#when he does the fangs up and i die

[lastmidtownshowmp3]

Fangs up….. x

[zishuge]

Today I gave myself feels thinking about Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, and Hulijing moving on and aging in a world without Li Lianhua. A world where Li Lianhua isn't there — but then again, he is there, in Lianhualou, and in the townspeople who flock to it, bearing gifts for the miracle doctor who once saved a life, fixed a roof, exposed a conman, comforted a child. Young Fang Duobing used to want to know every little detail about his hero, Li Xiangyi. Now Fang Duobing wants to know every detail about his beloved friend, Li Lianhua. The years pass and fewer people come. But if they remember him, Li Lianhua lives on.

(long post, half meta, half fic, bittersweet)

They travel together, with Hulijing, in Lianhualou. Fang Duobing has nothing better to do, so he takes up detective work again. Di Feisheng has nothing better to do, so he comes along. Everywhere they go, they look for Li Lianhua. And in their journeys, it seems like everywhere they go, someone is talking about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who had always been something of a legend, but ever since his reappearance and subsequent (re)disappearance, has seemingly been elevated into something approaching godhood.

you should've seen him, people say, floating across the rooftops in red, cold and beautiful, like an avenging hero out of some novel. wasn't he dead? no — of course he wasn't, li xiangyi would never have been so easily killed. but it was bicha poison, i heard nobody could survive bicha poison. yes, he was definitely dead, and came back to life through dark magic. no, he'd been alive the whole time, just held captive by di feisheng. he tried to kill his shixiong ten years ago and failed, and came back to finish the job. no, his shixiong tried to kill the emperor and li xiangyi came to stop him. the emperor? impossible. yes — don't you know, li xiangyi is the emperor's long-lost son?

All of it only amuses Di Feisheng, but it irks Fang Duobing. The same Fang Duobing, who, when he was younger, would've hungered for every little detail about Li Xiangyi and begged to hear more, now finds it maddening to listen to these strangers talk about him as if they knew him. The world might have known Li Xiangyi, but it had never known Li Lianhua.

Li Lianhua, who could wield Shaoshi like it was a natural extension of his arm, but regularly cut his fingers clumsily slicing radishes and onions. Li Lianhua, who would invariably try to shrug off an attack of bicha poison, but yelped and jumped back from hot oil splatters in the kitchen like a child. Li Lianhua, who frowned when a passing carriage splashed mud onto his robes, but knelt carelessly into the dirt and grass to play with Hulijing.

None of them knew any of that.

But as Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng continue their travels, they begin to encounter other people as well. People who come running when they see Lianhualou in the distance tottering their way. People who come bearing gifts — a woman looking for the shenyi who had helped her with her back pain and also exposed the con artist who had tried to trick her daughter into marriage. A young man coming to thank the doctor who had given his father herbs for stress while uncovering the corrupt official who had falsely accused him of theft. An elderly couple looking for the young man who had helped them thatch their roof before a rainstorm and had given them some medicinal cream before he left. (One middle-aged man with a club, looking for the wangba quack doctor who had exposed his infidelity to his wife — he had left after one look at Di Feisheng, standing silently in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and dao strapped across his back.) People who greet Hulijing like an old friend.

Fang Duobing listens eagerly to every story they tell him, and in return, he tells them about his brilliant, kind, exasperating friend. Di Feisheng rolls his eyes every time, but Fang Duobing notices he never walks away either. They don't talk about it. But it’s as if Li Lianhua returns, however briefly, during those visits; in those moments, Fang Duobing can almost see him standing there, bending down to pet Hulijing alongside these old friends as she grins her little doggy grin and wags her tail. She escorts their guests to the door, and sits in the doorway after they leave, looking out at the world as though waiting. He doesn't ask if Di Feisheng can see him too. They sit and share wine after these visits, and eat the fruit that the visitors bring, until Di Feisheng can stand the heavy silence no longer and pushes Fang Duobing outside to spar. Hulijing follows faithfully, as always.

(fang duobing had brought home a puppy, once. he can't remember where he found it, but he remembers that he had held it in his lap in his wheelchair, eager to show it to his uncle before taking it home to his mother. his uncle had glared, and told him that dogs were only useful to guard the house, and tianji manor already had guards, human ones, and that fang duobing would do better to focus on his swordplay rather than waste time on such useless and frivolous things. he had taken the puppy away and fang duobing had never seen it again. it wasn't until those blurry months as he rode across the countryside looking for li lianhua, hulijing trotting along ever so loyally at his side, that he realized this was just another way that shan gudao and li xiangyi were opposites.)

The years pass, and there are fewer and fewer people who come. One day Fang Duobing wakes up with the unbearable realization that he is now older than Li Lianhua had ever been, would ever be, and is unable to get out of bed for a good half a shichen. Di Feisheng leaves him be.

The years pass, and Di Feisheng grows older too. There are lines on his face, snowy white beginning to thread through his jet-black hair. Fang Duobing wants very much to tease him about it, but the words catch in his throat when he looks too closely at the signs of time on Di Feisheng's face. What a precious and altogether rare thing it is, to age.

The years pass, and Hulijing grows older too. Fang Duobing finds that more and more often, Hulijing can no longer keep up with him when he goes riding. He stops going riding. She gets cold more easily now too, and more and more often Fang Duobing wakes in the morning with Hulijing curled up under the covers next to him, her wet nose shoved into his armpit. He holds her close and thinks about Li Lianhua shivering in his arms.

--------------------

It's been nearly a year since their last visitor, but today there is an old man. He comes in the morning, bringing a basket of plums. A long time ago, he says, a young man who lived here saved my life. I had been poisoned, he says, by my son who wanted my money and my lands. The doctors said there was no cure. But then the young man came and performed a miracle. He saved my life. He saved my life.

Fang Duobing knows it was no miracle that saved him. He asks for the old man's hand and it is given readily, albeit bemusedly. He presses his fingers to the inside of the man's wrist, and is greeted with a whisper-faint, gentle thrum of yangzhouman — a soft hello from a much-beloved friend. You fool, he thinks dazedly, caught somewhere between overwhelmed that here is someone, inside whom a piece of Li Lianhua lives on, and so bitterly angry. What had it cost? Some hours, days, weeks? He doesn't let himself think of what another week might have afforded them in those wild final days, in their desperate search for a cure. Fang Duobing gives the old man back his hand and blinks back the sting of tears. He cannot talk about Li Lianhua today. He apologizes and tells him that the man he is looking for is traveling and won't be back for a few days, but that Fang-mou will pass on the message. Before he leaves, the man leans down to rub at Hulijing's ear. My old friend, he says, like me, you, too, are truly old now.

After the man leaves, Fang Duobing folds himself into a sit on the floor of Lianhualou and gathers Hulijing into his arms. Gently — her joints are stiff now, and he can't haul her around, can't roughhouse with her the way he used to. Di Feisheng comes down the stairs from where he had been listening; he stands behind Fang Duobing and places a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. At the edge of his vision, near the door, Fang Duobing can see the hazy hem of green robes. If he looks up, he wonders brokenly, what would he see? The face of a man forever frozen in youth? Or a face lined with age, snowy white beginning to thread through jet-black hair? He suddenly finds that he cannot bear to find out.

Fang Duobing knows. He knows that the myth and the outlandish rumors about proud, arrogant, beautiful Li Xiangyi will never die. But he also knows that one day, there will be no one else who comes to Lianhualou; no one left who remembers gentle, sly, infuriating Li Lianhua. One day, the old man will pass on and the piece of Li Lianhua that he carries with him will fade as well. And one day… Fang Duobing presses his forehead against the soft fur of Hulijing's neck where it has gone white and thin with age. He closes his eyes and breathes.

--------------------

Years and years and years later, Fang Duobing is awakened from where he has fallen into a light doze reading in his chair by a soft knock on the door. There is a woman standing outside, holding a small basket of pears. I think I remember this building, she says. I must've only been six years old, but I had run off and lost my parents. I fell down in the street and skinned my knees. A kind gege helped me and gave me a piece of candy. He said he would walk me home but I said I didn't know whether I should tell him where I lived. He laughed and asked if it would help if I knew where he lived. He pointed to the most fantastical and wild house I had ever seen. I think it was this place. Xiansheng, does he live here? Who was he? Do you know him?

Fang Duobing smiles and invites her inside. On the bed, the small white dog that Di Feisheng has named, ridiculously, Baigujing, raises her head and thumps her tail a few times in hello. Di Feisheng looks up from where he is writing a letter at the table. Fang Duobing leads the woman over and waves at her to sit down. He sits across from her, ignoring Di Feisheng's eyeroll, and offers her a piece of candy. He always keeps candy around. Fang Duobing smiles once more and says, if you'd like to know — there is so much I would like to tell you.

[specialgrades]

CRiTiCAL HiT ! ⏤ select genshin men and their sensitive spots

arataki itto, wriothesley, neuvillette

➜ ┊: cw ! porn without plot, monster fucking… kinda, dom!reader, nipple play, premature ejaculation, pet names ( sugar, baby, darling, my love ), reader’s gender not specified but is topping neuvillette ( could be read as a strap or a dick ), hair pulling, neuv is kinda ooc but we're gonna ignore that for now, cumming untouched, not beta read we die like men

notes. whoa hey. i'm kinda popping off recently. anyway this is only three characters cause they're the only ones i'm horny for. if you think i have a particular favourite you're probably right. dividers by cafekitsune as per usual, backbone of tumblr fr!

ARATAKi iTTO — horns

such a big man reduced to a whimpering mess if you stroke his horns! god forbid you do it while he’s already experiencing other stimuli…

itto’s grunts and groans mixed in with your own moans as his hips snapped against yours. his hair falling in his face as he hung his head, fangs almost piercing his lip with how hard he’s biting it. your hands gripping at the sheets as he makes it his mission to rearrange your guts. one particular thrust has his tip hitting that spot deep inside you directly; a broken scream leaving you as your hands flew up to him for anything to ground yourself with. fingers wrapping around his red oni horns, tugging as he keeps hitting that spot. itto moans loudly, hips stuttering. “sugar, don— oh fuck—!” you tug again, oblivious to his protests until you feel him cum inside of you a lot quicker than usual. his body shakes as he does, whimpers leaving him. he knew his horns were sensitive, but not that much; and god did it feel good. you blink at him, hands still holding onto his horns. “did you jus’... cum from having your horns touched?” you manage, shuttering as he slowly fucks his cum deeper into you. “sensitive— ah-!” he yelps when you tug again. any semblance of dominance he had slipped away as you played with his horns. his cock twitched back to life at record speed, his hips moving on their own. “fuck sugar, don’t stop… tug ‘em harder— jus’ like that, fuck! fuck…” he cums again, crying out as he did.

WRiOTHESLEY — chest

wrio never knew that his chest was that sensitive, he always just ignored that part of his body during his own time. your wandering hands change that…

wriothesley’s kisses were always hungry, sloppy. he doesn’t have much experience, but his eagerness to devour you every time your lips connect isn’t something you’d trade for the world. he helps you tug his tie off and undo his vest, the fabric hanging loosely off of his shoulders. all without breaking the kiss you had pulled him into a few minutes prior. your fingers work on the buttons of his dress shirt while he toys with the hem of your shirt. same fingers pushing under the fabric of his shirt, index fingers brushing against his nipples as you moved. wriothesley surprised himself with the moan that escaped him when they did, freezing up for a second. he feels you smirk against him, fingers brushing over his nipples again. he caught the moan this time— though barely— shaky noises escaping him as his nipples hardened under your touch. his slacks feeling even tighter than they did when you began undressing him. “sensitive, are we?” you ask against his lips. he’s trying to focus and doesn’t respond instantly; causing you to lightly pinch the buds. he whines, body unsure if it wants to push against or pull away from the sensation. “y-yes! don’t—” he breaks the kiss as he tosses his head back, eyes squeezed shut and bottom lip tugged between his teeth. you look down to his pants, part of the light grey turned a darker shade from how much he’s leaking just from your teasing. “let’s see…” you let go of his chest to walk him back against his desk. he had fully intended to fuck you against it not even five minutes ago, but the tables had turned. he felt your gaze on the evident bulge in his pants, wiggling his hips in hopes it’d get you to touch him. you did, but not where he wanted you to. pushing his shirt and vest from his shoulders to fully expose his torso, you went for his chest again. whimpers and moans spilled from him as you toyed with the sensitive skin. a particularly loud moan that caused him to bite his hand to silence himself when your tongue flicked against the left one. he felt the coil in his stomach tighten as your tongue swirled around the bud, your fingers tweaking the one your mouth wasn’t on. he shrugged the rest of his shirt off, hand gripping your shoulder as he thrusted his hips up into nothing. “baby ‘m gonna— please— fuck fuck fuck-!” he gripped you tight as he came untouched, cum soaking his underwear and pants. he shuttered when you gave one last pinch to his nipples, breathing hard when you pulled away. “hm… cute.” you surmise, running your finger along the wet spot of his pants. he pulled away from your touch, sensitivity heightened. you smiled at him, cupping his face gently. “think you got one more in you, baby?”

NEUViLLETTE — ears

it’s law that pointy elf ears are sensitive. argue with a wall. the iudex is no exception…

neuvillette buried his head into the pillows, shaky breaths turning into moans as the sound of skin hitting skin. he felt your lips on his nape and shoulder— licking, biting, sucking the skin there as you fucked into him. his cocks rubbing against the pillow you put under his hips and staining the cotton. pulling away from his shoulder after nursing the bruises you left, your eyes focus on the pointy ears of the iudex. your curiosity got the better of you and before you could stop yourself, your tongue darted out to lick at the shell of his ear. neuvillette shuttered and moaned, hole clenching as pleasure ran through his body. “darling not there plea—” he cut himself off with a moan when the mixture of you hitting his prostate and your tongue running along his ear made his entire body light on fire. “your weak spot, hm?” you muse, your voice rumbling against his skin. he moaned, nodding as he moved his hips to get more friction on his dicks and to fuck back against you. “please…” he mumbles, so close with the mixture of all the stimuli happening at once. “more…” he begs weakly. he doesn’t expect you to give in so easily, but he’s been so good all day you cave; pulling back until just the tip was inside him before harshly snapping your hips against his ass. you lightly bit the tip of his ear as you did, tongue still running along the cartilage. the iudex cried out, arching further into the mattress as he felt the coil begin to snap. “please let me cum darling, please ‘s too much please-!” he cries, trying so hard to hold back from cumming until you give him the green light. “so soon, neuvi? your ears that sensitive?” he nodded, rain hitting the window as you brought him closer to the edge. you hum, breath hot on his ear. “go on, my love…” you lick his ear again. “cum.” he does almost instantly, crying out as he makes a mess of the pillow and his stomach. he collapsed onto the mattress, small shocks going through his body from the intensity of his orgasm. you give him a minute before sitting up, hand wrapping around his hair and horns. with a tug he’s pulled flush to your chest. high pitched yelp left him as you did, feeling your breath against his other ear now. “let’s see where else you’re sensitive, hm?”

[so0thsayer]

random lost boys HCs !!! (x gn!reader)

I have to get these out of my system. They have been marinating for far too long man omg. Also, this is also my first post so................ lets pray i did this right🙏🙏 also i didnt really proof read lol

let me know if you wanna see more stuff like this :3

WARNINGS: mentions of scars, drugs, biting, scratching. slightly suggestive (nothing too crazy)

David: 𖦹 I'd kill for you.

𖦹 loves to leave marks and love bites anywhere he can sink his teeth. His favourite places to mark would probably be the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades and the inside of your thighs. He understands the importance of the marks not being visible to the public - so he likes to sink his fangs in places that most people cant see. BUT- he'd def leave hickeys in very obvious spots.

𖦹 Wants everyone to know you're his. Not afraid to get handsy in public if you let him.

𖦹 enjoys a good book every now and then, but only when your head is on his lap.

𖦹 typa guy to guide you around with his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your waist/ shoulders 24/7.

𖦹 Your seat in the cave is right next to his

Paul: 𖦹 He’s very touchy, but times that by 1000 when he gets his lips wrapped around that stick of holy grass (yes i am a paul does drugs sometimes believer). He would want to feel the heat of your skin, even scratching at you sometimes just to have a piece of you under his nails.

𖦹 Not scared to show affection in public. He has no shame.

𖦹 CONSTANT flirting

𖦹 Has a collection of stolen goods. Even stuff that he would never use. If you show an interest in a trinket he has stolen, he'll give it to you whether you want it or not.

𖦹 music buff. loves sharing his takes on popular songs and artists. He likes to bring you to the boardwalk stage to listen to some live music, usually sitting on the outer skirts of the crowd.

𖦹 has a bunch of stupid pet/nicknames for you. (dollface, sugar, sweetness, etc.)

Marko: 𖦹 hovers over you a lot. Always getting up and going places with you without a question, even if you dont ask him to come. He just really enjoys your company, never shy of interesting conversations.

𖦹 This man's love language is playful teasing, dont try to tell me otherwise !!! Not even in a mean way- just always striving to make you laugh in his own way.

"You got something there" He points at your shirt. As you look down, he flicks your nose. "Gotcha." He chuckles.

𖦹 the best at cooking out of the four of them, often taking over the cook pot to make your favourite meals.

𖦹 he'd bark at someone if they tried to get with you LMAO

𖦹 one of his favourite ways to pass the time with you is hitting the up the boardwalk clothes stores. He loves picking out new clothes for you, letting you know how good you look in them. "Damn, babe."

𖦹 having you over his shoulder gives him a constant ego boost.

Dwayne: 𖦹 I'd die for you.

𖦹 definitely love marks, scars etc. idk, he just seems like the kinda guy who would. He loves the way they feel under his fingers as he caresses his lover’s skin. He reads the stories they tell like brail. And for stretch marks, he loves the way they glisten in the light as they fade, and he loves the way they make an indent, rather than a bump for once. Perhaps he'd also like leaving a few marks of his own, like a bite mark or two, but he also doesn’t want to hurt you at the same time.

𖦹 cuddling with this man would be incredible.

𖦹 loves it when you play with his beautiful hair :3 (has a hard time asking for you to tho- he feels a great warmth when you do it without him asking). honestly just loves being touched by you in general

𖦹 he isn’t so much a go out of his way to smother you kinda guy, but he will gladly hug you tightly if you hug him. His favourite ways to touch you are to wrap his arm around his waist, putting his arm over your shoulder while you’re sitting with each other and stroking your hair and skin while you lay your head on his lap. He just loves to feel your warmth on his cold finger tips.

𖦹 100000000x more affectionate in private dude

𖦹 the moment you ask him for something he’s on it. “Hey, could you get me-“ and he’s already handing it to you. He loves helping you in every way possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed my first post !! :3 I know it's kinda short but I couldnt really find anything else to add😭 i am stressed

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

--

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger.  For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

--

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued... 

Part 2

-- 

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

My Masterlist

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Taglist (Want to be added? Click here.) - 

@copingchaos @n1ght5h4d3-24 @paintmekala @chaoticevilbakugo @janebby @chaoticevilbakugo @weirdo125 @roseqzpd @bitchyglitterfox @m0nster-fvcker @romanarose

Won’t Tag: @janebby @marvelescvpe

If you want taken off, just let me know! I took a guess on who might be interested.

[dark-and-kawaii]

꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂

Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy

(Click For Part Two)

You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.

He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.

His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.

Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.

His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.

Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”

The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.

Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.

Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.

“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.

Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.

“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.

Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.

“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”

Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”

Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”

“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.

Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”

“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”

He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.

“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”

Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”

Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”

Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.

He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.

A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.

He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.

“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.

When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!

“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”

Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

[yhwhsdaughter]

Alucard Alphabet

Affection ༄

He is quite affectionate. Alucard’s heart softens at the mere sight of you, so it’s difficult to be anything but loving. He unconsciously lowers his voice when speaking to you so it comes out like a sweet murmur. He has this need to touch you, whether it be a protective hand on your shoulder or a sultry kiss.

Best friend ༄

The two of you would be inseparable. Alucard might seem uptight at times, but he’s always putting your best interests at heart. His help is available to you, always. He won’t hesitate to intervene in your stead should problems arise. Loves to listen as you tell him your worries and thoughts. Alucard stares so intensely into your soul as he does this, which is endearing but also a bit concerning.

Cuddles ༄

In your arms he wishes to stay for the rest of his days. Alucard wouldn’t bring up the desire to cuddle so you’d have to be the one to propose. He won’t admit to liking it, but it’s quite obvious and he won’t fight you on it. Alucard loves to embrace you when cuddling, preferably facing each other. Kisses your forehead often when cuddling. He also inhales your scent because it brings him peace.

Domestic ༄

Alucard absolutely yearns for normalcy. He wants the two of you to have a mundane life, full of domestic intimacy so bad. Alucard wishes for a time where you can be together, without having to worry about fighting the undead or risk losing you in the process. That said, he is perfect around the house; he cooks, cleans, and offers protection. Your cup will never be empty with him.

Ending ༄

He would try to keep things as civil as possible. Alucard wants an amicable separation—mostly to spare your feelings. He’s definitely hesitant about breaking up the memories you have constructed. There’s a bit of awkwardness in the process, for he’s not the most experienced with amorous relationships.

Fiance ༄

Alucard is so happy to be with you, so he’ll have no issue committing his every breath for your happiness. Having a life partner is honestly all he could’ve wished for. He will be a devoted and loving husband. Alucard would craft the most beautiful rings you’d ever seen. On the inside would be an inscription of his feelings for you, engraved in both your minds and hearts.

Gentle ༄

Would rather die a thousands deaths than ever hurt you. Alucard is a gentleman; he’ll tend to your needs, all of them, sometimes placing them above his. Because of his enhanced strength, Alucard will handle you carefully, almost like you’re made of glass. His touch is that of a feather, his voice like a ghostly whisper. Remind Alucard that even if he were to shatter you with his long sword and fangs, you would die a most pleasant death.

Hugs ༄

Will not ask for them explicitly, but he loves embracing you and being embraced. If he’s feeling particularly needy, Alucard will simply trudge towards you and do it. Now, his hugs are incredibly comforting, though they tend to be a bit heavy since he leans on you, his form draping over yours. He doesn’t want you to disappear, even for a moment.

I love you ༄

Alucard will say this spontaneously. It could be at a time where he’s feeling desperate or peaceful. Either way, the words will slip from his lips. This confession won’t be revealed till he’s sure you’re the one—meaning you’ll have to be patient because Alucard is showing opening his vulnerable heart to potential hurt.

Jealousy ༄

Oh, he gets jealous. I think it brings feelings of insecurity. Alucard might try to be subtle about it, he may even act suave about the whole ordeal, plastering a cocky expression over his statuesque-like face. Immediately, he will bury his face on the crook of your neck, fangs grazing your carotid gently.

Kisses ༄

Soft, desperate and forceful. Not in a bad way though, Alucard just needs to feel you… firmly. He gets carried away in your touch and embrace. It’s so addicting that if he were to miss your kisses for a day, he’ll go into a withdrawal. The most common places where Alucard will plant kisses is your lips, temple, neck, and the back of your hand. In return, he’ll want to be kissed on the jaw, the corner of his mouth, and the crook of his neck.

Little ones ༄

He likes to humor them. Alucard is surprisingly patient with children. He would be a great father; has a desire to form a family, whether it be biologically or adopted. He just wants to share that love and be loved.

Morning ༄

Quite peaceful. He would prepare breakfast so when you wake, a meal is already waiting. Alucard also likes to start the mornings by giving you small kisses, a reminder of his love and proof that you’re real, not a mirage or figment of his imagination. Evidence that you’re with him and he’s not lost himself. He likes to start the day slowly, not eager to do much without you.

Night ༄

He’s a creature of the night, somewhat. So if there’s a time where you can’t wander into the land of dreams, Alucard will keep you company. He’ll hold you in his arms and carry you to the top of Castle Dracula to admire the stars till he feels the weight of your head on his shoulder. Afterwards, Alucard will share your bed.

Open ༄

Um. He’s a bit closed off to be honest. Alucard’s story is complex, one that he doesn’t feel like repeating aloud. He loves to learn about you though—taking notes of all your favorites, dreams, as well as the things you hate. However, when you mention how it can be a bit unbalanced, Alucard will then sit you down and reveal his troubles. It’ll take time for him to tell you everything, but that’s fine because you’re not planning to go anywhere.

Patience ༄

Unlike with others Trevor, Alucard extends you his infinite patience. He might get exasperated but never angry. If we’re being quite honest, everything you do is adorable to him. You could be massacring a vampire and Alucard will have heart eyes, smiling proudly. Blame the beating organ inside his chest that threatens to jump out whenever he lays eyes on you.

Q �� Quizzes

You are always on his mind. Alucard reserves his best thoughts towards you, so he’ll remember everything. It’s unnerving, in a good way, how Alucard knows you so intimately.

R ༄ Remember

There’s so many precious memories that are stored in the vault that is his heart and mind; so if you were to ask him specifically what’d be his favorite moment in your relationship, he would probably answer with, “When I lay eyes on you.” So, all the time.

S ༄ Security | How protective is he? How would he protect you?

There’s no safer place than by his side, and in his arms, his embrace. Alucard would go to the ends of the earth for you. Your security, your safety, your well-being— it is all above everything. Albeit he fought against his father for trying to exterminate the world for his mother, Alucard would do the same for you.

T ༄ Try

No one like him would put this much effort into a relationship. He would get and arrange things to your liking but not so much that it would overwhelm you. It’s a bit endearing when he’s a bit awkward about certain aspects of being with you.

U ༄ Ugly

His lack of trust can be a bad habit of his. It’s not like he doesn’t trust you specifically, it’s just… well, in his defense, life hasn’t been kind to him. Because of this he might seem cold or detached, and quite depressive at times. Alucard, prior to you, tended to go off the deep end with ease, almost getting consumed by his thoughts.

V ༄ Vanity

For him its all about the heart, though it doesn’t hurt if you’re a beauteous woman. That said, Alucard finds you extremely captivating in every aspect. There was a time where he would constantly stare at your hands and face whenever you’d cook. He would get so entranced by your movements and expressions.

W ༄ Whole

You’ve attached yourself to his heart and soul. You’re ingrained in his being that any attempt at separation is painful. So, Alucard would very much feel incomplete without you in his life.

X ༄ X-ray

There’s no one that knows you more than him. He knows you like the back of his hand. He could sketch every piece of your face, down to the last hair, from memory alone.

Y ༄ Yuck

Don’t tie him up. Seriously. He loves you to no end and wouldn’t harm a hair on your pretty little self, but the idea of being tied would make him anxious, recalling bad memories. He’s entirely averse to causing you pain. He can’t bear to mark you purposefully—maybe only bites but that’s with explicit consent and once in a blue moon.

Z ༄ Zzz

He likes to sleep holding your hand, always facing you, never away. He’ll sleep on his back or facing you—Alucard doesn’t like to give you his back, wanting to fall asleep staring at you. For if he were to die before he wakes, he would want you to be the last thing he sees.

[vampirenicotine]

analyzing the lyrics for “long face” feat. lestat de lioncourt and realizing it’s a louis diss track (with love) is making me more unhinged by the second.

so we open with the gorgeous oooh oooh wah ahhh hypnotizing portion of this song that will stay in your head and where samuel thyne reid is also showing off his *cough* vocal talent.

next….

“why the long face? my pretty baby” — cause you know louis is a sad girlie but also so fucking beautiful and irresistible to lestat when they met he couldn’t possibly understand what louis would be sad about but also… he’s ready to comfort him ALWAYS.

��i got long fangs come appraise me” —lestat is talking about how he’s a vampire so come asess my value and also … fangs could be a metaphor for his pink pony so!

“bring your long stakes that doesn’t phase me” — lestat is saying you can talk shit about me louis and drive a stake through my heart but i still love you teehe.

“i’m an actor in my make up” — he’s saying i can play games too, louis.

“i’ll get fatter when we break up” —so he’s acknowledging the confidence issues he had over the 77 year break up and the break ups before which…. i don’t have the words to speak on otherwise i’ll die.

“why does it matter who i take up?” —he’s saying why does it matter who i sleep with in regardless to antoinette and it’s like love you king… but you’re crazy.

NEXT!

“another face, another year, another place, another tear, pick up the pace, rack up the fears, now we’re having fun.” — this is a little love letter to his cult (us) telling us to get amplified bitch it’s only the beginning

the instrumental break/oohing and ahhing just so immaculate tough cookie alex & larry really did that!

“i’m piano and you’re forte.” — so this lyric right here is what drove me feral because it has so many possible meanings and a few naughty innuendos. what im going to land on however is the fact that lestat is saying im piano because he can be used in whatever way louis wants to use him and he’s saying louis you’re forte (which means my strength) so he’s like idc what you say about me because you hold me together 🥹

“you’re allegro, i’m andante.” —THIS RIGHT HERE HAD ME ON MY KNEES. this is exposing their sex life in the best way because lestat is saying oh i’m your black tar heroin? ok noted and lemme match that because you’re allegro (which means energetic, fast, super active, loud) so basically he says i know you’re addicted to me because i was there. you’re wild in bed and you’re a screamer. he then says he’s andante (slow) because he likes to take his time and worship louis and really make love to him. BYE.

“we’re boléro, prostitué.” —and then he’s like just because i said we go slow sometimes first and foremost we’re freaks. we’re nasty and we’re unspeakable and well… thank you so much for those visuals queen de lioncourt.

“another taste, another year, another place, another tear, another chase, another sneer, without a trace, you disappear, pick up the pace, pack up the gear, gimme some face, a souvenir, here come the gays, here comes the fear, now we’re having fun.” — these bars are what’s going to give miss lioncourt her first grammy nominations because she is summarizing her relationship with louis and hopes for the future.

he’s also telling louis he’s giving him exactly what he wants. he’s chasing him. he knows louis is gonna sneer at him and be annoyed but come anyway. he’s saying you ghosted me after our reunion but im going on tour and you WILL be my rockstar girlfriend. you’ll kiss me (or the pink pony) before my shows as good luck. he’s saying we’re gonna be gay and proud, we’ll take over the world, cause the vampire apocalypse, scare bitches, and have fun. we own the night.

and finally for the song to end with lestat losing himself and moaning into the mic (coming, smirks) as he thinks about his chaotic plan to get louis back well… it’s just music to my ears. and i will listen to it again. and again. and again. and again.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ rating for you lestat

signed,

your loving groupie.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Triggers

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Sam does something that reminds you of your abusive stepfather, and your response scares both of your brothers.

Sam and Dean didn’t know much about your life before them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You were John’s daughter, but Mary wasn’t your mother. John didn’t find out about you until your mother died, at which time he took you in. But there was something about your life that even he didn’t know.

You had a stepfather.

You hadn’t told John, because even when you first met him, you had sensed something. You had sensed that if he knew that you had any option other than him, he would be gone in an instant. You found out why soon after; his life was a very dangerous one.

But you had told him that you had no one else, so he’d taken you in. And you didn’t regret it. You’d take monsters with two big brothers and your real father over a “safe” nice home and your stepfather any day.

He’d abused you both emotionally and verbally as soon as he’d married your mother, and you were almost certain that it would’ve turned physical if he hadn’t known that your mother would leave him over that. As soon as your mother died, you knew you weren’t safe in that house anymore; your stepfather could do whatever he wanted to you.

So here you were, with the Winchesters, and it couldn’t be better. They were your real family, more than your stepfather and even your mother had ever been. As much as you’d loved your mother, she’d stood by and watched while your stepfather said whatever he wanted to you, even when he threatened you and terrified you to the point where you had nightmares about him going through with his threats. You could never go back to that kind of life.

Even if it meant this, what was happening now. You were wandering around a maze of boxes and crates in the middle of a warehouse, trying to find your brothers. You’d recklessly ran down a corridor to chase down a vampire, but once it was dead you realized you’d gotten yourself lost. It would’ve been fine, if not for a couple of key factors. 1: Your phone was dead, and 2: there wasn’t just one vamp in the warehouse, it was a nest.

You just hoped that Sam and Dean found you before the nest did.

“What do we have here?” You cringed at the unfamiliar voice. Of course you couldn’t be so lucky.

“I’d say it looks like dinner,” another vampire said from behind you.

“You don’t want to do this,” you warned as your fingers tightened around your machete.

“You have no idea how much I do,” he grinned at you.

You backed away from the two monsters until your back hit a stack of crates and your movement was stopped. You were semi-confident in your ability to take them both out, until you saw movement behind some boxes to your left, and three more joined the group. One of the first two had snuck up behind you while your attention was on the other vamps, and you didn’t notice him until his hand shot out, gripping your arm and twisting it until your machete clanked to the ground.

“See,” the first one spoke as he advanced on you. “Doesn’t matter that you’re a hunter.” The man moved, and before you could blink he had your arms pinned to your side, his fangs dangerously close to your neck. You felt your whole body shiver when you felt his next words as a breath against your throat. “You’re gonna die like every other brat we bleed dry.”

“You think so?”

The sound of that familiar voice almost made your knees go weak in relief. The pressure on your wrists disappeared as the vampire turned to charge at Dean, who deftly took his head off in one swing.

Sam was right beside him, taking out a couple of other vampires. Before long, all five lay dead on the ground, and you leaned heavily against the crate behind you, your legs feeling too shaky to hold you up.

“Are you ok?” Sam’s voice didn’t quite reach through your fogged mind, until he stepped forwards and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you until you looked at him. “Are you ok?”

“I-I’m…” you nodded feebly, and Sam’s demeanor changed.

“What were you thinking?” His sudden raise in volume made you flinch, your whole body tensing.

“I’m sor-sorry, I-“

“You could’ve been killed! Where were you? How could you be so-“

“Sam!”

You didn’t even hear when Dean interrupted Sam, pulling him away from you. You couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in your ears, and the voice that was so clearly not either of your brothers.

“What were you thinking?”

“How could you be so stupid?”

“If you pull anything like that again, I’ll kill you!”

“You’re lucky your mother is here, or I’d beat you until you couldn’t stand!”

All the different times, all the different threats just merged together, playing over and over in your head. You couldn’t hear anything but that voice, couldn’t see anything but that face.

You didn’t even feel it when your legs gave out and you sank to the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, hands coming up to cover your ears as you rocked back and forth, back and forth.

“No…” you whimpered. “Stop, please stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean didn’t know what to say.

“Sam, what did you…”

“I-I didn’t…I don’t…” Sam couldn’t take his eyes off you as you shuddered and began to sob. “Hey, hey,” Sam spoke softly as he knelt next to you on the ground. “Sweetheart, look at me, it’s Sammy.”

Sam froze when you flinched away from his touch, but he didn’t back down.

“Hey, c’mon.” Sam took hold of your hands, gently prying them away from your ears.

“No!” You sobbed. “Don’t, don’t!”

“Commere,” Sam sighed as he pulled you into his arms, his chin resting on your head as he rocked you back and forth. “Come on sweetheart, come back to me.”

“S-Sam?” Sam breathed a sigh of relief when you opened your eyes and spoke to him.

“Hey, hey it’s me, it’s ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed as you fisted his shirt, clinging to him.

“No, hey, don’t apologize. I-I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m sorry.”

“Baby,” Dean spoke softly as he leaned down to look at you. “What was that?”

Sam felt you shift as you turned your head against his chest, unwilling to look at Dean.

“No,” you whimpered.

“What?” Dean reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok, you can talk to me.”

“No!” Sam’s heart ached at the sound of your sobbing as you burrowed closer to him.

“Ok, ok,” Dean said as he backed away. “I…I’m gonna go start the car,” Dean looked at Sam. “Just…bring her out when she’s ready.” Dean left, knowing he couldn’t help. This was something Sam had to fix.

“You have to talk to me,” Sam pleaded. “Kid, you’re scaring me.”

“Y-you have to promise me.” Sam felt you pull away from him, and he looked down into your eyes. “You can’t tell Dad or Dean. And-and you can’t make me go back.” Sam stiffened when you started to cry again. “I-I can’t go back.”

“Shh, shh,” Sam pulled you close again as he whispered. “Ok, ok I promise honey. What’s got you so scared?”

“You-you just…you reminded me of-of someone, and I got-I got scared.”

“Who?” Sam pulled away again to look at you. “Who did I remind you of? Did this person hurt you?”

“M-my…” Sam swallowed as you took a deep breath before speaking. “My stepfather.”

“You don’t have a…” Sam’s voice trailed off at the look on your face. “You have a stepfather? But I thought-“

“I didn’t want dad to know, because I-I had to get away.”

“You chose monsters over this guy?” Your silence was all the answer Sam needed. “And…and I reminded you…” Sam swallowed. “Honey, you-you know I wasn’t trying to scare you, right? I just…” Sam shook his head. “Sweetie you scared us so bad. I thought those vamps had…”

“No,” you insisted. “I-I know you didn’t mean it, I just-just got scared. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sam said as he shifted. “Are you ready to go?”

“Y-you won’t tell anyone, will you?” You looked up at Sam as the two of you stood, and his stomach twisted at the fear in your eyes.

“Commere,” he sighed, pulling you close. “You’re family, kid. We would never send you back to him, never. But I’ll keep it a secret, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, I promise,” Sam said as he pulled away. “Now c’mon.”

Sam kept his arm around your shoulders as he led you out towards the car.

“I’m sorry,” Sam spoke again just before you reached the Impala. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“It’s ok,” you leaned closer to your big brother as you spoke. “I-I know you’re not like him.”

“If you ever want to tell us about him…we’re here, kid. You can trust us, always.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted, sticking his head out the window of the Impala. “Are we all good?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “We’re all good.”

[hemlock-dreams]

I love MJ. Peter must have really been devastated by her being affected when he was outed as Spider-Man. I have a few questions! You mentioned in the original universe she had a relapse — was it just the same universe changes that made Peter a criminal that caused there to be an MJ that was an addict? Would the venom have caused her to die in a while like most people, or no because Peter became her supplier and had presumably good control? Wouldn’t she have known the reasons he had hesitated to kiss long eventually, since he had to tell her everything to help with the venom thing? And does his venom just… come out automatically after a bit with anything, or is it possible for him to have situations where it’s not involved at all for a time? I’m sure he misses her and usually MJ and Peter are friends before they get together in many canons, so I’m really happy that he’s able to be her friend in the new universe and didn’t lose her entirely 🥺 even if he basically had to reform the relationship from scratch. (Also if Peter and Marko were such good friends, why was he willing to put him and his loved ones in danger by telling everyone?) all of this is very cool and fun ty for sharing.

So OG-MJ was an addict before she ever knew Peter(and before everything with the knock off venom.) She had been sober for two years at that point, and continued to stay sober for a few years after she and Peter officially got together.

However, Peter was always gone, flaking on all their special dates/anniversaries etc. He'd make plans and then never show up, or cancel at the last minute. And despite being super affectionate with his words, was always really physically distant. All of this left MJ feeling really alone and angry, as she was dealing with her own abandonment issues (foster care).

Eventually, everything was just a perfect storm of frustration (struggling with her boss, Peter flaking on another date, a new job opportunity not coming through) that she ended up reconnecting with some old friends who convinced her to try 'this sick new upper'.

The issue with manufactured venom (gonna call it Aurora) is that in it's impurity, it had extremely degenerative effects at lower doses. Peter's venom, while just as bad, was 'cleaner'. He can secrete it at will, but his body starts automatically pumping it when he gets excited (not to mention his fangs do not retract!!!) (They are very sharp!!!)

As for Marko, he'd been Sandman for a while before he revealed Spiderman's identity. Not only was he mentally very unstable, but he'd been very bitter over Peter going 'straight'. They were supposed to be ride or die, but Peter kept drifting away and eventually cut ties with him when it was obvious that Marko was never going to leave the lifestyle.

Then one day, during a fight with Spiderman Marko just...recognized the body language, the words, just...something clicked, then broke. Because not only did Peter leave Marko, the guy who had his back all those years in prison, his supposed 'ride or die' was also fucking Spiderman. The guy who had been actively fucking up Marko's life for years. The enemy.

Payback was an easy decision for a guy who held tight to grudges.

And for the kicker, he didn't even sell the information, just gave it to JJ for free-- that's how much he wanted to hurt Peter. Later, he would really regret it, but it would be too late at that point.

After Marko threw Peter's life into the fire, he and MJ had a blowout fight. At the height of it, MJ told Peter to 'prove he loved her' and used her own addiction as a way to control his time and attention after being starved for so long (kind of holding herself hostage).

Yeah...it all kind of went to real shit after Lmaoo

Once again, thank you SO much for the support and all these amazing asks!! <3 <3

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Naga boyfriend head cannons

Gender neutral reader

Warnings:light NSFW, brief mention of kink choking, biting, mentions of eating rodents, snakes

Minors Don't Interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You are his personal heater I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Your body is warm and he wants that warm. It's a bonus that it comes from you, he loves you.

Ha you have cold hands? So does he don't worry about it.

Oh you have warm hands? Let him hold them. Hold his face in your hands he will melt into them this poor touch starved man.

At the start of the relationship he couldn't stand you touching him. It wasn't that he hated when you touched him oh no no no he absolutely loves when you touch him. He's just scared he's not used to being touched so gently before and he's terrified that he'll hurt you with his large size and not realize it. It doesn't help that once he started to get sexual feelings for you everytime you touched hin turned him on. Your pinkie could have lightly grazed his shoulder and he would hve grown aroused.

Further into the relationship he knows how much you can handle you and will absolutely man handle you. You'll be walking past him and he'll use his tail to swoop you in so he can cuddle you. He still gets turned on real easy but it's more tame now. Doesn't mean he won't be tame when having sex though.

Home boy is kinky will choke you if your also into and biting is a must. If it's agreed too and he's not venomous he'd love to bite you, really sink his fangs in. There will be times you'll be completely wrapped up in his tail will he fucks you.

If you manage to top him he'll be leaning on his own tail draped out on it begging and panting. He didn't know he could be so sensitive before.

Times he's being a grumpy pants he'll snap right out of it if told you'd top him. Instant good mood.

Whenever it gets even slightly cold he's super clingy. Will do grabby hands at you until you set down whatever your working on and come cuddle him.

Owns 700 heating blanket, hope one or both of you have a good paying job cause the electric bill is oit if this world.

Don't insult him by offering to feed him mice or rats thats gross. Guinea pigs have more meat on them any way. Just give him a BLT you weirdo he eats normal foods.

Hates broccoli though. Introduce him to cheesy broccoli and it's a whole new ball park for him.

Will be so confused on why you have a pet reptile, doesn't see the appeal.

Pet snake you say? Your mistake that's your guys child. Will refer to as himself as dad when talking to the snake.

"Now Junior be a good boy for dad and let me change out your water. Junior? Junior please get out of your water... Yes I see you blowing bubbles it's very cute."

The snakes name isn't junior he just keeps calling him junior.

Will get himself a shirt saying number one dad and wear it any time he picks the snake up.

Loves soaking in the tub, join him he'll love it.

He'll wash your hair and die from bliss if you wash his it feels so good.

Shedding is a cranky embarrassing time for him please be patient he's feeling very uncomfortable. If it's early in the relationship he won't want you near him, it's not you it's him he's not comfortable enough to have anyone bear him during this vulnerable time. If it is further into the relationship he'll be more comfortable with you being around him but just don't get to close to him, just be there for emotional support. Now if the relationship is a good amount of years in he'll act all spoiled asking you to peal his shed off for him after he soaked for a few hours at the least. He'll get all whinny and clingy demanding cuddles and snacks.

Bundling in a ball with way to many heated blankets on, this man is a fire hazard. Fire men hate him.

Can't cook for shit. Will order every meal out if you let him. Hates doing the dishes but he's good at vacuuming and dusting. Likes tidying up, not a fan of messes. He'll make sure he does his fair share of the chores and if he sees your having a bad day he'll take on more chores. Will buy your your favorite foods and snacks in hopes of making you feel better.

[hanzajesthanza]

Andrzej Sapkowski - interview for Inny Świat, July 2003

IŚ: Do you ever find yourself guided by sentiments when developing the plot? Do you have reservations about killing off a beloved character or do you consider only the goodness and truthfulness of the story being told? Have you felt sorry for any of Geralt's team members? Andrzej Sapkowski: I completely fail to understand where there is room for regret here. Or for sentiments. Since this is not the first time I have heard such a question, I will answer with a counter-question. Do you really think that my plot plans, the development of the action that I assumed, could have included something that did NOT happen in the plot? That, for example, I planned in the initial phase of writing that the archer Milva would fall in love with the vampire Regis, and that the feeling would be mutual, that they would get married in the end and have lots of children, vampires who were accurate shooters with bows. And then suddenly, while writing - bang! Clink! Thud! The pen moved, Milva was dead, the vampire was dead. Pity, oh my, oh my, terrible pity. Oh, what a pity. And it was going so well! Do you really not notice the downright ridiculousness here? Do you? So why the hell do you keep asking the same ridiculous questions?

i just keep thinking:

the most ridiculous thing sapkowski could think of on the spot as an example of something stupid that he would not ever plan to write was milva x regis

the idea of this crackship taking place is just about as ridiculous as the concept of them not dying

further explanation: "the hanza is platonic friends and also they are doomed to die together forever what don't you understand about that"

i have something to share with the class

[feyascorner]

9 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh, love.”

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink. 

Has he always looked at you like this?

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. officially in act 2 so there's like a few weeks of a timeskip!!!! finally getting to that blurry line between hatred and...wtv they are

also praying the tags work this time

“Wake up,” you whisper. “Wake up, Astarion.”

His body shakes as you pull him closer to your chest, ignoring how cold his skin feels against yours. There’s nothing out here except the two of you and the blissful gaze of the moon glimmering against all the other stars in the sky. Here, it’s as if nothing else exists.

Yet, the nightmares continue to haunt him.

“Cazador, he’ll come for us. He’ll come for you. He’ll make me watch as you die and laugh at my agony before he tosses me into that damned prison again for another year. Maybe even more,” he rasps. “Gods, you were so–there was so much blood—your blood—and all I could smell was–”

You shush him, running your hand through white curls. The sensation seems to calm him just the slightest. “He’s not here. I’m alive, and so are you. See?”

Gently, you raise his palm to where your heart rests and wait patiently for him to come back to you again. He melts into the steady thumping of your heart, shoulders slowly relaxing. It takes some time, but eventually, his panting slows, and he slumps into your touch. When you pull him close again, he shakes his head.

“I’ll kill him for what he’s done to me and what he could do to you.”

You answer him by intertwining your fingers with his own. In response, he tightens his arms around your waist.

“I’m going to love watching him scream.”

Crashing onto the ground does little for your already trembling knees.

“Again.”

Weeks have passed since your last uncomfortable encounter with Astarion, and you’d much prefer to keep it that way. And while things have mostly smoothed over with your companions, the obvious issue of the spawn remains a concern, though the murders have decreased significantly in passing times. You’re grateful there aren’t as many bodies, but it also makes you wonder what’s preventing them from killing as many as they did. Fear it, even.

Lae’zel’s wooden sword wipes you off your feet again, and you land face-first into the grass. Embarrassment floods your cheeks despite there being nobody else in the park.

“You’ve gotten rusty, istik.”

Clambering onto your knees, you grip your own sword to stabilize yourself. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s gotten significantly better?”

“Flattery won’t save you on a battlefield, bard.”

“‘Was-bard,’” you correct her, using the sword to bounce back onto your heels. “And I think it’s saved us more than a few times. Remember that time I persuaded Yurgir to kill all his friends before we killed him?”

“A silver tongue has no use if the enemy is deaf,” she lunges at you, and you barely manage to stumble out of the way.

You hiss. “Why the hell would I be fighting a deaf enemy? And can you please warn me before you try to stab me?”

“There are no warnings in a real battle.”

“We’re not in real battle!”

She ignores you and lunges once more without warning.

You land on your ass again and again until you’re sure there’s a nasty bruise on half of your legs. There’s not enough time to register the soreness spreading to your knees, however, because by the time you’re up, she’s already coming at you again. It’s hopeless, you think, blocking another attack. Just as you’re about to give up and admit defeat, you see an opportunity in her stance. Seemingly laid back with how miserably you’re failing, you take it as a weakness and practically pounce at the opportunity to launch at her in return for your own bruises.

By some miracle, it lands.

She doesn’t fall as pathetically as you did, but she stumbles.

“Have you lost your touch, Lae’zel?”

You whip your head around to the voice where Shadowheart is under the shade of a tree, a letter gripped in her fingers. She paces closer to you and your opponent, raising a brow at the state you’re in. “Was it really necessary to beat them so harshly?”

“It worked, didn’t it? They managed to hit me,” Lae’zel scoffs, a hint of pride in her tone.

“Well, as wonderful of a time it is to watch you fight one another like beasts,” Shadowheart rolls her eyes, lifting the letter. “Tav and I need to get new clothes tailored, it seems.”

Lae’zel snatches the letter before you can take a look, her eyes scanning over the words before shooting to you. “A celebration?”

“A ball, more like,” the cleric steals the sheet right back, handing it to you. “In our honor, of course, for defeating the elder brain. About time we received something in return.”

You only briefly glance at the words printed on the letter. “This is too much.”

Both heads turn to you inquisitively. “I thought you’d be ecstatic for something like this. I recall you always used to sing about the songs people would make about your adventures.”

“That was ages ago,” you sigh, but Lae’zel doesn’t seem much happier either.

“They choose to celebrate while the city’s citizens are being picked off like prey by spawn? No wonder its inhabitants have turned out so puny,” she glances at you while she speaks. You contemplate rolling your eyes, though you’d rather not get knocked on your ass again.

“You and Gale can go tomorrow. I made reservations at the tailor for all of us, but Figaro says he can only take two a day,” Shadowheart tells Lae’zel. “You wouldn’t mind if I took your punching bag for a few hours, would you?”

“Tchk. I have the wizard as another target if need be.”

She tosses her braid over her shoulder as she nods. “Great. Let’s hurry then.”

They don’t give you much room to protest in the matter, already having made up their minds—not that you were going to object in the first place. You’re honored, really, that the city finds you impressive enough to throw a celebration in your honor, and you know your companions are more than deserving of it, too. But it’s as Lae’zel said.

There’s another battle brewing under the city, in its shadows, and in plain sight, yet you can’t do anything about it. It’s not like the elder brain. Killing the brain itself was enough to rid of the mind flayers, but in this case, killing one spawn only leads to hunting 7000 more. Most of which are being lied to by Astarion’s siblings.

You shake your head to rid of the thoughts. No. You deserve this. You went through hell and back with that bloody parasite in your head, so hells be damned if you can have one bloody night to yourself. One that doesn’t consist of consistently worrying about whether another body will drop dead while you sleep blissfully in the walls of your own home. You need this after all you’ve been through.

Still…

The silence as you walk alongside Shadowheart makes you cringe.

It’s not like she’s angry at you, nor are you at her. You understand her reactions toward Astarion, and you like to think that she does too. But with how things ended with him last time, your interactions with the cleric have grown increasingly curt, with short conversations baring down to the bare necessities. You’ve tried to speak with her, but each time the two of you are alone, the guilt gnaws away at your stomach—your confidence along with it.

This time, you swear. This time you’ll apologize.

“Shadowhea-”

“I shouldn’t have done it.”

You blink. Twice.

She doesn’t look at you, continuing to stride through the city streets. “It was unfair of me to blow up at you for letting Astarion feed. It wasn’t my choice, and I know that. I was only…”

You wait for her to continue, increasing the speed of your footsteps to catch up.

“...It was a selfish reason,” she mutters. “I did not want to lose you to him again. I’ve seen you the last time he hurt you, and you were practically a stranger to all of us. Even with defeating the elder brain, you didn’t seem happy in the slightest. He ruined so much that I—-I instinctively tried to make a decision that I have no control over.”

“It won’t happen again. Lying, I mean,” you blurt immediately. “I’ve learned, as hard as it might be to believe. I don’t want to drift from you again, either. I’m just sorry it took so long to bring this up.”

“I’m in no place to complain. It took weeks for me to understand how in the hells your thought process seems to work…And how you manage to make such bad decisions that somehow have a knack for working out,” she purses her lips. “I still don’t understand. Not completely. But I do also trust you know what you’re doing.”

You don’t know what you’re doing, but you think it’s better to avoid telling her that.

She smiles, and you already feel lighter. “It’s a miracle I’m alive, to be honest.”

“It really is. Trust me, I’d know,” she snorts in return.

“I do have quite the skilled healer at my side, which helps.”

Shadowheart stops in front of Figaro’s store, glancing back at you. You hadn’t even realized the two of you had walked this far, but she shrugs with a smug grin as she pushes through the door.

“Whatever would you do without me?”

You’ve searched the Blushing Mermaid at least a dozen times over now, in case you missed any of Dalyria’s things that might aid you in your search for the other siblings. Despite the tavern owners blocking the entrance, a simple mage hand or two was enough to pry open the wooden boards nailed to the basement door.  It’s been nearly three times now that you’ve come up empty-handed, but what harm could a fourth try do? Sure, you’ve scrummaged her desk seven times alone, but perhaps you might have missed a drawer or two…

The stillness of the night is disturbed as you lift the hatch leading to the basement, waving away the dust that flies into your face. You pocket Dalyria’s journal and begin your descent downward. The humidity hits your cheeks, and you sigh, swallowing your distaste for the crumbling lair to resume your investigation without any distractions. You expect another endless night of useless rummaging through the Hag’s old things and some of Dalyria’s own belongings, but doing nothing would weigh too heavily on your conscious.

Just as you enter the actual lair, you find that you are not alone.

A blond man stands on the other side, his back turned to you as he searches the desk you’ve already looked over multiple times.

Petras.

Sure, you’ve been searching for him for quite a while now, but for him to just waltz into you like this? You’re not sure if you’re insanely lucky or simply unlucky for not having stumbled into him until now. He remains unaware of your presence, and you take the opportunity to reach for your knife, willing your footsteps to feel lighter to avoid detection. Another skill a certain rogue taught you at a certain point, but never mind that.

The floorboard creaks under your weight.

Dammit. You’ve never been as good as he was.

He whips around, immediately on the defense. But as soon as he spots you, his shoulder relaxes, a scowl falling as he blinks. “Oh. You.”

Embarrassment burns in your cheeks, feeling like a child who’s been caught stealing an extra sweet from the cookie jar. Still, you straighten your back, shifting so he can’t see the knife clenched in your hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering when I’d see Astarion’s pet again,” he ignores your question, stepping away from the desk toward you. It makes your body tense. “You’ve been up to quite a lot since the last time we spoke, haven’t you? I hear you nearly captured my sister.”

“I’m not his pet,” you snap, more harshly than you intended. He raises a brow. 

“Fine. His blood bank.”

Your sharp glare is enough to send him your sentiments.

“Not a very willing blood bank, I see.”

“What are you doing here, Petras?” you finally snap.

He ignores you again, and this time, you contemplate chucking the knife at his head. “How’s my brother doing? Horrible, I hope.”

“He’s fine,” you retort through gritted teeth. It’s the nicest thing you can conjure up at the moment. “We would be doing better if you weren’t making a bloodbath of the city.”

“You nearly killed my sister as well.”

“Your sister is the one that attacked us after she said she was going to kidnap Astarion like he’s some sort of object. What was I supposed to do?”

“Well, I can’t blame you. She’s always been stubborn,” he shrugs. “But I am disappointed you chose to take my brother’s side after all he’s done to you. I would pity you, really, if you hadn’t gone and killed almost four of us already.”

“You can’t blame me for self-defense.”

Petras frowns. “Tell me, why didn’t you take our deal?”

“What?”

He paces a few steps toward you, standing at the platform of the lair while you stare up at him in bewilderment. “We’ve been watching you for an extended period of time now. We offered you everything you could possibly gain from a deal like this one, and you still rejected it. You’d get rid of us and keep the city safe. All the while, you’d never have to see my brother again. Dalyria says it barely seemed to phase you. I want to know why.”

“It’s—” you trip over your own tongue. You don’t even know why you feel obligated to answer him. “It just felt right at the time.”

“What kind of half-baked answer is that?”

“I answered your question, didn't I? Now answer mine.”

Petras furrows his brows, glancing at Dalyria’s desk behind him. “I take it you know what we plan to do?”

You purse your lips, and it’s enough of an answer for him.

“I wanted to take Astarion by force, personally. But Leon and Dalyria…they’ve grown considerably soft after Cazador left,” he rolls his eyes at the thought, crossing his arms. “...A shame. That kind of fragility won’t get them anywhere in this world. Those fools are destined to die or to live at the bottom of the barrel, forever feeding on city rats.”

The way he speaks of his siblings makes your stomach churn.

“You’re a bigger fool if you think I’m going to let you go through with the ascension,” you hiss. “You’ll kill all those spawns. They’ve put their trust in you to lead them, and you’re lying straight to their faces as if their lives aren’t worth the crap on your shoes–”

“And how did things turn out the last time you tried to stop the ascension?”

This makes your throat go dry.

“Take this as our last warning, bard. Or else we’ll come and take him ourselves.”

“He’s your brother,” you blurt in exasperation, waving your hand in disbelief. “You can’t possibly want to kill him, even if he’s an asshole from time to time! Cazador is gone. You’re free! There’s nothing else to run away from!”

You don’t know why you’re defending him.

But it pours out of your chest, and you already know trying to choke it back up won’t reverse what’s already been said.

With your words seemingly going in one ear and out the other, Petras clenches his fist at his side and glowers down at you with a sharp inhale. Despite his attempts to appear composed, you can see the vein bulging from his forehead, threatening to burst if you push him any longer. “He stopped being my brother the second he tried to ascend.”

“Still—”

“He attempted to kill the rest of us for the sake of his own wellbeing. What makes him any different than Cazador himself?” he argues. “Cazador always took a special interest in Astarion. I see now that it’s because they’re so similar. In life or in death.”

For some strange reason, this makes your blood burn.

You can hear Astarion’s gasps as his master’s nightmarish toll awoke you both on those starry nights when the parasite still swam in your heads. How cold he’d felt in your arms, rasping into your chest as you calmed him. White curls brushed against your hand as you pulled him close. You’ve never wished to the gods for much, but in that moment, you begged them to let him forget. To give you something—anything—to soothe the trembling of his hands.

Astarion could have been like Cazador. He’d come dangerously close to becoming the very monster that tortured him for centuries, but he hadn’t. Whether it was voluntary or not, it doesn’t matter because, at the end of the day, he isn’t Cazador. And you plan to keep it that way as long as your fingers can still clutch your blade.

“I was planning on paying you a visit,” Petras says, catching your attention once more as he slips out a scroll from his sleeve. “Though I suppose you’ve made this easier on the both of us…especially if you die here.”

You take a step toward him, heels digging into the ground. “If you think I’ll just—”

“If you’ll only get in my way, then I have no problem with watching you perish.”

With a shout, the scroll glows a lime green, and a long groan echoes from the bodies scattered throughout the room.

Shit.

The spawn adjusts his hood back around his head, sparing you a pitiful stare. “You’ve chosen your side, and it's the one that's destined to lose. Good luck, bard…I hope your death isn’t as painful as it could have been at Astarion’s hands.”

And just as the undead begins to crawl toward you with an agonizing screech, he puffs up into a cloud of red smoke and vanishes.

You need a bath. Terribly.

Barely scraping out with your life, you can’t say you’re a pleasing person to look at with the dirt and blood smeared across your body. The sleeve of your shirt is torn open, and while a few healing potions have done the trick to heal most of your injuries, the more minor splits and cuts remain an insistent reminder of the war you’ve just declared with the vampire spawns.

Well, they’re the ones who declared it, but the point stands.

You manage to wash out a lot of the blood by the time you return home, praying your disheveled state can’t be seen with the effort you’ve put in to look presentable. Your worries are put to rest, however, when you realize just how late it’s gotten into the night, as all your companions remain blissfully asleep as you limp into the house, barely able to stand upright.

Everything is a blur. How you managed to fight off a dozen undead is a mystery to you, but it’s not unwelcome. At least there’s nobody here to scold you.

But even that, you realize, is a false sense of security when you sense him from the stairs. You’ve learned not to anticipate any creak in the floorboard when he’s the one pacing on them. Rather, you’ve learned to expect a concerning bloodthirsty presence and two eyes boring into the back of your head as if you’ve grown another head. It eventually becomes easy to sense his aura even from across the living room.

You hope the darkness conceals the bruises on your body. “What do you want?”

“You’re bleeding again,” he says, and it’s not a question. “I could smell it from upstairs.”

A scoff. “What are you? A dog?”

Astarion doesn’t bother responding to your snide comment, coming closer. You can finally see his expression in a daze as he approaches your vicinity. He’s present, but not really, as his focus shifts from you to your hand to your face again repeatedly as if he’s unsure what he’s even doing here.

You’d recognize his mannerisms anywhere.

“Are you drunk?”

“I recall you saying you were visiting the tavern.”

“I was at the tavern.”

He barks a laugh. “My dear, you can tell as many pretty lies to the others but not to me. I can see right through your little game like an open book.”

Curse him.

“I asked you a question first,” you opt to change the subject, remaining firm. “How much did you drink?”

“I didn’t break any rules, as far as I’m aware,” his words slur messily as he leans against the wall, a pink hue spread across his cheeks. “I just drank…a tiny bit more than usual.”

He’s most undoubtedly tipsy, at the very least.

Astarion pushes himself off the wall and toward you, where he squints down at you with what you assume to be some variation of curiosity. His eyes do not hold the usual hostility they usually do, somewhat clouded in a mist of relaxation that’s dangerously close to overflowing. You inch backward.

“Your turn,” he breathes. “Why are you bleeding?”

While you were out risking your life, the bastard must’ve been having the time of his life if the unsteadiness of his steps is any indication. You bite the inside of your cheek bitterly.

“I met Petras just now…more like ambushed, actually,” you respond, pacing the kitchen to wipe off the dirt staining your elbows. You pour yourself a glass of water, but the second it touches your lips, you flinch, the split on your lip still too new to be challenged. So, instead, you set the glass down, eyeing the way he mindlessly stares at you without a thought running through his mind.

Still, he’s giddier than usual, snorting at the state you’re in. “You couldn’t have possibly lost to my brother. He has muscle but barely any wit.”

You remain silent, and his smile grows wider. “Oh! You really let the bastard get away. Well, isn’t this a surprise! Excuse my error; perhaps you aren’t as invincible as I pegged you to be.”

“He caught me off guard.” Hot discomfort courses through your veins.

“Pish posh,” he waves you off, teetering in your direction. “It’s no good if you refuse to admit defeat, my dear. It’ll come back to bite you in the behind later.”

You watch with half-lidded eyes, unmoving from your spot beside the counter as he scrummages around the cabinets for nothing other than the very substance that’s reduced him to this pitiful state. Ironic, you know, considering the tavern had practically been your home only a few months prior. “How did you even get drunk? There isn’t nearly enough blood here for that.”

His face brightens when he finds what he’s been searching for. He uncorks the glass bottle and inhales the stench of blood. While it makes you scrunch your nose, he sighs dreamily, shoulder going slack. “Gale accompanied my hunt again, and I managed to find not one but two bloody bears. One of which was oh so gratefully already wounded. You can be smart when you want to be; I’m sure you can imagine the rest.”

You don’t want to imagine it, actually.

“I think you’ve had enough,” you pluck the bottle from his hands, and his expression immediately falls. He almost looks like a kicked puppy. It makes your chest swell with pride.

“Why? Would you rather I drink from you?” he tries to reach for it, but you step out of the way. “As enticing as that sounds, I’ve already had my fill of exotic blood for tonight. All I need is the dessert to top off the feast I’ve had, and I’ll be satiated for at least a few days.”

You glare at him. “You’re already drunk, you don’t need anymore.”

“But I want more,” he slurs again, and you attempt to move the bottle behind your back, but his hand is already expecting this maneuver. With embarrassing ease, the bottle slips into his grasp, and he takes a long sip of blood while forgetting how you remain caged against the counter, arms blocking any sort of exit you can take to slip away.

You can count his eyelashes from this distance.

He lifts his hand to wipe at his mouth, and much to your relief, you manage to escape the suffocating feeling of being surrounded by him. His scent, his voice, just everything. You close your fists, itching to retreat into the comforts of your own bedroom rather than continue to watch his focus zone in and out until narrowing down on you. “Are you done?”

“Mm, it’s sweet, but not sweet enough. It’s not quite a dessert, I’m afraid.”

“You don’t even like sweet things,” you scoff. You don’t know why you remember this. You shouldn’t remember this. It’s not even your concern anymore.

He stares at you. “I make exceptions.”

Unwillingly to figure out the implications of his words (and whether or not it comes off as a threat), you run a hand through your hair and sigh. “Petras seems hell-bent on kidnapping you.”

“Let him try. The poor fool wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us, much less all of us simultaneously. At least it’ll make for quite a show.”

“And let him kill more people in the process?”

Astarion tilts his head, albeit only slightly. He lacks the usual polish of his charm. “Ah, we couldn’t dare allow a few unlucky souls to perish. It’s not like the inevitable fate of death is waiting for them anyway.”

Sarcasm dripping from his tongue, you decide he’s not nearly sober enough to talk about this. He’s barely keeping himself upright with his arms perched on either side of the counter. He’s close enough that the scent of blood muddles all of your other senses. The softness in his eyes makes you squirm, and the small voice in your head that is your intuition screams for you to get away before…well, you’re not sure what, but it’s what it’s telling you.

“Go to bed,” you order him, though it sounds more like a plea. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“The night’s only begun, though.”

The answer spews out immediately. “I miss to see where that’s my problem.”

Rather than taking offense, he merely smiles. “You’re so harsh to me, love.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the nickname catches you off guard. It’s one he hasn’t called you since…everything. One that you’ve learned to bury into whatever corner you can find in your memories, hoping never to see them again. For a split moment, you can feel your resolve falter. Still, you refuse to show him what a simple word does to you and steel your will to leave this for a proper time when you’re both not nearly delirious. One from blood and the other from a battle.

“I wouldn’t be harsh if you didn’t deserve it.”

“I’m aware.” His voice lowers. “Though I rather like it when you’re cruel to me.”

You blink. 

Has he always looked at you like this?

He’s not just drunk, you reason. He’s completely wasted.

“Astarion,” you lean away. “You’re drunk.”

He ignores your warnings with a click of his tongue. “My mind is clearer than it's ever been after I got that damn parasite out of my head.”

His delirious expression says otherwise.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh irritably. “Whatever game you’re playing, I want none of it. I’m tired, so just leave me be, will you? Get out of my way.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“You’re the one blocking me from leaving!” you fume, pointing at his arm.

“That’s not what I mean. You’re…” he sighs, dropping his head wearily. “…you’re no different than that parasite, come to think of it.”

Appalled, you just gawk at him, jaw agape. “Please tell me I did not just hear you say that.”

He laughs, throwing his head back as he straightens his back. His arms fall back to his side, providing you just enough space to squeeze out of the way, but you find yourself staring up at him as he recollects himself. “It’s rather frustrating. I suppose, at the very least, unlike that worm, you’re a pretty thing to look at.”

What in the hells is going on?

First, he calls you a parasite and then proceeds to flatter you barely two seconds later, having nothing but hazy blurs in that thick skull of his. You wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to kill you again next. In fact, you think it’s probably best to retreat now when you can—even if he’s gazing down at you as if he expects an answer to his previous statement.

You should leave.

Your legs remain rooted in place.

You should definitely leave.

“Call me that again, and I’ll install bars on your windows,” you grumble, only half meaning it. Mainly because it would be a hassle to build. “Just go, Astarion. I don’t want to speak with you.”

“Convince me.”

You quirk a brow. “What?”

“Convince me that you don’t want me here,” he says firmly. “Then I’ll leave.”

Gods, has he lost it?

“Are you serious?”

“Am I ever not? I may deceive you, but I always take you seriously. You must know this.”

Barely stopping yourself from punching that smug smile off his face, your brows furrow. And with gritted teeth, you hiss. “Well, for one, you stink of blood.”

“What a pleasant fragrance indeed.”

“Two,” you continue. “You’re barely standing on both feet, which tells me you aren’t in any position to discuss what I want to right now—which, by the way, is your own damn brother.”

He hums.

“Three, you’re an asshole.”

“Very convincing, darling.”

“So I’ve heard,” you snap, rolling your eyes. “Do I need to say more?”

Astarion steps closer, making your shoulders tense. “Tell me more about how I’m an asshole.”

The blood he drank must contain some sort of drug, surely.

“You leave bottles all over the living room,” you begin, and slowly, the words begin to spill out as if they’ve been waiting to be thrown at him for a while now. “You don’t help clean at all. You make jokes only you find funny. You fight with Shadowheart all the time, and it makes everyone uncomfortable. You walk around at three in the morning and scare the crap out of me just because I wanted some water.”

He nods. “Go on.”

“You’re always sneaking out, even though we tell you not to. You don’t even tell us where you’re going and then get surprised when Lae’zel wants to execute you again! You come home at bizarre times, and the hallway smells like blood all the time, and—and—-” You’re rambling now, you realize, but you’re too exhausted to give a rat’s ass about it. So instead, you push a finger into his chest pointedly, scowling. “---you’re just not pleasant to be around. You’re the biggest asshole I’ve met, and trust me when I’ve met a lot of assholes. I’d rather all of them than you.”

Astarion’s lashes flutter as his gaze flits across your face. “Is that so?”

With narrowed eyes, your fists tighten. “Hells, I don’t even know why I’m here with you because I should’ve been at the tavern sleeping with some other random bastard by now if your damn brother didn’t-”

Suddenly, the breath in your lungs is knocked out as the back of your hips bumps against the counter, knocking over your glass of water.

Before you can discern whatever emotions are being evoked by his lack of awareness, the already minimal distance between the two of you closes as he smashes his lips against yours. It’s harsh. Fueled by hatred, it’s by no means a pleasant show of affection. It burns, sending sparks throughout your entire body as you sink into his touch, feeling the full force of the smallest of movements; he seems dangerously close to what you might describe as desperate.

Unable to fully process what’s happening, you only stand there, stock still.

Your eyes might fall out of its sockets with how wide they are.

He’s kissing you. 

Astarion is kissing you.

And instinctively, your body, if for a split moment, kisses back.

What. The. Fuck.

Thankfully, you’re quick to realize what’s happening, and you abruptly shove him away, stumbling in the process. It seems he’s sobered up on his end because he appears just as shocked as you are, the blood staining his pretty lips being the only proof that the kiss did indeed happen. He blinks rapidly, first trying to take in your expression. You don’t think you’ve seen him this lost in ages. But that's not your concern right now.

He starts. “Darling, I–”

Your fist punches into his stomach, and he reels.

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer

[v4mpch4nni3]

🔞• “~vampire!chan..x..human!reader~”

warning: mentions of blood-marking-fingering-oral (f rec)-mentions of sex

sypnosis: your boyfriend runs out of blood. You’re the last resort, but things get a little out of hand

Chan hears the front door shut and he slowly gets out of bed. He stumbles and sees you hanging your coat and purse on the coat rack. Your eyes shift to his figure, he looks pale. Too pale.

"Channie? What's wrong? Are you okay?” You asked in concern.

"Ugh, No. I ran out blood in the morning." He croaked.

You looked at your watch and realized it was around dinner time. You knew this was prime feeding time for him. You unbuttoned the two top buttons of your blouse.

"Just use me." You offered, but he quickly declined.

"No. I'm not going to feed off of you. That hurts." He explained in a gentle matter but you were stubborn. "I can take it." but the reassurance didn't make him budge. He was persistent. "No, I mean it hurts bad."

"Chan. I don't want you to die. Just do it.”

“Alright, you asked for it.” Chan put his head in the crook of your neck. The next thing you felt was his fangs prodding at the skin on your neck. He finally sunk his teeth into your neck. You let out of shriek of pain. As he pulled away he gave you a look of ‘I told you so.’

“Sorry, you didn’t warn me.” you blamed him.

He went back to business. As he did so, you felt a sense of neediness. It suddenly felt hot and you felt a rush of blood to your cheeks. Chan’s grip on your hips tightened as he sucked harder.

“mmm..” you hummed.

You couldn’t figure out if he was feeding of you or marking you. He pulled away and you saw nothing but lust and neediness in his eyes. You then closed the space between you two and put your arms around his neck to play with his curls. You felt him bite your lip with one of his fangs. You tasted the blood in the kiss. You wanted him. Needed him. His hands traveled from your hips to the curve of your ass. As Chan’s lip moved against yours he felt a sense of hunger. He needed way more than what he had.

His hands cradled your ass as he picked you up and stumbled his way to your shared bedroom. He threw you onto the bed and pounced on you.

“Ch-Chan.. Hold on.” you told him as you pushed him away.

His hands traveled to the remaining buttons that were closed on your blouse. He then tapped your hips signaling to lift them so he could take off your dress pants. As he fumbled with your pants, you took the time to unbuckle your bra. You got it off and threw it somewhere in the room.

“Lord, you’re a goddess.” he breathed out.

You blushed and tried to hide yourself. He grabbed your wrists and dismissed them away from your breasts. His hand then went lower to your cunt. He dipped his fingers in and felt how wet you were.

“Does my baby love when I feed off of her? Hm?” he teased. His hand finally found your entrance and he started to pump in and out of you. A string of moans left your lips. He pulled away and got up.

“Channie~ Come back.” you whined but he ignored as he unbuttoned his shirt.

After he was done, he walked to the edge of the bed and grabbed your ankles. He yanked them so you were sitting on the edge. He got on his knees and peppered kisses down your leg to your ankle. He spread your legs for an easy entrance. After that he sank his fangs in your inner thigh. You entangled your fingers into his curls and gave him and massage. He groaned in pleasure as he continued on your thigh. He pulled away and a drop of blood dripped down your thing before he licked it up

Some moments later he dove into your cunt. He ate you out like a starved man. He licked a long stripe up your cunt. He then flicked his tongue on your clit. You couldn’t contain the moans that were spilling from your lips.

Chan drove his tongue in and out of your cunt and massaged your thighs. You felt your orgasm barreling towards you. He could tell by the way your legs were closing around his head, he pushed them open and sped up his movements. You then felt the knot in your stomach snap and the orgasm washed over you. A load high pitch moan was yanked out of you.

He stood up and you saw the wet spot on his boxers, you giggled to yourself.

“What’s funny?” He asked.

“Did we cum in our boxers honey?” You teased him. “Can’t help that my girlfriend is hot.”

Chan walks over to you and climbs into the bed, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over and brought your hips up.

“You ready?”

“Wait! I thought we were done?”

“We haven’t even gotten started princess.”

[temporal-discounting]

Ed's depression in the first few eps of s2 is portrayed so skillfully. What really sells it (to me at least) is the blunted emotional responses and flattened affect.

Throughout the raid montage in 2.01 we see him with a blank expression. There's no indication at all that he is feeling much of anything at all as he watches the chaos and carnage unfold around him - even when we see him shoot a man (dying man, but still).

We hear from Fang that Ed barely reacted to Ivan's death - and the way Fang says this suggests that this lack of response is strange; distressing, even.

Now, maybe Ed is deliberately masking his emotions around others. Perhaps the flattened affect is an act to protect himself. Izzy made it very clear, after all, that openly expressing emotions is not acceptable.

But even when he is alone, we see evidence that he is experiencing blunted emotional responses. He barely flinches when he believes Izzy dies after hearing the gunshot, and there is no one around to witness his reaction. And yes, they had a messy and fucked up relationship, but if he was in a better mental state, he would have felt something. He is pretty distraught when Izzy really does die, after all.

What makes all of this even more powerful is the contrast with the Ed we got to know in season 1, who wore his emotions right out there on his sleeve. The Ed who giggled and goofed around; who looked at Stede with actual cartoon hearts in his eyes; who was playful and joyful and who cared about the people around him.

I am convinced that the OFMD crew consulted a clinical psychologist when writing and making s2, and it really shows. I love this show so much.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Just A Little Bite (Vampire!Nanami x Black!Bimbo!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Something strange is going on with Nanami. He doesn’t know what it is and neither do you. All you know is that he’s been extremely…possessive lately. And tonight at a friend’s costume party, when he sees you dressed in your sexy little outfit that garners unwanted attention from other men, Nanami’s “instincts” kick in and he drags you off to show you and everybody else that you’re his and his only. But does this strange yet sexy behavior come from you or is it just a full moon?

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Monster!Nanami, Bimbo!Reader, Black-Coded!Reader, Semi-Public Sex, Jealous!Nanami, Marking, Biting, Blood Play, Hypnosis, Dubcon/R*pe, Doggystyle, Mirror Sex, Mating Press, Unprotected Creampie, Mutual O, Choking, Aftercare, Dom!Nanami + sub!Reader, Established Relationship/Dating, Couples’ Costume, Monsterf*cking

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Vampire!Nanami is a concept that was just TOO HOT not to write about. Idk about y’all, but I’d let Nanami suck on my neck and my p— *TV FUZZ SOUNDS* any day 🤭 I based this one shot around the sexy fan art by @aliasnnmknt on their Twitter. PLEASE check out their work & enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋

**********

Nanami watches you like a predator would watch his prey: ravenously, possessively, and almost menacingly.

He stands off to the side nursing his lukewarm beer that he grips so tightly in his fist that he nearly breaks the glass bottle in half. He briefly pictures the bottle being Gojo’s neck instead that he wrings and snaps in half.

He blinks away the murder scene from his thoughts, criticizing himself for such murderous thoughts. He has never thought this way about anyone before…until you. As he watches Gojo hang around you like a bee hovering around honey, he can’t think about anything except how close the guy is to you—his girl.

He can’t exactly blame him though. You look absolutely to die and kill for in your little vampire costume for Gojo’s Halloween party. You put a sexy little spin on it with the mini skirt you paired with the lace black corset that pushes up your juicy breasts for all to behold. Your face brightens as you smile, the fake fangs in your mouth giving you such an adorable look that Nanami can’t stand it. Despite the thigh high, high heeled boots you wear, Gojo still towers over you. Like Nanami, he has a thing for pretty things too. Why must you be so goddamn pretty? So cute?

And it isn’t just your looks. Your bubbly, sweet personality makes you even more addictive. You’re so nice to everyone, even those who Nanami believes may not deserve it. But that’s what he adores about you. He’s fucking obsessed with you. ….Obsessed enough to wear a couple’s vampire costume with you and attend a Halloween party that he really didn’t want to go to.

“Wow, Y/N!” Gojo coos, his voice carrying over the music pulsing throughout the house. “You look so cute tonight! That blood is drippin’ like crazy though.” He uses one of his fake knife fingers to poke you and leans in closer to inspect the fake blood dripping down your plump lips to your chin to your neck right down to those luscious, full, pretty, soft, juicy, suckable ti—

“Thanks, Satoru!” You giggle, patting the taller man on the shoulder. He grins down at you, his Freddy Krueger hat tipped up to show off his handsome face. “Don’t worry, the blood is edible and washes right off. Nanami is dressed as a vampire too! Did you see him?”

Gojo’s smile turns into a smirk that boils Nanami’s blood. “I sure did,” he chuckles. “The guy has been hidin’ in the shadows all night. He’s livin’ up to the role.” He nods over to where Nanami is, a glint in his blue eyes.

You turn around in your vampire cape and give him an adorable waggle of your red, manicured fingers. Gojo waves too, mockingly so, while he plays with the ties of your cape at the nape of your throat. He’s too close. He’s too fucking close.

‘Asshole,’ Nanami thinks, chugging back some beer as if to ease his increasing anger. ‘He’d better get back now or I’ll—‘

“Here’s another drink for the lady,” Ino announces, passing you a red solo cup topped with a concoction of vodka and fruit juice. You love anything sweet and fruity. “Saw that your cup was empty and wanted to oblige.” He flirtatiously grins at you, appearing like the demon he’s dressed as tonight. Of course he put the fake horns over that damn beanie.

You gasp, putting a hand dramatically to your heart at the gesture. “Oh, thank you, Ino! Isn’t that so sweet?” You give him a hug to which he returns, giving Gojo a shit-eating grin. Under the blinking orange and red lights above, Nanami can see Gojo’s eye twitch in irritation. He has no right to be irritated. You’re Nanami’s girl. His baby. Why are all of these men so hell bent on trying his patience?

And why did you have to wear such a delectable outfit with your tits and thighs out? Nanami never was the type of man to tell his partner what to wear. He’s not that possessive. But damn, does it grind his gears to see other men ogle at what is his like ravenous dogs.

What does he have to do? Tear your clothes off, bend you over, and fuck you until he makes you cum to make them see that you’re his?

He blinks, shocked by the sudden dirty thought. Nanami is sexual, yes, but these deviant thoughts have never crossed his mind with you. Despite how small and cute and sweet you are, all he has ever wanted to do is make you feel good and attend to your body. He wants to give you pleasure. Give you what you want and need. He is completely at your service.

But the idea of littering your soft skin in teeth marks, making those pretty brown eyes roll back as he fucks you dumb, and filling you up with his cum makes his cock harder than he’d like to admit. He has to cover his bulge with his cape to avoid anyone seeing his obvious hard-on.

Now more have started to surround you until you’re like a movie star getting swarmed by her adoring fans. “Wow, Y/N, those nails are so long!” Yuji gasps, dressed as Chucky the Doll tonight. “Jeez, did you grow ‘em yourself?”

Megumi, dressed as absolutely nothing but a ‘This Is My Costume’ shirt and jeans, rolls his eyes. “Stupid,” he mutters. “Obviously, they’re fake.” You giggle as Yuji peers down at your long, red nails, even playing with them. Nanami has never wanted to kill a child before, but if Yuji doesn’t get his hands off of you, there’s going to be a big problem.

Geto suddenly appears like a phantom appearing out of thin air, just as tall as Gojo and dressed in a Ghostface costume. “Careful, or she may just scratch you with ‘em,” he sniggers, giving you a flirty look. “Not that I’d mind that.” Gojo chuckles, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Me either. Call us pain sluts.”

Oh, they’re sluts indeed. Nanami knows all about how this whorish couple scoops up pretty little things like you and shares them in the bedroom. You could never want that…not with them. If you’re going to have a threesome with anyone, he’ll clone himself for that.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” you giggle, patting Geto on the chest. “You guys are too sweet to me! I’d only scratch up the bad guys and spooky monsters.” You make a show of cutely scratching at the air, your perfect lips wrapping around the rim of your cup.

“Weeeell, I think demons count for both,” Ino chuckles. “Better luck next time, fellas.” He gives a wink to the couple as he tries to sneakily wrap an arm around around your shoulders, but Gojo stops him by physically cutting between him and you. “Ya might wanna tell yourself that,” he says, peering at Ino over his sunglasses. Maybe you’ll have some game next time.”

Ino’s smirk grows cockier, but before this can go South, a song that excites Yuji begins to play. “Y/N, you’ve gotta come dance to this!” He says, grabbing you by the hand. “You like Megan Thee Stallion too! I remember! Megumi’s gonna dance too!” You giggle at Megumi who blushes, elbowing Yuji in the side.

“No thanks, kids,” Gojo tuts, shooing the younger men away. “Besides, Y/N doesn’t wanna dance with two ametures.” He smiles down at you, but it isn’t friendly. Nanami can see the undercurrent of lust in it.

“Geto and I know a thing or two about sharin’ a partner,” he says in a sultry tone. “Can you handle two at the same time on the floor, cutie?” He and Geto surround you like two hawks, waiting for you to let your guard down. Nanami just about loses it. He is seeing red.

But you—sweet, oblivious you—don’t see the ulterior motives in the couple’s offer. “Oh, but Nanami might wanna dance too,” you add. “He’s right over there!” You point to where he stands on the wall, giving him a pretty smile that floods his stomach with butterflies. After taking one final swig of beer for liquid courage, Nanami places the bottle down on a nearby table and strides up to meet you on the dance floor. The throng of people part for him, not wanting to get in the way of this tall, big man with forearms and thighs that could crush heads.

Gojo and Geto couldn’t look less intimidated by the blonde in his vampire costume, same as his girlfriend. “Ohhh, so he’s finally blessed us with his presence,” Gojo teases. Nanami ignores him, but gives both him and his boyfriend a glare as he takes your hand in his.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, hit by a whiff of your sugary perfume. What is that? Vanilla with a hint of caramel? Whatever it was, it was making him hard as a rock. “I need to talk to you,” he murmurs.

You nod and wave goodbye at Geto and Gojo as Nanami drags you off of the dance floor. He leads you over to the wall where he was before. When you look up at him, all smiles and twinkly brown eyes, he nearly goes feral and fucks you right there. What the hell is going on with him? He presses a hand to his head that has begun to pound like the bass of the music playing overhead.

“Hey, Kenny, baby,” you giggle. “The guys want me to dance with them. They’re playing ‘Thriller’!” Your smile suddenly fades, replaced with a frown as your expression turns to one of concern. “Hey…Kenny, what’s wrong? Is it your head?”

“Uh…” Nanami winces, the throbbing in his brain growing. He also feels extremely hot, like the party is too much and too stuffy all of the sudden. “I-I’m sorry, doll, but I think we should leave. My head is hurting.”

Your cute face etches with concern, your eyebrows drawn together. “Oh, you poor thing,” you coo, gently stroking his back. “Is it the beer? Did you have any water? Maybe you need some food! Here, I’ll go get you an eyeball cake pop!” You turn to head to the snack table, but he abruptly stops you by placing a hand on your arm.

“No, no,” he abruptly says. “Just….stay here. With me.” He pulls you toward him, smushing you against his body. He sighs breathing in your sweet, intoxicating perfume and fruity shampoo. He already feels better feeling you in his arms, blocked from the prying eyes of the men lurking in the shadows.

He feels your soft, small hands on him, feeling him up. Feeling your hands on him only makes his cock harder, pushing against the fabric of his slacks. “Kento,” you whisper, pulling away to gape at him. “Baby, you’re burning up! Are you sure you’re okay?”

He falls into the brown sugar depths of your eyes, pulled in by how pretty and worried they look. He doesn’t know how to answer you without possibly giving away his secret. Without admitting that he’s been lying to you about what he truly is. “I…I don’t—“

“Y/N!” A familiar voice suddenly shouts. Your turn, grinning at Habibara walking into the scene wearing a Woody costume, boots and all. Behind him is Higuruma in a simple suit splattered with blood which could either be a ‘Pulp Fiction’ or ‘American Psycho’ reference. Haibara’s eyes become comically wide at the sight of you. “Damn, girl, aren’t you the cutest vampire ever! Look at you! You look amazing!” He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, spinning you around and around. Nanami seethes at the sight of it.

When his friend puts you down, you look joyful and absolutely radiant. “Thanks, Haibara,” you giggle. “Oh, you brought Higuruma out! You two look amazing!” The lawyer sighs, looking like he wants to be somewhere other than here. “I don’t know why I’m here,” he sighs. “I’d much rather be at home.” Nanami silently agrees,

Haibara laughs, wrapping an arm around the lawyer's neck. “Well, maybe a look at this darlin’ will change that attitude,” he chuckles. “Just look at her! Ain’t Nanami’s girl so pretty?” He grins at you while Higuruma takes one look at you and blushes. He fucking blushes! Nanami has never seen this man even crack a smile.

You’re just too powerful with your bimbo self. Your sweetness and cuteness are forces that cannot be fought with or against. You can make even the most uptight of men blush and fall to their knees just as Nanami almost did the first time he met you.

While any other man may be fine and even happy with the fact that other men desire their women, Nanami is different.

Very different. Just the idea of any man looking at you is enough to make him snap. Despite half of the men at this party being his friends, colleagues, or mentees, he sees them as enemies tonight. He wants nothing more than to steal you away, lock you up, and never let you out again.

But maybe he doesn’t have to do that.

Maybe all he has to do is rip your corset open to reveal those gorgeous tits and pretty, brown nipples and mark them up with red and purple hickeys to show everyone that you’re his.

Maybe he can just bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, lift up that tiny skirt, and spank that ass of yours until he sees handprints.

Maybe he can even flash these horn dogs that dripping pussy of yours, stuff his fingers inside and make you cum the only way he knows how.

Maybe he can simply sit you down with him and bounce you on his cock for everyone to witness, stare into the eyes of every man who has ogled you tonight and think, ‘Yeah, look at this shit. This is mine. Only I can fuck her like this.’

He can dig his nails into the soft flesh of your ass. Wrap a hand around your throat. Shove his tongue down your throat. All while your velvety walls squeeze around him as you finally hit your climax and you milk him so much that he busts a fat load in your—

“Nanami?” Your soft voice is laced with worry. He blinks, finding you, Haibara, and Higuruma staring at him. “Are you okay, baby?” You ask, concerned. “Your eyes look kinda…weird.”

“Yeah, man,” Haibara adds, squinting curiously at his friend. “They look all red. I didn’t know you smoked!”

Red? Immediately, Nanami’s nerves become frazzled when everything starts to make sense. The murderous thoughts. His headache. And now, his aching teeth. He turns to the window and sure enough, there is a big, fat, white full moon glowing in the sky. ‘Oh, no,’ he thinks. No, not now! How could he forget tonight is a full moon?! He thought he was more careful. More prepared.

Immediately, he takes your hand and snatches you away without another word. “Let’s go,” he growls. You gasp, following after him on quick feet. “Where are we going?!” You yell over the music. He turns to you, doing his best to keep his hormones in check. “Somewhere more private. Upstairs.”

He zooms up the steps with you, nearly knocking over other partiers in the process. “Don’t fuck up my sheets!” Gojo yells after you and Nanami. “I’ve got condoms in my nightstand if you need ‘em, Nanami!”

Nanami ignores the childish cheering as he ascends up the steps with you in tow. He finds an empty bedroom and yanks you inside, shutting the door behind you. The room is spacious and clean with a king-sized bed, a window overlooking the moon, and a mirror hanging above the bed on the ceiling. ‘Fuckin’ freaks,’ Nanami thinks. He knows that this is Gojo and Geto’s bedroom.

“Kento!” You gasp, panting from the speed walk up here. “What’s going on? We’re gonna miss the party!” Nanami turns to you, putting his big hands on your shoulders. He winches, feeling his nails aching to stretch into sharp claws. “We need to leave, Y/N,” he growls out. “Right now.”

‘Or something really bad is about to happen,’ he thinks.

You blink those pretty, long lashes at him, perplexed. “But they didn’t even cut the pumpkin cake,” you pout. “Don’t you want some cake, Nanami?” God, does he. Nanami has never wanted to fuck you more than now. He lowers his head to stare at the floor, unable to take your cuteness. “God, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he huffs. “Why the hell must you be so fuckin’ cute?”

You stand there, still as a statue, confused at what’s happening to your boyfriend. He doesn’t blame you. He has never behaved in such a manner before…or not in front of you, at least. He knows he can’t keep this from you.

“I must confess, darling,” he sighs, gripping your hands in his. “I don’t like the way those guys look at you. Gojo, Habibara, all of them. I don’t even know why you had to wear…that.” His eyes glaze over your sexy costume, his cock growing harder.

Your eyes grow big and soft, disappointment in them. “You don’t like my costume?” You softly ask. Immediately, he feels guilt pang in his chest. “No, no, I love it, baby. That’s the problem—others love it too. And some of those guys down there aren’t as nice as others.”

‘Like me. They won’t treat you like I will—like a fucking princess.’

You tilt your head to the side like a puppy. “What do you mean?” You ask. The ache in his teeth has grown increasingly and he winces in pain. You notice and go to touch him, but he stops you by kissing your hand. “Some of those men wanna fuck you,” he hisses, and your eyes widen at the dirty word falling from his lips. “They wanna take you from me when you’re my girl. My baby. You’re mine.”

Your pretty face becomes etched in worry and slight fear. This isn’t your boyfriend. Your sweet, respectful Nanami. This is…someone else. “N-Nanami?” You stammer.

He releases your hands and places his own on your hips. You watch in awe as he sinks to his knees as if in complete and total anguish…and he is. Your beauty is almost painful as it is to hold back the power of the full moon. ”You’re all mine,” he repeats. “And I need to show everyone that. I need to make sure they know that you’re taken.”

He looks up into your eyes and finds nothing but fear in them. “Nanami!” You gasp, pressing yourself against the door. “Your teeth!”

Nanami slides his tongue along his upper row of teeth where, sure enough, he feels two sharpened points. “Shit,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, baby. It wasn’t my intention to tell you like this.” You’re still pressed against the wall, looking like a terrified bunny. He feels his heart shatter at the sight. “Tell me what?” You whimper. “Kento, you’re scaring me.”

Nanami continues to sit on his knees, keeping a distance from you to not alarm you any further. “Don’t be scared, baby,” he coos, holding your fearful eyes with his. “I’ll never ever hurt you, but there is something about me that I haven’t told you.”

The moonlight shines brighter into the room, illuminating your brown skin and glassy eyes. “What is it?” You whisper, but he knows you know the answer. When the moonlight hits him, he feels its warmth and its power as he is washed in its silvery light. His headache dissolves as his fangs and claws grow and his eyes grow a crimson red like the purest blood. “This,” he softly growls. “This is what I am. I can’t help it, baby. It’s a full moon unfortunately.”

He watches as your eyes grow wide as saucers and your plump, glossy lips form an O. “O-Oh, my God,” you gasp. “Y-You’re a…a…” You don’t finish, but he already knows what you’re about to say. A vampire.

You must’ve had a hunch something was different about your boyfriend, didn’t you? How he barely comes out in the daytime unless to see you. The fact that he keeps his curtains drawn, telling you before that sunlight weakens his eyesight. The fact that he eats his steaks very rare.

The signs have been there all along and he’s sure you’re realizing it now. He stands and grasps your arms, desperation taking over. “I won’t hurt you, but I need to show you that you’re mine,” he says, a rasp of need in his voice. “I must claim you.”

He feels your body relax under his touch which gives him the green light to kiss you. He slowly leans in, giving you the chance to pull away or tell him to stop…but you don’t. Instead, you tilt your chin up to meet his lips in a hot, slow, passionate kiss that sweeps you off of your feet and draws the softest moans out of you.

Nanami immediately grows feral at the sound, feel, and smell of you. You’re so sweet. So soft. So small. So adorable. And so completely his. He presses himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on as his tongue swirls with yours in a wet dance. When he pulls away, you gasp as he begins to pepper your neck in open-mouthed kisses. “N-Nanami,” you whimper, gripping his shoulders. “The party—“

“Fuck the party,” he growls, licking at your throat. “All that matters right now is you and me.” He focuses on that spot behind your ear that you like, relishing the squeaky moan you let out and how you press your tits into his groping hands. “Invite me in, darling,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me to.”

His cock presses against his slacks, urging him to rip them off and stuff you full now. Luckily, you’re on the same time and wrap your leg around his waist to bring him closer. “Nanami,” you moan. “Oh, Nanami, yes!”

Nanami wedges his knee between your thighs where he urges you to grind your cunt against his thigh. “Tell me you want me,” he repeats. “Let me in, baby.” His cock aches intensely, but he ignores it. He can’t do this without your permission. He won’t–

“Yes!” You whine, gripping him for dear life. “Yes, Ken, take me! I want this so badly!” Nanami doesn’t even have to read your mind to know that you mean it. He can hear the desperation in your voice.

Minutes later, while the party rages on downstairs, Nanami fulfills both of your needs when has you bent over the side of Gojo and Geto’s bed and his big, thick, long cock filling up every inch of your wet pussy over and over again. Your gorgeous tits sway out of your corset and your beautiful ass bounces off of his pelvis the more he fucks you, his hands gripping each asscheek where his sharp nails nearly dig into your skin. Your mini skirt, panties, and boots forgotten on the floor along with his clothes, leaving you only in your corset.

Meanwhile, Nanami is completely naked, his chest and neck coated in your lipstick stains and his cock hard inside of you from your constant and heavenly sucking and gagging on it earlier. He only grows harder and more feral at the sweet sound of your sugary, high-pitched moans as he fucks you at a pace he never has before.

With the moon high in the sky, Nanami’s powers are at their peak. He now has superspeed which allows him to fuck you at damn near the speed of light, causing the bed to scoot across the floor and the sound of skin slapping against skin to drift in the air.

He leans down to nibble at your ear with his fangs, fanning your face in mint-scented breath. “How’s this, my love?” He growls into your ear. “Is this good enough for my baby, hm?” He moves his hands to cup your tits, keeping them safe in his big palms. You’re losing your ever-loving mind at this point. His dick is too good. His stroke game is immaculate. All of your senses are heightened with him, as his are with you. You love sex with a vampire! “F-Fuck, Nanami, yes!” You moan. “You feel s-so good! Keep going! Don’t stop!”

He presses his nose into your hair, breathing in coconut and mango. “Never,” he groans. “But you need to keep makin’ those noises for me, okay, my love? Give me that voice.”

He slows down and begins to give you slow, deep strokes that rock you to your core. “B-But…oh, shit!…but they’ll hear us!” You whine. “Oh, fuck yes!” Poor baby. You can’t even get the rest of your sentence out because you’re getting fucked too god.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls. “Those guys can listen and jerk off for all I care. I want ‘em all to hear you gettin’ dicked down just like you should.” He’ll show all of those guys who had their eyes on you…even the ones who didn’t. He pictures them all standing around watching him now, cocks hard at the sight of you getting pounded by him. ‘This is how you fuck a woman,’ he’d tell them. ‘This is how you take what’s yours.’

Power fills his veins like heroin and he straightens up to grip your ass. “Tell me how you want it, baby,” he whispers. “You want it like this?” He pumps his hips a little faster, making your ass bounce and your moans grow loud. “Nanami,” you whimper. “T-Too…ah! Too m-much! I-I can’t…can’t!”

He chortles at how adorable you are, stroking your back with his hand. “Can’t what, darling?” He chuckles. “You can’t take all of that cock?” You nod faster than a bobblehead even as his cock keeps filling you again and again. He tuts. “Oh, but you’re wrong. You’re doin’ it so well right now. Actually…”

Slowly, he pulls his cock, slick with your juices, out of you and slaps it against your clit a few times before giving your ass a smack. “On your back, you little vixen.” Your giggles are aphrodisiacs to him as you do as you’re told. “Yes, sir,” you giggle.

You get on your back on the bed and he settles between your thigh, snatching you closer by your ankles. He can tell you’re turned on by his show of strength which isn’t just caused by his vampire powers. He stares deep into your eyes, crimson staring into brown. “I want you to watch yourself take my cock,” he demands. “Think you can do that for me, pretty girl?”

Frantically, you nod, needing more of him. You open your mouth to verbalize that need, but your words turn into a moan as his cock sinks back inside of you. Hiking your knees over his shoulder, he begins to pump his hips forward and back at a fast pace that makes you see the entire fucking galaxy as your fingers play with your clit in an effort to heighten your pleasure.

“Look up,” he demands. You do and grow entranced by the sight of you taking his cock, your legs and pussy spread open by him. But all you see is yourself spread out like a dessert plate reflected in the mirror above. Nanami is nowhere to be found in the mirror. Vampires have no reflection. You’ve never been more turned on in your life seeing your pretty self get fucked like this.

The bedsprings creak and your moans mingle with each other, creating a symphony of sex in the air as the music from the party drifts up from downstairs. Watching your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth fall open on each gasp, whine, and pretty moan is a sight to behold. “Oh, my God, fuck!” You babble. “Yes, Kento, yes! I-I’m so close! I’m gonna—“

Knock, knock.

“Uh…Nanami?” Ino asks.

Your eyes pop open like a cartoon’s and you terrifyingly stare up at Nanami. “Goddammit,” he growls, slowing down to a slower tempo. He presses a finger to his lips to silence you and clears his throat. “What is it?” He barks, unable to hide his irritation. “I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

Ino’s laughter is unmistakable even behind the door. “Oh, we know,” he chuckles. “I’m damn near jealous! Gojo just wanted me to tell you that we’re cuttin’ the cake if you and your girl wants some.”

Your ushy, gushy, velvety pussy clenches around Nanami, milking the cum out of him. “Just wrap it up,” he says, biting back a groan. “I need to finish this first.” He wraps a hand around your throat because he knows that gets you closer, squeezing his fingers around your pretty neck. “Don’t let me stop you,” Ino snorts. “I’ll save you some…oh, and make sure she’s extra loud. Might as well hear her cum.”

Nanami smirks, surprisingly liking that naughty idea. “Will do,” he grunts and proceeds to pound you into the mattress until you’re seeing stars again. Your moans are loud, much to Ino’s liking, as you get closer and closer to your end. Nanami is there too. “Darling,” he rasps, “I’m close. I’m gonna have to bite you soon.”

He can feel his jaw aching, his fangs growing sharper in anticipation of your sweet blood. Your brown eyes grow round with worry. “W-Will it hurt?” You whimper. You look oh-so scared that he nearly melts. “Just a pinch, but I’ll only do it when you finally climax. It’ll make your orgasm more intense…put you in a euphoric state.”

He knows from his own experiences of one-night stands when he was at his most desperate and starved for blood. He is dying to see you in the same dazed, sexy, euphoric state that his one nights were in once they came as he sunk his teeth into their necks. “Is that okay?” He asks, concerned with your comfortability. “I could always just—“

“No!” You cry out, your glossy lips wobbling and your eyes filling with tears from the intense pleasure. “It’s okay, Nanami. I trust you.” Your eyes grow hooded and lustful as you lean your head back on the pillow, exposing your neck and smooth skin to him. “Bite me, sir. I’m all yours.”

Nanami nearly bursts right there. “Oh, baby,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum.” He ruts into harder, faster, urging your hand to rub yourself in time with his thrusts. “Cum for me,” you beg through pants. “Please cum with me, Kenny! I’m so close!”

He leans down to tongue-kiss you, swapping saliva and moans as he fucks you over and over and over again. He then pulls away to stare down at you, falling deep into the chocolate pools of your eyes. “Look into my eyes, baby,” he whispers. “Cum with me.”

He knows that the hypnosis has kicked in when your expression softens and your eyes grow glazed as you stare up at him. It only takes a few more thrusts for you to finally reach your peak. With a high-pitched moan, you finally gush all around Nanami’s cock, your walls clenching around him tighter than a vice.

As you cum, Nanami swoops down to tongue down once he feels himself cumming too. He vigorously thrusts into you, chasing his high until he lets out a groan as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum. You gasp into the sloppy kiss, filling absolutely full.

Nanami feels himself losing control, all grips on his humanity leaving him. “Give me your neck,” he growls, his voice dipping so low that he barely sounds like himself. Without a confirmation or the green light, he swoops down to sink his teeth into your soft, brown flesh.

A weak moan leaves your lips as you flinch from the pain, but then your body begins to writhe in pleasure as his bite takes you to a pleasurable, almost euphoric place. You arch your back and press yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

Nanami sucks your blood like a parched man in the desert, your sweet blood coating his teeth, tongue and lips. He can feel your energy and life force enter him, making him feel like he can touch the fucking moon. He grows addicted with each slurp, your blood drugging him. “K-Kento!” you gasp. “O-Oh!”

He is aware that he’s been sucking for too long and you start to feel uncomfortable. “Just a little more,” he grunts. “Just a little bit more, baby.” His tongue bathes the bite marks in saliva that numbs the sting and makes your pulse stop jumping.

Once he finally finishes, he pulls away and licks the rest of your blood off of his lips. You lay beneath him, panting and dazed. “You okay?” He worriedly asks. “Was it too much?”

you shake your head, still looking as if you just did too many drugs and you’re crashing. “No, m’just…dizzy,” you mutter.

Quickly, Nanami springs into action. He tells you to lay there before jumping off of the bed and racing to the bathroom…butt naked. He doesn’t give a fuck if anyone sees him. His priority is YOU.

Luckily, no one does and he returns with aftercare essentials: a glass of water, a towel soaked in warm water, and body oil. He doesn’t want to know why Gojo and Geto have that. When he returns, he finds you halfway asleep and nearly laughs. ‘Poor baby,’ he thinks. He tuckered you out.

“Drink slow,” Nanami says, pressing the glass to your lips. You lean up and slowly sip the water, humming in appreciation. Once you’ve had enough, he sets the drink side and wipes you down before rubbing some oil between his palms.

He then proceeds to massage your body, paying close attention to your hips and legs. You melt beneath his calloused hands, your smile lopsided and lazy. Once he finishes with that, he lays next to you and scoops you into him, making you the little spoon. “That’s it, darling, just relax. You did so, so well for me.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, gently stroking your back.

“Good,” you happily sigh. “I’m happy.” You pop your head up to look up at him, smiling. “Now let’s snuggle before we go get that cake!”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. How could he be blessed with such a wonderful gift such as you? “Thank you for accepting me, darling,” he whispers. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.”

He nuzzles into your sweet-smelling hair, making you giggle. “And I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend,” you happily sigh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re so sweet and sexy and—wait, is this gonna turn me into a vampire too?!”

You sit up straight and look at him wide-eyed, terror in your eyes. He nearly laughs. You’re like a little cartoon character. “No, darling,” he chuckles, easing your fear. “All I did was suck your blood. I’d never turn you without your permission.” Though the idea of spending eternity as vampires with you doesn’t sound too bad.

“Oh…well, that’s a relief!” You sigh, lying back down with him and proceeding to snuggle him in Gojo and Geto’s bed. “Though I would make a cute little vampire, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” he laughs. “Yes, you would. But you’d be cute in any form, my darling.”

THE END.