡.sweetheart: 🔗#wah please save me from the brainrot#idgaf if this is bad i tried ok#i wanted to add more dialogue but alas..#enhypen#yang jungwon#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#yang jungwon x reader#yang jungwon smut
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HI ITS ME AGAIN BACK AT IT- Loved my last request so I thought I’d keep you on ur toes and give inspo
Vampire!Amber ( bc I’m a sucker for her ) x Werewolf!Reader, maybe like an established relationship from the last one but it’s secret, their team lost a match.. oh shit I’m already giggling and kicking my feet thinking about it.. ANYWAYS BYEEE
-🐦⬛anon
🐦⬛ anon ily. i honestly got a super off track but i will definitely rewrite it later to fit the ask better IM SORRY
smut. 18+ pls.
do not repost for any reason.
it was partially your fault that you lost today’s game. you were out of it, your senses were heightened to the max, but not any that could even remotely help you win the game, no. instead, your senses were on amber like never before. you could smell her so strongly, her perfume, her shampoo, even the sweat that coated her body. you could smell it all a lot stronger than you had before. and you could hear her heartbeat from the other side of the court, you could hear her shallow breath as she sprinted across the court. you werent sure what was happening.
amber knew, though. she knew the moment she saw you, smelt you really. she knew how horny you were before the game even started. she knew she had two options. she could fuck it out of you before the game started, or she could make it worse for you so the fuck after the game would be even better.
she chose the second option of course. she had dragged you into the bathroom of the locker room as everyone filtered out to the court, placing a hand on your mouth to quiet the sounds that were certain to leave your lips. she pressed a kiss to your neck, trailing down and tugging your jersey to the side. “you’re so pretty baby,” she mumbled against the skin, a muffled whimper leaves your lips. “can i taste?” you nod as best you could and thats all it takes for amber to sink her teeth into your flesh, your blood filling her mouth. she groans at the taste, she could taste how fucking horny you were.
amber nearly loses focus at the taste of your blood, but she’s quick to regain control of her own urges, letting her aphrodisiac laced venom fill the wound she had created. she pulls back, licking up any extra blood that threatens to stain your jersey. “taste so good, as always, baby,” she mutters, pressing a bloody kiss to your lips.
that was all before the game, and now, after? she was angry. at herself, partially, you even less, but angry at the rest of the team. they played like it was their first time playing, their movements groggy. god, if she knew thats how they would be playing, she wouldnt have urged your arousal on further than what it already was.
you were still completely tuned into all of amber, your senses seemingly only tuned in on her. your head was foggy, filled with her, eyes half lidded as your heart pounded in your chest. the ache between your thighs had become so unbearable, you needed amber to make it go away.
you leaned back against the cold metal of the lockers, hoping it would cool your heated skin even just a little bit. your teammates gathered their things, heads hung low as they hurried to get out.
amber was on the complete opposite side of the locker room. you could feel the anger radiating off of her and it only spurred your need for her on even further. god you’ve never needed her like you needed her now.
the second the locker room is empty, leaving just the two of you, you break the thick silence between you. “amber,” you whimper out pathetically, your thighs squeezing together pathetically.
amber’s in front of you in the blink of an eyes, settled down on her knees, staring up at your half lidded eyes. “oh my poor girl,” she says almost mockingly. “made such a mess, huh?” you nod pathetically, your hips bucking up to meet absolutely nothing. amber’s thumb strokes your cunt through your uniform.
“please, ambs, need you so bad. it hurts so bad, i need you to make it go away.” your words seem to pick her anger apart, the usual cocky tone in your voice long gone, traded in for a whiner tone, one so full of desperation it gives amber her own ache between her thighs.
“you’re so lucky right now,” she mumbles before pulling the bottoms of your uniform down, leaving your cunt to meet the cold air of the locker room. you hiss quietly as amber blows her own cold air against your warm cunt, her cold hands gripping onto your thighs. you want so desperately to close them, to let them help with the almost painful ache, but you know better. you know that whatever amber was about to give you would be thousands of times better than what squeezing your thighs together would do.
and youre completely right. amber’s mouth meets your warm pussy in an instant, her tongue lapping up the sticky mess you had made. you mind was clouded, full of need for your girl. amber’s tongue prods at your entrance, desperately trying to get as much of your juices as she possibly could before bringing you to your orgasm.
your hips buck up against her, your clit hitting her nose so perfectly you cant help the loud moan that falls from your lips. “im sorry,” you mumble out quickly, your hand moving to cover your mouth. amber shakes her head from her place between your thighs, tearing your hand away from your mouth.
“i wanna hear you, pretty girl,” she mumbles against your cunt. the vibrations force another loud moan to leave your lips. you can feel her smile against your cunt, before she continues her actions, lapping at your cunt so desperately, as if she needed you as badly as you needed her.
she did.
you’re so sensitive, every move amber makes against your cunt has you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. your stomach tenses, thighs trembling slightly. youre close. you and amber both know it.
“amber, im gonn-“ you cant even finish your sentence before youre coming undone against her tongue. youre breathless, guilt pooling in the pit of your stomach. or was that arousal? “im sorry, i didnt mean to, amber. i couldnt help it im sorry,” tears brim your eyes as your desperate eyes stare into amber’s lust filled ones.
“its okay baby, i know you couldnt help it. youre so worked up, couldnt keep it in, hmm?” you nod, feeling a little tired. amber kisses her way around your thighs before pressing a featherlight kiss to your pulsing clit. you’re already ready for more, already dripping at the thought of amber fucking you more.
“need more, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, pulling amber up to meet your lips by her jersey.
“dont be sorry, baby. you know i have plenty to give. just come to mine, ill give you as much as you need,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
and she does. she keeps true to her promise and you had never been more thankful for her inability to sleep than tonight. she fucked you good, using every single thing she could give you to bring you to your orgasm over and over and over again. she didnt stop until you had passed out on her, exhaustion becoming more than your arousal. but even then amber was still succumbing to your neediness, grinding down against her thigh whilst you slept.
amber had never seen you so horny before, but she loved every single second of it.
#🐦⬛. anon#mikey madison#mikey madison x reader#wlw smut#scream#amber freeman#scream 2022#amber freeman x reader#i want amber#scream smut#amber freeman smut#amber freeman is the loml#vampire amber freeman#amber#scream franchise#scream movie#i want mikey madison#save me mikey madison
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im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not
HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)
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General ideas:
Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.
Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.
Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out.
Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?
They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.
Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.
Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.
Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.
A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)
Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.
Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.
Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.
“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.
Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:
"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."
“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”
"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)
"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)
Soulmate aus:
My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.
First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)
Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)
General AUs:
Until dawn AU.
Gakuen Alice AU.
My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.
Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.
Infinity Train AU!!!!!!
Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:
seven minutes in heaven.
wrong number.
trapped in a closet.
movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).
one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.
short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:
“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.
Fuck it.
“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”
Courtney takes a step back.
“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”
Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.
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this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb
little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.
moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive
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SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))
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To all the group chats who are bored and need a hobby badly: goooo fuck yourselves!!!
#if me being cringe online is enough for you to talk about me then ur just bored. plain n simple.#if i was doing something wrong. well. you know how i feel right? call me out on it directly and ill try to understand why and stop.#damn its so easy to not just be a shifty sneaky pos. amazin.#yall DESPERATELY need to address and inquire about your need to shit talk someone whos just being cringe.#even if you found some dumb reason to justify it. say. being problematic in their youth inspite of it being 11 years later#and they dont do that shit anymore.#like. DESPERATELY need a hobby and need to find out WHY you thrive so hard on talking shit#anyways yall are enegy vampires to me so#ig ive stuck around so long bc i was goping youd notice when youve over indulged on blood but yknow.#thats a looot to ask for i guess.#if any of yall have to come to my blog every week to shit talk me out of catharsis. ya DEEPLY. need to evaluate that lol.#like thats 100% behavior of someone who feels inadequete so they shit on others to feel better.#i can smell a bitch like this from a mile away and all it has to do is w how much you shit talk vs actually talk about serious shit#that actually hurts people. and yall think you can hide behind a group chat but. just know that i know. kay?#:)#and i also dont give a fuck about you or anything that happens to you :) byeeee <3#grew up with ppl like all around me since i was birn so at this point i gotta sixth sense fer it.#its... sumn about the way ayll talk. carry yourselves. have this superiority complex over certain people. i can just *feel* it radiating#off of you. more to it than that but since im bad at communicating my thoughts (bc i have expressive language disorder asshole) which#i know mames me just oh so cringe and just simply Not Good Enough#oh and uh. the way yall are indifferent to me... avoid me... talk to me w unclear intentions. ya know. just shit like that.#people like that* since i was born*. i hate my huge phone.
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