#vampire meet and greet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 8 months ago

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❝ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR HOT COWORKER WANTS TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD, OF COURSE YOU'LL SAY YES !! ❞

✧ pairing: vampire! choso kamo x f!reader

✧ summary: choso kamo is your coworker who seems to hate your guts - even though you're both always stuck working together, but the only reason he does is because he wants nothing more than to eat you up -- blood and all.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, coworkers to lovers, vampire!choso, vampire bites are an aphrodisiac for both the vampire and the victim, no real dub/con b/c these two are already down bad for the other, mutual pining, scent kink, blood kink, blood sucking from neck / wrist, implied masturbation (m!), oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / yume041624

✧ wc: 7,193

It wasn’t as if you weren’t sure your coworker hates you—

You were sure of it.

He avoided you like the plague whenever the two of you were working on the same project. He always did his best to reply over email, avoid in person meetings, and he always seemed to get sick whenever the two of you had to greet the client together. But you didn’t know why — you hadn’t done anything to offend him, unless he had mistaken your hello for spitting in his face. And that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that he was exactly your type — fucking hot.

Dark locks tied into a bun with a few strands escaped its binding by the end of the day, his neat nails painted a dark purple that rifled through paperwork, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and lovely, deep eyes that barely had stolen a glance at you but you could spend a millennia exploring—

In summary, you had it bad.

And he didn’t seem to know — or worse, he knew and he hated it. Or you.

But maybe something could change today, you flicked a pen up and down between two fingers as you stole a glance at him across the now empty office, the two of you were stuck working overtime on this project for two days now. But he still had managed to avoid you — but not today when you were stuck in the same conference room sorting through boxes of files that your client insisted must be done today.

You were getting some sleep at a hotel across the street, taking a quick nap and shower before returning, but Choso looked like he hadn’t slept in days. And you didn’t know why.

You glanced up at him between sorting through boxes, and you saw him adjust his collar, loosening his tie, fabric gripped tightly under white knuckles. His head was hunched over, his expression hidden behind the box in front of him, but you saw a hint of red in his eyes. You bit your lip, now you were worried.

Maybe for the wrong reasons.

“Choso, are you okay?”

No, no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay after working overtime for two days straight. He wasn’t okay being stuck in this tiny, dimly fluorescent lit conference room reviewing files that would only prove fruitless and a waste of time for all parties, and what made it worse was you—

No, not you, his canines grew, sharp fangs digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lips,

Blood.

Your blood.

The very thing running through your veins and arteries, pumping through every crevice of your body through your heart — crimson stained your insides as it would your skin if pierced or cut — and it was the very thing that Choso wanted more than anything else.

But no, it couldn’t be anyone else’s — he bit his bottom lip as you stretched, your blouse and hair moving ever so slightly and exposing your neck — it had to be yours.

He pressed his hand against his face, palm covering the bottom half of his face as he forced himself to avert his gaze from you, all too unaware of his thirst — the very same that pulled his muscles taut and made his mouth water at the thought of you. His face was flushed — that much was for sure, as he felt the heat radiate from his face.

And he knew one thing for sure — that you were the one who’s blood would taste like the divine personified. But that’s why he had worked so hard to avoid you, to make sure he didn’t spend any time alone with you, lest his logic and sense fail him at once and he ends up with his fangs pressed to the nape of your neck at once.

No, he had decided he couldn’t do that. There were far too many times he had seen other vampires find partners this way — succumb to the urge — the draw of bloodlust — only for their partner to grow addicted to the pleasure that comes from the bite, and the relationship only fell apart when it was the only thing holding the relationship together. The bite could only do so much, it was an aphrodisiac for both parties, but not a miracle worker — chemistry burns bright and fast, but it could not make love exist if it wasn’t there to begin with.

And his avoidance of you had made any relationship between the two of you hard to happen — especially when every word you spoke sounded sweet and honeyed from those pretty lips. It didn’t help that he was reserved to begin with, but you made all words fall from his mind with only a glance — so what would a conversation do to him — much less a kiss?

“Choso, have you reviewed this one yet?” You ask, grabbing a box from his side, “I finished my half so I thought I’d help you finish yours,”

He shakes his head, “Go ahead. Thank you,” he barely manages through nearly gritted teeth, with barely a glance up — fuck, it didn’t help that you were always so kind, good at your job, and so pretty—

Fuck, the document he held crumpled under his tight grip, he shouldn’t have let it get this bad. Why had he let it get this bad? A few overtime shifts weren’t usually a problem for him — but being stuck with you? It was torture in the highest order — especially since he hadn’t been able to get home to his reserves at home and he had just run dry of the bottles he kept on himself this morning.

He sees you stretch again, this time your neck, and a heat began to creep on as he watched right over the top of the document he read.

Oh, he was so fucked.

You were going to ask him.

You were going to confront him about why he avoids you. You had made up your mind — you were tired of walking on eggshells without a reason. If you were going to be stuck working with him on future projects, especially with this client, he needed to tell you if this was how it was going to be.

And yet, you still sat, rereading the same document over and over, as the two of you were almost done wrapping up your work for the night. Choso was placing the last box he finished up away, a sigh stuck in his throat as he got to his feet.

“I’m going to head home,” he gets to his feet, a sigh on his lips, as he rakes his fingers through his black locks, “do you need help cleaning up?”

“No, I’m fine,” and he’s grabbing his things, as you bite your lip and stare at the shiny laminate of the conference table in front of you — fuck it, “I did have a question,” as he’s walking by in the doorway of the conference room, as your scramble to your feet, reaching for him, your fingers brushing his shoulder by mistake, and he’s tensing, “sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s fine, what’s your question?” His reply is curt but he won’t even turn to face you, his fingers fiddling with the watch on his wrist. You furrow your brow, was it you or was his body shaking?

“I just wanted to ask you if you had some sort of problem—“ and then his bag clattered against the floor, contents spilling out, as he supported himself against the door frame, slumped against it, as his fingers gripped it.

You gasped, a quick brush of your fingers to his shoulder again, “Are you ok? Choso?”

Choso’s head swam — he could barely hear anything — every sound drawn out and garbled, as if he had plunged his head underwater and words were echoing in his ears. He felt his knees buckle under his weight — and he can’t think straight — and for a moment of clarity he realizes why—

Your touch — it was a spark amongst a field of wheat in a dry heat — and it was enough to set his entire body alight. And now—as he barely held himself together, muscles tensed and eyes fluttering — a haze of heat blazing ribbons up his body, and down — right to his cock.

Fuck. He’s swallowing, his muscles taut, as he tugs at his collar, even the brush of his clothes against his skin enough to drive him to the point of insanity. And it doesn’t help that your scent fills his nose, honeyed and cloying and he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing the scarlet gaze would do nothing but elicit a scream.

“Please leave,” he says through gritted teeth, he can imagine the concern written across your expression, “go—“

“I’m not leaving you like this alone,” fuck, you only draw closer, the brush of your fingers against his shoulder enough to have him nearly keening for your touch — he’d nearly do anything you want for one touch, one drop of your blood, but he can’t — he can’t, “do you need water? What do you need?” And you’re helping him sit down on the floor of the conference room, as he clutches his bag to his front, desperate for something put between the two of you.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I needed, just go,” he’s pleading, head falling back against the wall — his mind is hazy, he can barely think about anything else but you — the way your soft lips are pursed in worry, the way your hands are so gentle against his skin and would feel so good gliding across his body, the way when he saw the multitudes contained within your eyes, but he only wanted to live in the warmth of your loving gaze, “I don’t want to hurt you,”

The words come as a confession, a last plea for you to leave, but you seemingly only chuckle, furrowing your brow, “how could you hurt me when you’re more terrified than I am?”

And oh you were so ignorant that you were inches away from a monster — a rabbit in a lion’s den, while you thought of him as a sheep — and his words weren’t enough to convince you, but maybe something else would.

His eyes flutter open to find your own, and he finds his own reflection in your irises — a blood red reflected back in your lovely gaze, as your mouth falls open, brow wrinkled, and breath caught.

“I-I-what?” and he sees your confusion written across your face, your fingers shaking as they brush against his cheek. Your touch sets his senses alight, a soft groan as he leans into your hand, his nose brushes against your wrist, and the thrum of your pulse ringing in his ears. His gaze finds yours — half moonshine with how it’s glazed over, “how?”

And his lips part, when your thumb drags down his cheek, hypnotized and entranced under a spell he didn’t mean to cast. He turns his head so your fingers catch on his lips, parting almost obediently, flashing fangs that has a flicker of confusion swallowed by horror and then consumed by fascination completely.

“Choso, what is—“

“You should go,” he murmurs again, “you can’t give me what you need,”

And you’re speechless, as if you wonder if you’re seeing what you are — but the longer you stare, the quicker it seems to sink in. You swallow.

“So you need my—“ and the sentence is cut off seemingly by the absurdity of the situation, as you mutter to yourself, “this can’t be fucking real,”

“It doesn’t have to be, you can leave right now,” he pants, sweat slipping down his forehead, and you’re still frowning.

“What will happen to you if I leave?” And he can’t think straight enough to lie, your fingers find his neck, to check his temperature but all it does is drive it higher.

“Nothing you need to worry about—“

“Well, I am worried,” you cut him off, squirming in place, “if you just take some of my blood, will that—“

“It’s not just that,” he’s shaking his head, fangs nearly grazing his bottom lip as he sighs, “do you know what your blood will do to me?” His eyes seem to flash, a chill down your spine, “but more importantly worry what it will do to you,”

And you stiffen, the spell waxing and waning as fickle as the moon never was, and that the thing about humans — you could never count on them to be consistent as all other things were. A beast can be predicted — their moves largely the same, caution put before hurt, but man gained consciousness and lost all reliability.

And you were no beast, not like him.

“What would…it do?” Your words are hesitant, carefully chosen, small jumps across stones rather than a leap across a rushing river.

And he lets the raging white water brush against your skin when his hand cups your chin, leaning closer and letting his breath warm your skin, “To reduce the pain, my bite is like an aphrodisiac,” his thumb rubs back and forth across your cheek, “you won’t be able to stop yourself, and since your blood would do the same to me — I wouldn’t be able to help myself either,” his nose brushes against your cheek, as he leans in to whisper in your ear, “you should go.”

But you don’t, silence settles over the two of you, until you choose to break it, “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

That’s what you had said — but how did that land you here?

You both walked to your hotel room in silence, his flushed face hidden behind a mask, dead on his feet as he trailed behind you to the room. It was lucky you had a room right across the street from your workplace. You didn’t know what you would have done if you had to stay in the office — the blood would have been hell to scrub off the wood.

And now here you sat after your shower, hair still damp as you toyed with the edge of your fluffy bathrobe, as you chewed on your lip. What had you gotten yourself into? You listened to his shower run, a sigh on your lips — it was fine. It would be fine. You just stick to the plan. You’d let him drink your blood, and he would lock himself in the bathroom — and you both would ride out your…symptoms alone.

Fuck, you bury your face in your hands, what the hell are you doing? And that’s when the water stops — the quiet rustle and shuffling of himself in the bathroom makes your heart leap into your throat, as you sit looking down at the floor.

“Are you okay?” his voice makes you jump even as you expect it, as your head snaps back to look at him. His black hair still wet from his shoulder, long locks clinging to his hair, droplets ran down his bare abs, your eyes following one down right to his happy trail only hidden away by his boxers—

Fuck.

He only continues to towel himself off, before grabbing his undershirt to pull it over his torso, as you choose to avert your eyes then — as if him getting dressed was any more scandalous than his shirtless state, “I am, I’m just a little—“

“You don’t have to,” and your eyes slide back to him, his face was still significantly ragged, dark bags and fatigue clung to body worse than the water did — looking more like a corpse than a bloodsucker, “it’s not too late for you to leave—“

“No I decided I was going to help, so I’m going to,” you say, and his brow forms the same peaks and valleys he had all day — and you were sure his skin would remember the carvings at this rate, “what?”

“Why do you want to help me?” he mumbles, arms crossed, a distinct flush in his cheeks settling that surely wasn’t just from his shower, “I don’t get it, we barely have spoken—“

“We have spoken, our first week,” and his eyes snap to yours, “you may not remember, but you helped me,” and your cheeks burned, squirming in place as you couldn’t quite meet his gaze, “I had messed up on a project, I made a huge mistake on a document, one that could have costed the company a lot of money, and my job,” you murmur, “but you also took responsibility, even though it wasn’t your fault,”

“I didn’t catch the mistake either, so it was my fault too—“ and you shake your head.

“It was mostly mine still,” you offer a small smile, “and so if I can help you like this, I want to,” you shift, swallowing as an awkward silence falls over you both that you break, “why did you want to shower first anyway? You were ready to pass out earlier,”

“I still am,” he admits, and you notice the subtle shake of his hands, “but I figured the shower would make us both feel a little more comfortable, and it helped to…calm me down,” he cleared his throat, and it slowly dawned on you, cheeks burning, “again, are you sure—“

“I’m going to close you off in the bathroom, and we should be able to ride it out — you said you don’t lose control of yourself or become violent,” and he shakes his head, “then it should be fine,” you have him draw closer, his soft steps against the plush carpet fell silent as he sat beside you on the bed. The creak of the bed as he sat on the other side a little awkwardly, “you should be closer,” and he’s nodding, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“I know, I’m just trying to…prepare,” he gives a shaky sigh, “your scent is—“ he scrubs a hand down his face, “it’s hard for me to be around, especially when we’re so close,”

“My scent?” And his hand covers the bottom half of his face, turned away, as he murmurs.

“Your scent is particularly strong — it’s…enticing enough for me to be distracted all day if I don't keep my distance,” and the pieces sink into place.

“You avoided me at work because of that?” And he nods, as you bite your lip, a small chuckle on your lips, “I thought you hated me,”

And his head snaps to you, blinking, “I don’t hate you far from it—“ he cuts himself off, his fingers grip the edge of the bed, “I’ve seen you in the office — you’re always so considerate, kind, and you always try to help, even people who don’t deserve it—“ he cuts off, “I don’t want to take advantage of your—“

You move closer, his breath hitching as you shrug your robe off your shoulders, leaving only your bra covering your chest, “You do deserve it,” Fuck, he was so close — you could feel the need come off of him in waves, the soft pants of his breath as his eyes fluttered. And you offer your neck to him, brushing your hair away — a silent offer.

You see him bite his lip out of your periphery, but he’s leaning down, warm breath fans across your skin, as he ran a finger down your neck, “Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a raspy whisper, “you smell so good,” and you nearly shiver as his lips brush your skin — soft lips against your skin, the barest brush, as if he’s trying to acclimate you to his touch. But it only stoked a fire — the same flame burning even before today, the one that wanted more than a bite at the apple — you wanted him down to his core.

His lips press another kiss to your neck, lingering longer, as he noses the skin there, and you’re biting your lip, the want bubbling into boiling need, “Please—“ you gasp as his fangs graze your neck now, the sharp points lightly dragging across the muscle, right before his fangs sink into your neck.

Your lips part, head nearly lolling back into his warm palm cupping the nape of your neck. Any pain only registers for a split second before disappearing under whitehot pleasure. Your blood turns to heady wine straight from his bite, his muffled moan vibrates against you, sending a wave of heat right between your thighs. Your head spins, all logic melts with as the wildfire only consumes — leaving only want behind.

Coherent thoughts don’t form — instead fractured thoughts spiral into a chant. You want more. You want more of his touch, his body, his words. You want him.

You want him.

And when he’s pulling his fangs from your neck, the sound of his teeth pulled from your skin only rings in your ears for a moment, before blood roaring in your ears replaces it. Burning — it felt as if every part of your body was aching, a deep throbbing with no end in sight. You glance at Choso — and only one cure.

Fuck, his skin looks so lovely when flushed a pretty pink — nearly a scarlet that lit a trail up his neck and across his cheekbones all the way to his ears. The heavy pants that left his lips did little to assuage the desire for him — his defined chest rising and falling with each breath he took, his long jet black locks hanging like a curtain around his gaze.

Your fingers are reaching for him, “Cho—“ and he’s shaking his head, as his muscles tense, as he leans away from you.

“Give me a moment,” so you do — you pull back, and he’s rising to his feet, shaky still, but seemingly for a different reason as he turns and flashes the rising tent in his boxers.

And you press your thighs together, wondering just how big he was — eyes fixed on the growing damp spot on his boxers — how he would shiver when you squee3/ him at the base in your hand, what sounds he would make when you’d flick your tongue against his weeping tip, and how he would moan your name when he sunk into you—

You were so fucked — if your drenched panties were anything to judge by.

“Choso, please—“ and he already knows what you’re asking for between the lines of your plea, and his eyes find yours, his dark gaze catches yours, ensnared in the blackhole that only pulls you under and apart, pinned underneath him.

“It’s just the bite, we can’t,” he’s covering his lips, as he takes steps away from you, towards the bathroom, “we just have to wait until it passes. It won’t take too long—”

“What if it’s not just your bite? Not for me,” you murmur, and the words are being spilled from your lips like honeyed truth with no bitter aftertaste, “it hasn’t been for me,” his brow is furrowing as if he can’t imagine a single person liking him, “I’ve spent the last year working with you and all i know is I wanted nothing more than to be the one you smile at — the same soft way you do when you your little brother visits you at work,”

And he’s swallowing, a deeper blush on his cheeks, “you noticed?”

“I also noticed how you always bring the person you work with their favorite coffee order, the way you try to make others feel valued when the company doesn’t even do it, and how you always do your best — even when it comes at your own expense,” it’s so easy to say these things, but it only makes you long for him more, “let me do more — let me take care of you—“

And he’s covering his mouth with his forearm, “do you know what you’re saying?” you slowly get up from the bed, taking careful steps towards him, “our heads are clouded, we aren’t—“ and he swears under his breath but he doesn’t resist your approach, the bathroom door right behind him, “I don’t want to hurt you—“

“Do you feel the same for me?” and his gaze softens as he meets yours, “because I get the feeling you do — at least you like my scent,” a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, “hopefully not just my scent?”

And you didn’t know it was possible for a vampire to be this pink in the face, but Choso was — and you weren’t sure if it was your words or your closeness, “It’s not just your scent,” he’s mumbling against his arm until he’s pulling it away, to reveal his lips colored a faint scarlet from your blood, “I have feelings for you — I have for a while,”

God, he was fun to tease, “What’s a while?” you’re murmuring, his lips part, flashing his fangs while he does. His eyes avert from your face, only to land on your neck, grazing over the bite mark he left, and you decide to spare him, “but if it’s been a while for you and for me, then—” he’s shivering again, a sigh caught in his throat, muscles tensed as if he was a tiger ready to pounce.

“It’ll be hard to stop once we start — we should think—“ your fingertips brush his cheek, his eyes falling shut at your touch, the want inside you only grew, as you felt him lean into you.

“Who said we’re going to stop?” and he breaks, his hand is sliding around your waist, tugging you closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his words nearly muttered against it.

“Are you sure?”

“I am—” and that’s all he needed.

In a flash you’re pinned on the bed, blinking as you glance at the spinning ceiling fan for a moment before he’s leaning over you.

His eyes are tinted with red and laced with desperation, fangs flashing as his fingers cup your chin and he leans down, “I’ll show you how much I like you, pretty girl.”

“Oh, Cho-so,” your arms are wrapped around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer, his hot tongue dragging up the side of your neck, licking at the rivers of blood dripping down, “fuck, please—“

“Can’t waste a single drop, not when you taste so good,” he’s murmuring, nearly hypnotized by your taste — his sticky saliva and your blood mixed together, “fuck, I could kiss every inch of you and it wouldn’t be enough,”

“Please, I need more,” and he’s chuckling, nibbling at the base of your neck, a whine parting your lips that made him nearly bust a nut then and there, “please—“

And his lips find yours in a searing kiss, fangs lightly biting your bottom lip, swallowing your gasps with a smirk, and how is it possible your lips are even sweeter? It was as if you were made of molasses, and he was more than happy to indulge. He parts your lips, dragging a thumb down your kiss bitten lips, your saliva clinging to his skin.

“You know how long I wanted this? Had to touch myself in the shower to stop myself from pinning you the moment we entered the room,” he murmurs, recalling how his fingers had reached for his cock, already nearly covered in pre, his thumb running across his slit was nearly enough to make him burst. But it paled in comparison to the sight of you, disheveled under him, eyes glazed over with pleasure, chest rising and falling fast, and your lips nearly begging him to kiss you again and again, “and now I want to take my time, love,” but he doesn’t, instead he bends down again, to nip and suck marks all over your skin, savoring the drops of blood he steals from each one — a constellation dotting your neck and collarbone to remind anyone that you were his. And his fingers find yours, just as he was yours.

And you whimper, as he kisses his way down your arm, sweet pecks dotting down, until he reaches your wrist. He noses it, feeling the rush of your pulse underneath your skin, the sweet scent of your blood clouded his mind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, as he flashes a gaze upward for your silent permission. You nod.

Your nod was all he needed, before his fangs sinks into your wrist. It was potent — you were potent rather — he had grown used to his normal supply of blood, blood that he had acquired through the proper channels, and though it quenched his thirst, it never satisfied it.

You were more than satisfaction itself — you were ecstasy incarnate, and he was utterly addicted from the moment he had his lips pressed against your lovely skin. Scarlet dripped from the bite and the corners of his mouth — the blood flooded his mouth, an unending pool of need that only grew with each second.

And as he pulled away, blood dripping from his lips, he watched your eyes flutter open, legs spread for him, as he licked his lips clean.

“Such a waste to let even a single drop go,” he drags his tongue up the rivulets of blood that ran down your wrist, and a whimper escapes your lips, and his lips curl, “what do you want, love? Tell me,”

And you’re biting your lip, averting your gaze, but he’s guiding it back to his, “Choso, please, I need you to touch me,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning, “please—“

He pulls your hand away, and kisses your lips again in a bruising kiss, before he’s pressing sweet kisses down your body, easing the straps of your bra down. He kisses the swell of your breasts, one after the other, making you squirm in place.

“Pretty girl,” he’s murmuring, his lips kissing each one of your erect nipples, caught in a thick haze of lust, “so good for me,” and he’s lighting a trail of kisses down your body, and he’s resisting the urge to mark up every inch of you — no, there would be time for that later, his eyes flicking up to meet your half lidded gaze, “gonna be good for me?” His skillful fingers slide under the elastic of your panties, snapping the fabric against you, making you gasp, “either way, I might just eat you up,”

A shaky chuckle escapes your lips, “Promise?” And he chuckles, as he’s spreading your lips, leaning down to press a hot kiss to your inner thigh.

“Be careful what you wish for,” his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, before running over the mark with his tongue, before his fingers are running over your drenched panties, and it takes everything in him not to sink his fangs into your plush thigh, but no — he’s carefully tugging down your underwear down your legs — he had to stay focused.

His breath catches at the sight of your dripping cunt and swollen clit, glistening with your juices that told him just how much you wanted this — and it was enough to nearly have him cumming in his boxers. And then the sweet scent of your precum becomes too much for him—

And he can’t wait.

His tongue flicks against your clit, making a squeal escape your lips, fingers finding purchase in the long strands. It’s too good — judging by the way your hips nearly rut into his lips, while your own moans his name. But it was even better for him, as he groans against your pussy, licking the pre sticking to his lips.

“How do you taste so good? Sweetest thing I’ve tasted, as good as every part of you,”

You gasp when his fingers spread your folds, “Cho—“ and he’s circling a tip of one of his lithe fingers around your entrance teasingly.

He hums lightly, “Can’t decide whether I want to use my fingers or my mouth, love,” he murmurs in contemplation, whilst his tongue teases your needy clit, “what do you think, baby?”

“I need you—anything—“ and he’s licking a stripe up your sweet pussy, before he’s sinking a finger into your fluttering walls, “Choso—fuck—“ and the wet squelch of your cunt and the feel of your fluttering walls around his digit makes his dick twitch in his boxers, “s’good,”

And you’re melting into his touch, your juices soaking his fingers and wrist as he fucks you with his finger, knuckle deep in your warm walls, rubbing at your clit with his thumb.

And you’re so sensitive, every move of his finger has your walls squeezing him tight, his other hand sneaking into his boxers to palm at his erection, “Cho, I need more—“ and he’s adding a second finger to the first, fucking you deep until he finds that spot — and that’s enough for you to fall apart.

You cum, back arching as you do, stars bursting behind closed eyes, as you moan his name. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around his fingers, thighs tensing around his hand. You come down from your high, chest nearly heaving from your pants, as he eases his fingers from your pussy. A soft sigh leaving your throat as your cunt flutters around nothing.

Your eyes flutter open to see Choso licking his fingers clean — still sticky with your release — fangs flashing with the part of his lips, and you shiver at the sight. He’s leaning back down, pressing kisses to your thighs, before his tongue drags up your leaking pussy, making you gasp.

“Please, Choso—fuck—“ and he’s smirking, glancing up with lips glossy with your release, placing a chaste kiss to your puffy clit, your eyes falling to his hand palming his boxers, “let me touch you—“

“Not yet, baby,” his tongue circles your slit, circles growing faster before sinking into your insides, nose bumping against your swollen clit, as he laps at your messy slit, “not until I’ve swallows every drop of you,” his fangs pinch at your clit.

It’s already too much for you — your second orgasm sneaks up on you — a coil wound tight as he slurps and sucks at your cunt, all too eager to taste every last drop. And oh, he does — until he uses his thumb to rub at your clit, and it’s too much—

You squirt all over his face, soaking his face and fingers with your release, his lips more than eager to lap up every drop of it. Even as he pulls away, your cum is dripping down his chin, his dark eyes lidded as he looks up at you.

And he can’t wait anymore—he needs to sink his dick into you. He’s licking his chin clean, pussydrunk on your cum, as he smashes lips to yours. Your moan is stifled as you taste yourself on his lips, tongue sneaking into your mouth as you part them for him. You hear the shift of the sheets as he tugs his boxers down, pulling his lips away only to finish kicking them off.

But that’s not what you were looking at.

Fuck, he was huge — his engorged tip was a deep red, large pearly beads of precum dripping down, while the rest of him was flushed a lovely pink. The veins that went along his length made gou tempted to trace them, mapping out his cock until you remembered every inch. You were hypnotized as your fingers reached for him, thumb flicking against his slit, before grasping at his base.

He gasps, head lolling back, as you spread the pre along his length, beginning to pump him, “Fuck, so good for me, baby,” he’s covering his lips, cheeks flushed to match his cock, “please, I won’t last—“ and he nearly blows his load when your mouth sucks at the tip, before sliding his dick past your lips. your tongue tracing along the veins.

And a whine leaves his throat, as you start to bob along his length, spit and precum dripping down the corners of your mouth as you messily sucked at him. His hips jerk, as his fingers thread into your hair, tip brushing against his throat, it’s almost too much.

He’s easing you off his cock with a tug of your hair, your lips parting with a pop, strings of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. And god, he wants nothing more then to pump his cock and let him spill all over your face.

But no, no, he rather spill inside you.

In an instant he’s gotten you onto your back, the head of his cock brushing against your dripping cunt. He’s dragging the head of his dick against your dripping folds teasingly, making you squirm.

“Please,” you’re whining, drawing a soft chuckle from him, as he’s lining himself up, groaning in unison as his tip bumps against your slit, “fuck, Choso, I need you—“

And he obliges, sinking into you inch by inch, a grunt from his mouth, “Already trying to swallow me whole, love? No need for that — I’m already giving it to you,” the delicious stretch of your warm walls pull him in deeper, stretching as he works himself inside your cunt, “so tight, baby,” and he’s finally bottoming out — cock twitching against your sweet cunt.

He’s reaching places you didn’t think were possible, his

You were far too tempting, “Please, Cho, please move—“ your words cut off with a gasp as his lips against your neck again, fangs piercing your skin as he bites you, right as he starts to slowly fuck into you.

White hot pleasure rips up your spine — the bite and the way his cock fucks you enough for you to already cum around him, your mouth parted in moans, as your walls clamp down on him. He’s sucking greedily at your blood, and he wasn’t sure what was better, the way your sweet blood tasted against his tongue, or the way your release squelched around his dick, as he fucked it. And he barely registers that his cock is growing larger against your spasming pussy, but you sure do, as you moan his name.

“S’big, Choso, too big,” you’re whining, as his hand presses against your lower half only to feel a slight bulge, and he only makes him want to thrust harder, too far gone to think — only one thought circling the drain of his pin sized perspective — that he wanted to fill you up,

“Cho-so, please—“ and he doesn’t know what you’re asking him, to slow down or to go faster, as he pulls his fangs from you. And he could cum just looking at you — your forehead slick with sweat, while scarlet rivulets of your blood ran down the side of your neck, eyes blown out in such lust — and everything about your body begging him to fuck you more.

“S’pretty for me, baby,” as he fucks you through your orgasm, another building in its place, as he watches his cock piston in and out of your fluttering cunt. And it feels too fucking good. And he’s leaning back down to lick up the blood staining your neck, as he gives a particular hard thrust that has you seeing stars, and he knows you’re close—and he knows he won’t last much longer — not with the way your vice grip cunt is squeezing around him.

But you’re confirming it with your moans, filling his ears along with the lewd noises of skin slapping together, “I’m close—I’m—“ and he’s grunting in agreement, as his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, only to pull a breath away to ask:

“Where?” And the flutter of your walls that pulls him impossibly deeper tells him the answer, but you reply with words as well.

“Inside, please, need to feel you fill me—“ you cum then and there, words cut off with a moan of his name, and he’s fucking you through your orgasm. His thrusts stutter as he grows close, before groaning and pressing another kiss to your lips, biting your bottom lip to draw blood, as he spills inside you, painting your insides with his hot release, fucking it inside you as his hips slow.

He’s pulling away from your lips, pulling himself from inside you, a soft gasp leaving your lips, as he moans himself when he watches his seed mixed with your cum slip from your pussy.

He’s caressing you, pressing sweet kisses to your face and neck, your quiet pants filling his ears like a metronome.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter open, lips curling slightly as you nod, a sigh on your lips.

“I’m more than okay,” you press your lips to his again, a sweet kiss that grows more insistent as your tongue drags against the seam of his lips, before you hear a wet squelch, and your eyes open darting down to only find him stroking his cock, “Choso, are you—“

“Mm, the effect of your blood hasn’t quite subsided for me,” he murmurs, “but I think I can take care of it with—“ and he’s flipped onto his back, eyes blinking up as you, sitting on top of him.

And he sees the blatant want in your gaze, as you begin to lower yourself onto his dick, a smile pulling at your lips, as your lust pulled him under and his cock inside you.

“I told you I’d take care of you, Choso,” and you offer your neck to him again, dragging your wrist across his face, “so let me.”

“You’ll be working with Choso again on this project,” you have to bite back your smile, when you nod, “the two of you did a good job on the last one. Thank you for the overtime you put in. It did not go unnoticed,”

“No problem, sir, anything for the job,” and your supervisor smiles, as you turn to leave, “I’m sure Choso would say the same,”

“The two of you make a good team. I may pair you two together more often. Is that okay? I’ll have to run it by Choso, of course,” and you nod, hand already on the door knob.

“I’m sure he would be more than okay with that, sir.”

“Ah, baby, please just one bite?” Choso’s got you pressed up against the conference room door, “spending all day at work with you makes me so needy,” he mumbles against your skin, as he’s already unbuttoning your button up, the shirt already creased with he’s tugging it free from your slacks, “please,”

“Cho, you had one this morning, it’s barely lunchtime, and you’re this desperate—” and he’s grinding his tenting erection against your clothed cunt, and your hand barely is able to make it in time to stifle your moan with your fingers, “fuck, fine, one bite, but don’t make a mess, this is a white blouse, babe—”

He’s already tugging down your shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle, as his red tinted gaze meets yours in the shaded drawn window of the conference door. And now you were sure — your coworker loved you, even when you thought he didn’t.

“Don’t worry, love, I won’t spill a drop.”

✧ a/n: this fic was weirdly hard to write. i was very stuck for a while. i couldn't figure out how to write it even though the idea struck me. but i hope you all enjoy <3 thank you for @laneysmusings and @gaylatteart for betaing and being the best moral support <3

✧ taglist: @yourwaifuhatesyou, @cira273, @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @whereismysane, @kaedeolgy, @keirangoldenwatch, @indieotterxoxo, @mua-for-now, @b3llair3, @evieslook, @shervinss, @saltymeow77, @svt-backup, @dazailover1900, @kentocalls, @yamaguccitadashi, @simply-a-s1mp, @rita-ritarita, @gorepain, @jupisloveletterz, @ice-echo26, @lemonpoppy-seed, @turtletaubwrites, @complexivelovely, @tiramatsumu, @strangehuman101, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @adrenova, @chosoitos, @stonecoldsensitive, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunamatic, @maetziniscool, @muichirosbestie, @monstrousbuu, @spider-fan72, @nakariabnrb, @petalshxwer, @talkativetranscendant, @fairyxgothic, @jupisloveletterz, @crystalkat6747, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @hotcocokiss, @angstigone, @sunnykento, @dantaku

#sab [mlist]#choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo fanfiction #choso smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso kamo x you #choso kamo fluff #vampire choso #jjk x you #jjk choxo x reader #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut

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xiaq · 6 months ago

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I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.

Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.

Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.

Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).

After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.

Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.

The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.

So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:

"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."

And:

"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.

"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"

"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."

"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."

The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.

Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.

#someone write this please #steddie #steve/eddie #eddie/steve #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #stranger things

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ozzgin · 3 months ago

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Featuring some of the recurring AUs for an easier reading.

Monster Harem Series

Yandere!Monsters x Heartbreaker!Fem!Reader

Breeding kink

Public Property Reader

Monster Daddies Reality Show

You're not the father! [Doodle]

Sleepover [Doodle]

Breeding kink [Doodle]

Stuffed toy jealousy [Doodle]

Tentacle House Monster Series

Yandere!House Monster x GN!Reader

Yandere!House Monster x GN!Reader 2

Plumber x Reader x House Monster

House Monster Encounter [Doodle]

Caught in the act [Doodle]

Reader with poor eyesight [Doodle]

Monster Streaming Series

Streaming to Monsters (GN Reader)

Streaming to Monsters (GN Reader) Part 2

Slime viewer vore

Human streamer receiving gifts

Monster Streaming Followers

Yan!Monster viewers

HornyMantis and boobs

Followers reacting to gaming Reader

Adult gifts from your followers

Meet and Greet with your followers

Shark Loan Shark crossover

Biggest toy achievement [Doodle]

Gangbang Milestone [Doodle]

Trying on clothes [Doodle]

Chameleon viewer [Doodle]

Shark Loan Shark Cameo

Flashing HornyMantis

Monster Dating Show Crossover

Monster Hotel Series

Monster Hotel (GN Reader)

Monster Hotel Breakfast

Monster Hotel Menu

Monster Hotel Door Sign

Monster Hotel Residents: Slime Monster

Toby and metaphorical speech

Thanksgiving Special

Monster Hotel Staff: Toby the Gardener [Doodles]

Toby with succulents [Doodle]

Toby learning sign language [Doodle]

Proposing to Toby [Doodle]

Toby and Gossip [Doodle]

Room Service Reader [Doodle]

Slime Girl Suggestive [Doodle]

Slime Guest stuck in your shower [Doodle]

Rent-A-Monster Series

Idea: Rent-A-Monster

Idea: Service Vampire

Service Vampire drinking your blood

Emotional Support Monster

Monster Tutor

Service Werewolf

Service Werewolf helping you sleep

Krampus Christmas Special

Walking home [Doodle]

Needy Werewolf [Doodle]

Human Adoption Agency Series

Human Adoption Agency Origins

Seamster Monster Owner

Pastry Chef Monster Owner

Rent-A-Monster Crossover

Monster Roommates Series

Short: Monster Roommates (GN Reader)

Monster!Reader with monster fucker roommates

Cultural Differences

Morning Rituals

Monster Husband Series

Monster Marriage (GN Reader)

Monster Marriage (GN Reader) Sequel

Monster Marriage: Work Distractions (smut)

Monster Husband Honeymoon

Monster Dating Show

Monster Dating Show: The Official Cast

MDS with a hoe Reader

Mr. Host in despair

Interview Snipped [Doodle]

Monster Dating Show: The Rejects [Doodle]

Host Design [Doodle]

Consequences [Doodle]

More Monsters

Complete list here

More Doodles

Complete list here

#monster masterlist #monster x reader #monster x human

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months ago

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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

(This one ran away with me, whoops)

Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨

This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.

Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.

And go to his DMs.

And send him a GIF.

Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.

"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.

Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅

Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑

Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess

Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass

Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.

Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?

Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-

(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)

-a little more human-shaped.

Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉

Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!

They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.

He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.

Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.

He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.

Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.

Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.

Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???

Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:

@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island

@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #brainworm #wiggly Wednesday #hype's wiggly Wednesday #hype's brainworms

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 3 months ago

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Misunderstanding Vampire Danny

Things to add to story line thing I don’t really know what to call the stuff I write at this point

Danny and Vlad (With fetuses Dani and Dan or in this their new names are Eleanor and Jordan) have to leave their OG universe because the GIW and The Fenton parents with them almost killing Eleanor and Jordan so Danny and Vlad had to dip

Danny and Vlad end up in the DC universe where this is where the main misunderstanding is from the ecto from the DP world looks red like blood red in the DC universe, anyway Vlad is doing his usual shady business man things and moves them all to Gotham to be exact the manner closest to the Wayne manner so in classic Batfam fashion they go to greet (investigate) the new neighbors

So Bruce and Tim go to greet the new neighbors they meet vlad who is 100% a vampire (your so close) but before they can ask him to many questions vlad shuts the door and says goodbye and to the Batfam this is very suspicious behavior

And a few days after vlad and Danny move in while the just vlad to everyone else vlad has to go on a work trip to metropolis and leaves that same night Danny decides to go outside to get some fresh air but that the same time Damien decides to go outside as well and they meet to Damien it looks like Vlad has been keeping a halfing vampire and got him pregnant who is the same age as him that is 13 and to Danny he just sees a potential new friend so they talk and Damian misunderstands literally everything Danny says about his home life and his relationship Vlad

Before Damien leaves to go tell the rest of his family so they can do something about it Danny ask Damian to come and talk to him again

And that’s all for the main plot of this now on to the little things of this

Danny has bandages around his neck from the GIW or Bad Fenton reveal so it gives more to the vampire misunderstanding

Danny only goes out that night because vlad gets a bit overprotective when Danny’s outside during the day

Danny is wearing a nightgown because he’s a bad ass bitch like that (and because I want more fic of Danny in a dress and if you want to see what I’m thinking for the nightgown just look at the OG post there are pics of it)

Danny has very long white hair that looks like it’s never been cut

Vlad’s business trip is to go overshadow and scam Lex Luther

Vlad got overprotective of Danny because his obsession switched with Maddie to Danny (not romantically that’s just the Batfam misunderstanding)

Danny looks mysterious af when he and Damian meet

Heyy probably will add more when I feel like it byeee

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lovebugism · 10 months ago

Note

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old.

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme.

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question.

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand.

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time.

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls.

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s.

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment.

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.”

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you.

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile.

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind.

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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luvsupa · 3 months ago

Text

tags: neighbour!nanami x fem!reader, fluff-ish, crack, reader is in mid 20s and nanami is mid 30s, readers obsessed with nanami w.c: 800

you peek through the blinds in your living room, squinting for a better view of your neighbour. a frown crosses your face as you notice a gathering of children and mothers around his front door, which is beautifully decorated for halloween. you watch as the mothers twirl their hair and giggle in unison, but you still can’t see what your neighbour is wearing. you feel like a creep, lurking behind the blinds just to catch a glimpse of the new guy.

your heart races when you finally spot nanami. damn, he looks incredible in his costume—a vampire. you’ve heard whispers about the mysterious man who just moved in, and even the married women have been known to stand outside early in the morning just to greet him.

“do i seriously have to dress up?” you retreat from the window as you hear your nephew whine while entering the living room. you burst into laughter at the sight of him squeezing into the ghostbusters costume he wore a few years ago- the sleeves barely reach his wrists.

“well, yes!” you reply, snapping photos of him as he glares with frustration. in one picture, he slightly raises his middle finger, and you gasp, realizing he’s picking up on your habits. oops.

“i’m too old for trick ‘r treating! i don’t even wanna stay here,” he grumbles, his temper flaring as you giggle at the photos and send them to your sister, his mom, just as he threatens to rip off the costume.

“can you just behave? i’m trying to meet the love of my life,” you say, putting your phone away to prevent him from ruining your plans.

“he doesn’t even know you exist, dummy.” your jaw drops at his bluntness, and he starts pointing at you, laughing like a little brat.

“tch, you’re laughing a bit too much for someone who lost his girlfriend to a stuffed animal,” you retort, laughter spilling from your lips as he shoots you a ‘really’ look.

“at least i was in a relationship! dunno about you, hag,” he fires back, leaving you choking on a laugh. seriously, who’s teaching this kid all this at twelve years old?

you don’t say anything as you pull him toward the front door, making him put on his shoes and grab his trick or treat bag before stepping outside. your gaze is fixed on nanami’s house, now swarming with kids and mothers.

i know why you mothers are here…

“ow, let go!” your nephew winces, pushing your hand away from his shoulder as you realize you’ve been gripping him too tightly. you both end up in a long line in front of his house because these mothers won’t leave! impatience gnaws at you- you just want a chance to see him.

finally, you reach the front of the line, and you scold your nephew to behave before giving him a gentle push toward the door.

“trick or treat.” he says in an unenthusiastic tone, while you stand behind him, practically buzzing with excitement. nanami steps outside with a fresh batch of candy, smiling at your nephew’s costume. when his hazel eyes shift to yours, your breath hitches.

he definitely wants me.

“your son is so adorable,” he says.

what?

oh hell no.

“son? n-no, he’s my nephew! he was dying to come to your house,” you stammer, and he chuckles, revealing his fake fangs.

“what? you forced me—” your nephew starts, but you quickly cover his mouth to prevent him from ruining everything, sharing a warm chuckle with nanami as you stand awkwardly on his doorstep.

“d-do you have any kids?” you ask, hoping he says no. your heart would shatter if he did.

“ahh, no, i don’t—though i do wish to have a family of my own someday,” he admits, and you nod, intrigued by his almost wistful tone.

“yeaaa, i want a family with you—of my own too!” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words as his smirk widens, and your eyes practically sparkle with embarrassment.

“she stalks you everyday,” your annoying nephew pipes up, and you feel your face heat up as you wish you could disappear. nanami quirks his brows in surprise, bursting into laughter, while you stand frozen, your eyes twitching. seriously, someone needs to watch for this kid.

“heh, she’s not the only one,” he replies, and you swear you must be dreaming. nanami quickly grabs something from inside his house, scribbles on a notepad, and attaches it to your nephew’s bag of candy before handing the candy directly to you.

you’re so starstruck you can’t move as your nephew tugs on your arm, dragging you away while the interaction feels surreal. you walk past the mothers, who scoff at you, and hear him wish the two of you a happy halloween.

you glance down at the notepad he gave you:

I’ll be waiting for your call, stalker

nanami kento

you gasp, noticing his phone number written beneath it. you just bagged the hottest man alive and these mothers didn’t.

“you two are a buncha freaks,” your nephew comments as he pulls you back toward your house. honestly, you don’t care—you’re just so thrilled that you’re the one he chose.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #jjk fluff #jjk crack #kento nanami #divider from @enchanthings

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 3 months ago

Note

ook but Logan x vampire reader 🥺

like a real vampire, like in twilight, you can choose the powers she has, but she somehow comes to X-Men.

I really liked this idea! I might write more for vampire reader ngl 🤭

Request are open! As always thank you for reading and if you enjoy please like, comment and reblog it helps motivate me to keep posting on here <3

Logan never liked meeting the new recruits. He thought it was a waste of time, if they even made it far enough to be an actual teammate they never lasted long so why should he go out of his way to learn the new guys name?

Scott told him that a newbie was coming in the morning and said something about super strength and speed, but there was something off about them, so he was warned to be careful and to play nice. Logan rolled his eyes and told him that if he was even awake by the time the newbie got to the mansion, he might stop by to say hi.

Everyone was surprised to see Logan actually there for the morning meeting. He couldn't really tell you why he was there he just had a feeling he should meet this new recruit, and God was he glad he actually showed up for a meeting.

When you walked in, it was like time stopped. If he hadn't known that your powers were super speed and strength, he would've thought you could control time. He was just in awe with your beauty, and then he snapped out of it quickly when he witnessed you break Colossus hand. 'holy shit!' His eyes widened, and he quickly looked between you and the broken hand. Now he's in awe for a whole other reason.

He tried to say something but he was at a lost for words "I... Logan," he cleared his throat and tried to speak again."I'm Logan," he says, sounding completely love sick as he gets up to greet you next. You flashed him a smile, showing of your fangs thinking it'd make him back off, but you, what didn't realize or expect, was that it only made him fall faster for you.

You're a vampire thats what "off" with you... you're immortal....you're indestructible. Fuck he was in love.

Logan had experience with vampires before. You don't live as long as he has and not run into some supernatural beings every once in a while. He knew all about the charm, the lust, the hunger that your species acquired as they aged, he knew that vampires tend to gain control of their needs as they age but their needs tend to grow stronger as their control strengthens. So when he found out you were around 115 years old, he knew you must've acquired a lot of those qualities that he was hoping you had. He just had to hope he could convince you to come to him for help when you started to lose control. He really hoped you'd lose control.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

#logan howlett smut #logan x reader #logan wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlet smut #wolverine smut #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #xmen #vampire reader #female reader #logan howlett x gn reader #wolverine x female reader #male reader #logan howlett xmen #hugh jackman

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havithreatendub4 · 1 month ago

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#Hollywood Vampires #tour #Sparkassenpark #Monchengladbach #Germany #June 14, 2018 #meet & greet #fans #backstage

#2018 #2018 tour #Hollywood Vampires #tour #Germany #meet & greet #fans #backstage #june 2018

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whereserpentswalk · 3 months ago

Text

Reblog to go on a date with your monster. Like to give them a little gift.

Look under the cut to see what meeting your joyfriend is like.

1 you walk into a messy apartment, it looks like this is their first place where they live alone, away from other angels. They're sitting on a Lome mattress, cuddling a stuffed animal and watching TV. Despite everything they're still beautiful, their body youthful, and sexless, and athletic, their four white wings forever stained with blood. They look up at you with rose gold eyes, afraid, apologizing for if they scared you. But to their surprise you don't shy away from them, and somehow they feel safe and pure when you sit down to talk to them.

2 you see them in the shadows, alone in the dark of an empty park, changing shape, first a muscular humanoid in armor, then a wolf dancing through the night, then a combination of both, then finally a modern human in a ragged trenchcoat. Despite all their forms, their eyes are always the same. They come up to you and bow with a smile on their face. You slowly aproch them, for whatever reason their voice seems so familiar. You greet them with your hand as you would an animal, even as they're in human form, as you slowly pet their scars for the first time.

3 within the golden halls of an ornate train station you see them for the first time, through the crowd with inhumanly green eyes. They notice you despite everyone else. And you notice everything off about them, the wrong numbers of teeth, their hands occasionally having more or less then five fingers before returning back to normal. It's wordless but it doesn't need words for you to tell them that they don't need to pretend to be human around you. And for a momment you see them, naked, with branches for antlers, and the wings of a monarch butterfly, a serpent's head where a human’s genitals would be, and teeth made out of broken glass, and then only a rose exists where they once stood, but you know you'll see them again.

4 you see them for the first time in an empty parking lot, a massive creature with black eyes and countless legs, glowing yet dark, as they come twords you they take notes in an unknowable language. They inspect you as the dark matter pitter patters across your face. You expect them to hurt you as they reach out their claw but they only gently pet your head. You can tell that they're suprised, you're more receptive then most humans are. They give you a small peice of food to let you eat right from their claw, and it tastes batter then anything on earth.

5 you meet them in a café on a quiet side street. They don't like being seen by too many people. Their body is beautiful, but so inhuman, tall and slender, with silvery armor covering them from the neak down, their face pale and their eyes long since ripped out and replaced with red mechanical replacements. They're a bit afraid you won't be ok with them when you first meet them, but you start talking, and though they're shy at first they like the sound of your voice. They let you pet their head and they cuddle up to you, and their body is warm like a churning machine as you hug them for the first time, and they feel comforted in your arms.

6 you see them in a dark subway station. They clearly once were human, centuries ago, their body forever young, but pale and skinny, their eyes turned white and their mouth jawless and fanged like a lampry's. Their body is entirely sexless, barely shielded from the cold by a ragged suit. Most people avoid them, but you ask if they're ok and they just look up at you, when you ask if they're hungry they nod. You agree to give them some blood, and it feels like they're giving you little kisses as you offer them your wrist. When they're full you hug their cold body, and for a momment they're made warm.

7 an undead servent slowly brings them over to you in a wheelchair. Though their mansion is beautiful it's trapped in time, and dark even in the daytime. You can see the computer they're trapped in, it must be decades old by now. They look at you with an avatar meant to look like a drawing of themself, or at least how they'd want to look. Something about them makes you want to touch them, but you know you never can. You put your hand to the screen, and you can feel the magic flow through you, and for a momment that's enough.

8 you see them sitting there alone in a bar. A slender androgynous humanoid, they're wearing a black suit but upon closer examination it's part of their body, never to be taken off. You sit next to them, and they smile at you, you talk for a few moments and it's like they know more about the universe then you could ever imagine. They pet your head, and it feels like it'll kill you, but it only makes you feel more alive. They hand you a business card with their number on it, it says they're a servent of hades, they tell you you can contact them again if you like, they'll be around. When you look again they're entirely gone once more.

9 walking through an abandoned mall you see them, a life sized puppet, with stars and moons on its outfit, and a painted mask for a face. Coming closer to them you can see there's red liquid on them, and strange otherworldly bugs and mushrooms on their body. When you try to touch them they float in the air, and move as if they're alive, for a momment you think they'll hurt you but they run away. When you find them again, tracking them down to a dark arcade, you see they're crying. They expect you to hurt them but you reach out to help them instead, nobody's ever tried to help them like that before...

10 you see them ontop of a skyscraper's roof. They youthful human wearing a leather jacket smiling as a massive reptile, with bat like wings, and massive steel fangs, and a tail like a scorpion's flies down to them. You wonder if they'll try to calm it but instead they move together like one being, their eyes the same yellow color. The creature comes twords you, fire in its mouth, and poison in its teeth. You realize the two beings are one in the same, as the wyvern bows its head, ready for you to ride it, with its human body at your side.

11 for a momment they chase you through the night, the hooded masked figure running twords you, blade in hand. But as you cross the street they can't follow, it's as if they've hit a wall. The gods themselves have bound them. While you're in safety you look at them, there's a sadness behind that mask. You wonder, if they can't hurt you here, would there be any reason to hate them, would they choose to spare you if they knew your face, your voice...

12 all you can see is blackness, yet there is no darkness, only this slick metallic liquid around you. The lake bubbles up creating a false body with its fluid, first male, then female, then both, then neither. It beckons you in, and you know it would not let you drown. When you step inside all you can feel, all you can see, is the fluid around you, and you feel as if you're being held.

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obsessedwhyyes · 4 months ago

Text

Beneath the Blood and Starlight

Summary: Awoken from a nightmare, you seek a moment of reprieve down by the river, only to find your mysterious vampire companion - covered in blood. As you help him with his mess, you realise that perhaps there's more to his rakish, teasing façade: a vulnerability that you had not anticipated. A moment of intimacy ensues.

Rating: T Word Count: 3096 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: Act 1, pre-romance, fluff, early bonding, non-sexual intimacy, flirting, feral cat Astarion. Warning: Starts with a nightmare sequence featuring depictions of ceremorphosis, in case that's an issue.

A/N: What was meant to be a cute, fluffy little drabble grew arms and legs and turned into several thousand words. I wanted to explore some non-sexual intimacy, in the context of Act 1 where everyone is still learning about each other, so here we have some typical Act 1 Astarion flirting, some banter, and some exploration of Astarion - the person, rather than the vampire spawn.

It was a night like any other.

The campfire warmed the faces of the merry band of travelling companions you had accrued throughout the course of your journey. The strangest bedfellows one could ever imagine, but amidst the chaos of your journey up to now, the sound of laughter was a joyous reprieve; a rare moment of peace.

Your gaze was drawn inexorably to Astarion who sat across from you. Firelight danced across his pale skin as you watched him, and he caught your eye then. A mischievous smile played at the corners of his mouth and your heart fluttered, just a little.

“Darling,” he purred, raising a finger to point to you, “you’re bleeding.”

You were?

Your hand reached for your face, feeling a slickness trickling from your nose. Strange. You hadn’t noticed any pain.

Suddenly, the firelight seemed too bright, the laughter too loud.

Something was wrong.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your body was wracked instead with a fit of coughs. You could not breathe.

You doubled over, and an ache spread throughout your jaw - a pain unlike anything you had ever experienced. Your innards felt ready to burst out of you.

“Are you alright?” Astarion’s voice was tinged with an uncharacteristic concern. Moving quickly to your side, his cool hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. But as your eyes met his, you recoiled in horror.

A mindflayer.

Where Astarion’s once beautiful face had been, you were greeted with orange eyes, burning with malice, sharp teeth like cut glass within a tentacled maw, and slickened, wet skin. Yet, his voice remained the same, teasing and rakish - a jarring contrast that set your heart pounding, limbs begging you to flee.

You tried to scream, but your jaw felt wrong. It cracked, a sickening sound that reverberated through your skull. The pain was excruciating, blinding. Something writhing and slick attempted to push its way out of your throat and you choked.

Astarion-Not-Astarion’s hand, still cool against your feverish skin, stroked your cheek almost tenderly. “That’s it,” he cooed, his voice a twisted parody of his usual flirtatious drawls, “embrace the change.”

You looked around wildly. All of your companions had transformed, their familiar faces replaced by disgusting, terrifying… No, beautiful, evolved, magnificent alien features.

“Change,” they chanted. “Change. Change…”

You bolted upright, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. Cold sweat drenched your skin as you wildly scanned your surroundings. The familiar sight of your tent came into focus.

Your heart pounded in your chest as realisation set in. A dream. It was a dream.

It was a night like any other.

And that was precisely the problem.

Sleep, you decided, was no longer an option.

There was a river in the woods nearby and you were in desperate need to cleanse yourself of the sweat which clung to your still shivering body. Or rather, you needed something, anything to distract yourself. And so, packing washcloths, you left the confines of your tent and snuck away into the woodlands.

–

The sound of running water called to you, a moment of solace drawing nearer. Or so you thought, until a familiar figure came into view.

It was Astarion, sitting by the river's edge, moonlight gleaming across his pale… Bare skin.

Assuming you'd stumbled in on something you shouldn't have, you averted your gaze hastily, a blush crawling up your neck. “A-ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude!”

“It's just my shirt, darling. No need for such modesty.” Astarion’s voice carried a hint of amusement, clearly privy to your embarrassment.

A moment passed as you attempted to recompose yourself. Looking up, he was indeed just shirtless.

Thank the gods for that.

As you drew closer to him, you noticed the blood smeared across his face - evidence of a recent hunt.

Truth be told, he was a bit of a mess. Crimson streaks painted his cheeks and chin, with a particularly gruesome splatter across his left temple. Some of it had begun to dry, flaking at the edges. It was a stark, almost beautiful contrast against his pale skin - a reminder of the predator that lurked beneath his charming exterior.

You sat across from him, trying to ignore the way the moonlight played across his bare chest.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Out for a midnight stroll or were you just hoping to catch me in a compromising position?”

You rolled your eyes, though you were grateful for the familiar banter. You tried not to recall the events of your nightmare, the lingering tendrils of which still threatened to send you into a blinding panic. In a way, you were grateful to have stumbled across Astarion on your journey out here. As much as you told yourself otherwise, being alone was perhaps not what you needed right now.

“I just needed some fresh air,” you said, less than eager to give away the finer details of your predicament.

Your gaze fell on a needle and thread beside him, and a hole in his shirt draped across his lap.

“What happened?” You asked, nodding to his shirt, in a hasty attempt to change the subject.

“Ah, this? I was unfortunate enough to get tangled up with a particularly feral boar this evening. The little bastard didn't get very far though.”

Well, you thought to yourself, that explains the blood.

As he picked up the needle and resumed his repairs, long fingers moving with practised ease, you found yourself curious. “I didn't know you could sew.”

“I'm a man of many talents. I'd be happy to give you a… private demonstration, if you like.”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “Isn't it exhausting trying to talk your way into my trousers all the time?”

“Who says I was trying to talk my way into your trousers?” Astarion gleamed.

You fixed him with a doubtful look, eyebrow raised. In response, he reached into his pack which rested behind him, and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to you. As you unfolded it, you gasped. Delicate florals, intricate patterns adorned the fabric, embroidered with a meticulous care and skill that you would have attributed to the tailors and seamstresses of Baldur's Gate’s Upper City. It was as if he had captured the essence of a moonlit garden, with silvery threads weaving a tapestry of nocturnal blooms and shadowy vines.

“Gods, Astarion. You made this?”

He nodded, a flicker of genuine pride crossing his features.

“It's beautiful,” you breathed as you ran your fingers across the stitches. “What a wonderful talent to have.”

Something shifted in Astarion’s expression - a flash of vulnerability quickly masked.

“Yes, well, one must find ways to pass the time. Keep it, if you like,” Astarion continues, attempting to feign disinterest. The look in his eyes told a different story.

“Thank you,” you said. You meant it.

A moment of silence passed between you, punctuated by the gentle bubbles and burbles of the river as it flowed.

“I don't think I have any special talents of my own,” you mused, more to yourself than to him.

Astarion glanced up, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you have some hidden talents. I'd be more than happy to help you explore them, if you like. In my tent, perhaps?”

You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze.

Astarion grinned, unabashed. “That time, I was trying to talk my way into your trousers.”

You laughed then and gods, did it feel good to laugh on a night like this, even with the familiar feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. This dance between you - this constant push-and-pull - had become almost comforting in its familiarity. Of course, you had considered his offer - he had not exactly been subtle about his intentions with you. But you weren't quite ready to give in. Not yet, anyway.

Your laughter settled, and something in the mood shifted as Astarion turned his gaze from you to the river.

“Truth be told, Cazador didn't give us much beyond the clothes on our backs. I had to learn some things for myself.”

The admission hung heavy in the air. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, despite the venom that laced his voice at his former master’s name.

“I'm sorry,” you said softly. Once again, you meant it.

He shrugged, forcing a lightness into his tone. “It’s not all bad. Using my hands to create something beautiful - it's a welcome distraction. It lets me feel… well, not good, but less terrible for a while.”

You nodded. You never knew quite what to say in these moments. Astarion had only recently begun to open up to you regarding his past, and each story drew forth a maelstrom of emotions from you. Sadness at the gods-awful role he was thrust into; guilt at not having been there for him sooner; anger, not only at Cazador, but at those who had the opportunity to save him but chose not to, as though his vampiric nature made him less worthy of the safety that all who live, crave. You could only imagine the feelings which raged like a tempest in him.

It was in moments like these that you had to admire just how brave he really was.

You were snapped out of your ruminations when Astarion finished his mending. You caught a glimpse of a sharp, pointed fang as he used it to cut the thread - an action which shouldn't have been as fascinating as it was.

He stood and slipped on his shirt.

“Well?” He asked, with a twirl and a flourish. “What do you think?”

“Perfect as always,” you replied, then paused. “Except for, well, the blood on your face.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in indignation. “And you're only mentioning this now?”

You shrugged, fighting back a grin. “I thought the feral look rather suited you.”

“You absolute freak,” he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind the words.

“I can help if you want.”

As you dug into your pack to procure a washcloth, your intentions clear, Astarion’s reaction was immediate and visceral. He recoiled as if you'd brandished a weapon, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Absolutely not.”

Pride and uncertainty marred his voice. You recognised the look in his eyes - the same wary glance of a feral cat, torn between the desire for help and the instinct to flee.

“Come on,” you coaxed, keeping your voice soft, even. “It's not like you can look in a mirror.”

You had hoped humour would de-escalate the situation.

It did not.

For a moment, anger flashed in his eyes - a cornered predator lashing out. But as he met your gaze, something in his expression shifted. The fury melted to uncertainty, then a flicker of longing so brief you almost missed it.

Astarion’s body language was a mess of contradictions. He leaned slightly towards you, as if drawn by an invisible thread, only to catch himself and pull back. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but the words lacked his usual bite. “I don't need– I mean, I'm perfectly capable of–”

“If you don't need my help, that's okay. We don't have to do this if you don't want to.”

Astarion’s eyes darted between your face and the cloth, held loosely in your hand. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“Why?” He asked.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Why are you helping me? Why care?

“Because I want to,” you answered simply.

Something in Astarion’s expression cracked then, a hairline fracture in his carefully constructed façade. He gave a jerky nod, not quite meeting your eyes.

“Well,” he said, his tone aiming for nonchalance but missing by a mile, “if you insist on playing nursemaid, who am I to stop you? Though I warn you, darling, caring for me can be a dangerous pastime.”

The words were pure Astarion - flirtatious, guarded, with a hint of threat. The words weren't quite acceptance, but they were close enough.

“I'll take my chances,” you teased softly, patting the ground beside you, prompting him to sit.

He complied with an obvious reluctance, perching on the edge of the riverbank as if the ground might swallow him whole.

As you wetted your washcloth in the river and moved closer to him - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin - you notice him tense at the anticipation of your touch. His eyes were squeezed shut, face turned slightly away from you. But you were gentle as you placed the cloth to his cheek and began to wipe away the streaks of crimson from his face.

The sounds of the world around you dulled, faded to a murmur as you tended to him, as though the leaves had stilled their rustling and the river its gurgling. In this moment of suspended reality, your focus narrowed to Astarion’s face and the myriad of emotions playing across it.

His hesitation, his vulnerability - it struck you how monumental this simple act truly was. Here was a man - a vampire - who had known centuries of cruelty; who had learned to weaponise his charm and keep the world at arm’s length for his safety. And yet, he was allowing you to see him like this: uncertain, teetering at the edge of trust.

The weight of his concession settled over you like a blanket. Each micro-expression that flickered across his features told a story of internal struggle - the tightening of his jaw, the slight furrow of his brow, the way his eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for pain that wouldn't come. It was a dance of contradictions; a battle between ingrained distrust and a longing for gentleness.

In this frozen moment, you realised that what you were offering wasn't just a clean face. It was acceptance, care, a touch unburdened by expectation or demand. And for Astarion, perhaps accepting it was an act of bravery greater than any he'd shown in battle.

With careful strokes, you cleaned the blood away from his cheek. You worked slowly, mindful of the tension in his jaw. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he began to relax under your ministrations.

“Turn your head for me?” You asked, softly.

Astarion complied without a word, tilting his face to give you access to the other cheek. His eyes remained closed, but the furrow in his brow had softened.

You resumed your task, gently working your way across his features. A stubborn smear of dried blood at the corner of his mouth, another at the hollows of his cheekbones, droplets that had spattered at his forehead - all melted away before your eyes with each glide of the wet cloth, unveiling his pale skin.

As you worked, you found yourself studying him in a way you never had before. His elven features were a study in contrasts - ethereal beauty intertwined with the weathering of time and hardship. High cheekbones caught the moonlight, throwing delicate shadows across his face. His skin, where it wasn't marred by blood, was like polished alabaster, smooth and luminous.

As you gently moved to cleanse his temple, your fingertips brushed against a strand of his hair - silk curls spun from starlight.

Yet it was the imperfections that truly drew you in. Fine lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes, like a map of laughter and sorrow etched by the years. His brow, while regal, bore the weight of exhaustion, a testament to the burdens he carried.

There was something mesmerising in the juxtaposition - this timeless, otherworldly beauty marked by the unmistakable signs of an unlife born of hardships and losses yet unspoken between you. But each line, each weary shadow, only served to enhance a grace that time and pain could never fully erase.

Your hand paused, cloth hovering near his cheek, as you realised you'd been lost in studying him. In that moment, beneath the moon’s gentle gaze and the river’s whispered song, you saw not just the elf; the vampire; the mysterious travelling companion, but the man - beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly captivating.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, catching you in your reverie. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The air between you was filled with unspoken words and possibilities.

It was… intimate.

“See something you like, darling?” Astarion’s voice was soft, lacking its usual sharp edge of sarcasm. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that made your breath catch.

You smiled softly, resuming your gentle ministrations.

“Just making sure I didn't miss any spots.”

You weren't quite ready to voice the thoughts swirling in your mind.

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by rippling sounds of water as you periodically dipped your washcloth in the river to wring it out.

As you shifted to clean the last traces of blood, you finally looked up again to meet Astarion’s gaze fully.

“There,” you said, “I knew there was a handsome man somewhere under all that filth.”

Astarion’s lips quirked into a smile - not his usual smirk, but something softer.

“Well, I suppose I should thank you for your… attentions,” he murmured.

The moment stretched between you, fragile and charged with possibility. For a heartbeat, you thought he might lean in; might close the distance between you. But the moment passed, leaving behind a mix of relief and something that felt dangerously close to disappointment.

You cleared your throat, breaking the spell.

“We should probably head back to camp,” you suggested, your voice steadier than you felt.

Astarion nodded, rising to his feet with his usual grace. As you gathered your things, you felt his eyes on you, thoughtful and considering.

“You know,” he said as you started back through the woods, “I think you might have one hidden talent.”

You glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

His smile was enigmatic, tinged with something you couldn't quite name.

“You have a remarkable ability to surprise me. And that… that is no small feat.”

As you made your way back to camp, the weight of your nightmare felt lighter. And if you walked a little closer to Astarion than strictly necessary, well, that was just to avoid tripping in the dark. Nothing more.

It was a night like any other and yet, as you settled back into your bedroll, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Astarion. A new understanding, perhaps, or the first trembling notes of a melody yet to be fully composed. Whatever it was, it sang you to sleep, keeping the nightmares at bay just this once.

No Pressure Tag List: @roguishcat @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard

Masterlist can be found here.

#astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fluff

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m0chisenpai · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! Can you do a Armand x Fem!reader x Louis? She would be an assistant of Daniel’s. They have sorta a thing for her but are trying to ease up because she’s not as open to the whole camp thing or lowkey doesn’t believe them.

off the record

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which Daniel neglected to coach you how to deal with the behind the scenes of the creative process

author note: I had too much fun writing this, I love the idea of this trio so much

There takes a certain level of thick skin to work for Daniel Molloy. He wasn't a terrible boss. Just a difficult old man with extremely particular needs and ways he worked. But when he found you, you were an intern with well regarded credentials and grades, but according to your counselor you were headstrong and outspoken.

He accepted your application instantly and by the next year you were his official, and most longstanding, assistant. You juggled his interviews and meetings with editors, and only recently have you begun to manage his doctors appointments.

You traveled with him, it was a non-negotiable that you were to come and expenses were covered, but Dubai was the last thing you'd expected. You’d been nearly to all the states, but for Daniel’s health anything out the country was once in a while and planned carefully.

The first night of the interview you aren’t present. Daniel can tell when he stops by your room, how your eyes droop. Your feet shuffle to greet him at the door and when you speak your words are mumbled.

He lets you sleep, but he won't say its out of care, that he's filled with guilt for dragging you into a penthouse of supernatural apex killers. "Get to sleep unless you wanna read through my mess of a notes kid." He raises a brow that you hum and nod at closing the door so you can return to the warm sheets of the bed. After that you are a fly on the wall just as he always instructed you to be.

Beside him, eyes down, fingers moving and taking notes when he mutters something to you.

Louis asks who you are on the third night, "I never took you for a man who needs help Daniel." You won't admit, but your heart picks up, but you keep yor eyes on the computer screen and let Daniel respond for you.

"Not an intern, she's one of the few ones who didn't run crying after a week working for me."

Your lips turn up at this, one of the few moments he would ever compliment you.

"She truly is like you." His eyes must be on you again, but a shiver washes dwn your spine. Like someones nail ghosts the skin on your back, trailing down your spine. And another hand, caresses the back of your neck.

"Stay out out my mind," you mumble.

"My apologies, just wanted to know about our surprise second guest." Now you dare to look up at him. Ghosts, goblins, vampires werewolves were for shows pandering toward a female audience that wanted to drool over men too beautiful and perfect to ever enter their mundane lives.

You scoff and return your focus to the notes in front of you. "Save the immortal hack for Daniel, Mr.Du Lac."

Your skin crawls at the way he tilts his head ever so slightly, and in that cocky drawl offers another apology.

"Mr Du Lac and his companion would like to dine with you."

You assume it's in regards to the interviews. You bring your computer and personal notepad along with Daniel's. But what you are met with are two wine glasses side by side paired with the men on the couch, one sits in front of them.

Their gazes are unblinking as you enter, setting your things and carefully crossing one leg over the other.

"I'm sorry we are meeting so late, or would it be early Mr.Du Lac."

"Call me Louis, the pleasure is mine. My companion Armand wanted to join our meeting this evening."

Armand creeps you out the moment your eyes lock, how his golden eyes stare you, analyzing you. He isn't as old as Louis. he actually seems to be the age of some of the TA's from school. Though you'd prefer it if it were just Louis and you. You can manage being alone with the latter.

"Daniel tells us you think none of this to be real." Ah, so it does speak.

"It's true. I find the supernatural charade boring," you pick up the yellow pad and pen. "But I'm not paid to to dig any deeper than he asks me to. I polish and prime what he asks, and he does all the writing."

"You weren't able to join the first interview because too were tired. I could hear your heart the entire time, you didn't sleep. Kept tossing and turning the entire night." Now you look at Louis, here he goes again.

"An easy observation, can we please focus on-"

"Thoughts were racing an awful lot too," Louis looks up in fake thought "is any of this worth it, why waste my time on a rich hack. I could be back home working on my portfolio."

Once again you cut him off. Pinching the bridge of your nose, "another keen observation please try and do better, now in session 2-"

"Your father took your mother here." Armand speaks up now and your heart stops, "those earrings she gifted you were from here. In fact in your dreams the previous evening you dreamt of taking them both here. You started planning it with the money that will come out of this interview."

Every word accelerates your heart, it makes Louis smile "Careful cher, your heart might beat out your chest."

Your hands shake as they swipe the glass of wine in front of you, you take two large gulps. Clutching it for comofrt.

"My apologies, I did not wish to cause any distress."

"I'm sorry, I need a moment." You leave your things behind and return to your room that night. You feel childish locking the door behind you and running to the bathroom where you stop for a moment closing that door behind you as well locking it and taking the hottest of showers. The next morning a letter from the two sits by breakfast along with your things in a neat pile.

Eerily it is exactly what you were thinking of yesterday morning, it is french toast made from the fluffiest brioche. With a side of bacon, turkey, you hated pork. Armand asks to speak to you while Daniel rests along with Louis.

Once you eat and shower quickly putting on a sweater to combat the chill you find him in the study.

He sits, almost like he knew you would come.

"It was not our intent to alarm you" his eyes follow you as you sit. "You did not rest last night because of us. Please use tonight to rest."

You refuse to look at him, favoring the thread on your sweaters sleeve.

"You are more than qualified to work for any other reporter on your own, yet you work for...him. Why?"

"He was the only one to look pass the observations of my advisor, I wasn't going to be just an errand girl. Not too many publishers cared for my opinions. I was too blunt and rough along the edges to be a writer."

"You didn't believe Mr.Molloy was interviewing a vampire yet you still followed him here."

"It's not my book. I'm a fly on the wall remember?"

"But if it were your story?"

You pause in thought, and now you look away into those unsettling eyes after a moment. "I would have interviewed Claudia had she survived. I feel her story needs to be heard."

You answer more of his prodding questions till you return to your room for lunch. A wrap of some sort with nuts and fruits on the side. And a pile of little girls diaries with white gloves and a note to handle with caution.

Armand won't voice his affinity for you as Louis does. You won't admit the way his eyes settle on you as you enter the room makes you preen, makes your heart fuzzy and your head feel like it wants to float away.

The interview goes on tonight with Armand joining. They once more talk about Lestat. You try and fight your eyes from rolling as you read through an email.

'If I hear his name one more time I might gouge my ears out.'

'Don't torture yourself like that cher.' Your eyes look to him, but he remains focused on Daniel, listening to Armand. How does one multitask like that? Two conversations at once must be hard.

'Years of practice.'

'And what's with all this chere nonsense?'

'Would you prefer your name instead?'

'No' your cheeks warm in embarassment "I...enjoy it."

"Get me some pictures of this theatre." Daniel's instructions get your attention, "and whatever memorabilia you can find." You nod typing that onto your list of many other things to do.

'I will help you with that tonight, after the session I've arranged for dinner tonight' Armand now stares at you and that damned feeling begins to creep back in 'no pork as per your request.' You hate how quick you are to forgive him. But he slowly is earning your trust again.

Daniel coughs obnoxiously getting the elder vampires attention. "You were saying?" This time when you look down, a smile only the pair can detect makes its way upon your lips.

They stare at you less, leave your mind alone as per your request. And indulge in your blunt questions. Each night you find yourself slowly feeling less discomfort. You almost wish you could stay, you think to yourself one night now dining with the two looking at pictures of Louis in his younger years.

He sits beside you, smiling as he watches your hands carefully hold the photos from their time in France.

"No fair, Paris is top of my bucket list."

"I'd be more than happy to take you," Louis gives you that smirk which you roll your eyes in playfulness at.

"Sure you will."

"We could take you anywhere you would like" Armand states.

"Ibizia?"

"Gladly."

"Bali."

"Sure."

Even though you still doubt their supernatural nature. You indulge them. Unknown that just as much as you have them wrapped around your finger, they have you caught in a web.

And they'll patiently wait for you to realize that there are some beings whose hearts you should never toy with. For the results afterwards, are eternal.

#armand x reader #iwtv #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #the vampire armand x reader #iwtv x reader #journalist!reader

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