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lovebugism · 2 months

Note

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

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

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

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

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

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand.

“Ow!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” you nod.

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

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

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

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

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

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

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

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

“Yeah…” you echo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 months

Text

{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

🍒🍒🍒

"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in his thoughts about Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

#my writing #mine #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this got so fucking long oh myyyyy goooodddd #I hope you like it friend!!!#im gonna take a nap now! be back in several hours!!!!#werewolf steve harrington #also a side of #jeff x chrissy #my fic

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Text

Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 6 months

Text

Ready to roll?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 9

Prompt: No Upside Down AU

Rated: T

CW: one mention of masturbation bc Eddie is a horny little shit

Tags: Future fic; Flirting; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in rollerblades

Notes: Another collab with the amazingly talented and creative @house-of-the-moving-image - check out their art!

"What?" Eddie says eloquently, tearing his eyes from the laminated menu.

The waiter is hovering next to his booth, pen tapping against the notepad in his hand. He looks annoyed. Probably pissed at Eddie for interrupting his quiet night shift. Well, tough luck, pretty boy.

"I said …" the waiter pauses, heaves a brief but heartfelt sigh. "Are you ready to roll?"

Eddie blinks.

"Listen, dude!" The waiter says flatly, but there's a blush blossoming on his neck. "I'd ask if I may take your order, but I'm, like, contractually obfuscated to say … this instead. Goes with the theme, y’know?"

He gestures at the entirety of himself. The cheerfully colored shirt and tiny shorts. The little apron around his waist. The knee-high socks disappearing into a pair of chunky, red-and-white rollerblades, and … oh, right.

"Well?"

Eddie snaps his eyes back up and shit, for how long has he been staring at those legs like a creep?

The waiter is scowling at him. He really is pretty. Exactly Eddie’s type. Gold-flecked eyes, stupidly voluminous hair, pink lips twisted into a bitchy little scowl. Eddie imagines pushing him up against the wall on those stupid wheels of his, sucking and biting that scowl right off.

"Hm," he makes instead. "The guys at the label said I'd enjoy the cake, but I'm starting to think they weren't talking about the menu."

The scowl deepens.

"Cheeseburger and fries," Eddie says. "And a strawberry milkshake."

One elegant eyebrow arches.

"... Please?"

Waiter boy smirks at him, a brief flash of perfectly white teeth. Eddie wants to lick them.

"Coming right up." He jots the order down, shoves pen and notepad into his apron pocket. As he does, Eddie catches a glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform shirt. (Which has nothing to do with him ogling the way the fabric stretches over that toned chest, because he wasn't doing that, thank you.)

It says "Hi, I'm Steve. :-)"

Wait, what?

The whirr of rollerblades on the floor tiles jerks him out of his stupor. He's glad he didn't take off his sunglasses, because holy fuck, he must be gawking like an idiot right now.

Because he knows a guy named Steve. Or knew.

A guy named Steve with perfect, caramel hair, tan skin littered in moles and an irritatingly pretty, aloof smile. Not that Eddie was ever at the receiving end of that smile. The closest Eddie ever got to him was back in eighty-six, when he was dealing drugs out of his van. In the driveway of that palace in Loch Nora, while the King and his court partied inside.

Eddie watches how waiter boy comes gliding out of the kitchen, wipes down tables and refills napkin holders.

It can't be.

Steve Harrington is back in the hellhole that is Hawkins, Indiana - or maybe at some college halfway across the country, preparing to take over daddy's business. He's most certainly not wearing rollerblades and a pair of stupidly short shorts, waiting tables in a cheap twenty-four hour diner in Seattle.

Then again, back in eighty-six, who would've thought that Eddie Munson would be owning his own record label one day?

When waiter boy arrives with his order and leans in to put it down on the table, Eddie peers over his sunglasses to cast an inconspicuous look at his profile.

There's a pair of moles on his neck, near identical in size, spaced apart like a perfect little vampire bite.

Well, slap his ass and call him Sally.

Eddie knows these moles, has spent entire nights jerking off to the thought of sinking his teeth into them.

"Staring costs extra," Steve mutters at the milkshake.

Before Eddie can say anything, the phone on the counter rings and Steve rolls over to answer it. Eddie chews on his too-salty fries and can't help the grin that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy twirl the cord around his fingers while taking the order.

The night just officially got interesting.

Steve looks over, catches him staring and gives him the flattest, most unimpressed look Eddie has ever seen on a person who just realized they were being checked out. The blush has reached his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Eddie winks and Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back on him. Eddie doesn’t complain. That ass does look fantastic in the shorts.

He takes his time with the meal. The burger is nothing to write home about, but the view more than makes up for it.

When he is done, he saunters over to the counter, pulling out his wallet. Steve is busy counting mayonnaise packages and muttering under his breath. He blinks in confusion when Eddie slaps down a fifty, starts digging for change in his apron.

"Nah," Eddie says. "Just keep it."

Steve frowns at him. "That's way too much."

"Don't sell yourself short. I thought staring was extra?"

Steve opens his mouth. Hesitates. Closes it. Pockets the money.

"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes trained at some point behind Eddie's shoulder. "Roll by again."

Eddie just barely manages to turn the incoming snort into a grin.

"Sure will,” he mutters, leaning across the counter and into the boy’s space. “Maybe I'll try that cake next time."

"Oh, please," Steve huffs. "As if you could afford me, Munson."

Eddie feels his jaw drop. "Wait, you knew who-"

The doorbell chimes.

"Hi there!" Steve chirps at the guy in the door. "You called, right? I'll check if your order is ready."

And then he's gone and Eddie is staring at the still swinging kitchen door like an idiot.

It isn't until he's back out in the dark street that his confusion morphs into something else. His majesty wants to play coy? Well, Eddie can indulge him, can't he?

He makes his way home with a new spring in his step. Looks like he's found his new favorite dinner spot.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles #upside diner AU

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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

art cred: maichiatto62 (x)

☦︎synopsis: you get chased by a dark and undetermined figure in the woods, and run toward a dreadful castle that houses a seemingly kind man, will you stay awhile?

☦︎genre: smut w/plot

☦︎tags: vampiric hypnotism, mentions of blood, biting, corruption, dialogue heavy, degradation “whore” , loss of virginity, cunnalingus, creampie, mirror

☦︎wrd cnt: 2.2k

☦︎a/n: vampires and gothic literature is my favorite so this was a dream to write and I hope anyone reading enjoys!

Twigs and thistle snap under your feet as you walk through the fruit berring bushes, feeling the low laying leaves scratch your ankles.

You lost track of time and try to find your group, you probably should have skipped this hiking trip. Or at least wore shorts that covered your knees. The night drew upon your haggard form quite quickly, and the temperature dropped significantly.

You tried your best to find the light of the campfire you knew was there before you left.

After a few minutes of silent walking, besides your rummaging footsteps, you hear a loud thud somewhere behind you.

Your back straightened up like a rod, “Hello?” Your voice echos slightly, bouncing off the trees and up toward the stars. You prayed like hell it was one of your friends, coming to your salvation.

When nobody answered you after your third call out, you kept walking.

You heard another loud noise, as if a bolder dropped straight into a big pile of leaves, trembling the ground you stood on.

Frozen in fear, like a deer, you stand in the middle of a plot of dirt surrounded by the thick trees and shrub.

Your eyes open wide and your hands balled up in fists, you survey the area until you find the source of the sound.

A tree, wounded with a big chunk missing from the side.

It still stood tall, but reckoned to snap if it had been torn just a few more inches towards the unbent side.

You wondered who could have caused such destruction, or rather what.

You would find out soon enough, when you examine the tree to find streaks of blood scattered over earthen hide.

Following the trail you discovered the remains of some animal.

Well that’s what you think it was, it had been mangled and torn in such a brutal manner there was no way to identify exactly what it could have been.

As you tried your best to figure it out, a black shadow stalked you from afar.

Red orbs visible with stillness behind a tree, slowly growing larger in your view as it approached. The dimness of the atmosphere cloaked it well.

You stepped back, shoes muddied and heavy as you ran. You ran until you saw the nearest source of light, not bothered to look behind you to whatever was chasing.

Your labored breath became cold and dryed out your throat.

You ran and ran until you found a rather tall and lucrative looking building, somewhat of a mansion or moreso fitting of a castle.

Where the hell did that come from? You’ve never seen anything like it before in all the times you’d hiked in these woods.

You didn’t have much time to question it, but ran right to the door.

It was slightly crept open, so you figured it must have been some kind of open house or exhibit.

You rushed in, shutting the grand door.

As you caught your breath, you almost screamed when you heard a man’s voice right behind you. Who you somehow didn’t see when first stepping in, as if he’d appeared from thin air.

“Good evening.” The man said, burning candle in his hand.

You turned before he could even finish his greeting, a look of utter terror in your eyes.

“Are you well dear? You’re bleeding”

You didn’t even notice, but your knees had been scrapped and dripping blood halfway down your shins.

His eyes lit a shade of red barely able to be detected, or maybe it was just the reflection of the flame? You were quite scared and paranoid after all.

“Oh- I’m so sorry, The door was open and I didn’t know anyone was here- Someone was chasing me.”

“Oh my, are you alright? Come, let me offer you safety tonight.” He beckoned you to follow him, the rays of the small flame from the wax stick guiding you as he most graciously offered you a safe heaven in his home.

You looked around at the torchlit walls, it felt dark and cold throughout the entire place.

He walked you up 2 flight of stairs, his pace was quite constant throughout, almost like he was floating on each step.

You soon arrived into a hallway full of paintings adorning the walls, hand painted it seemed. So beautiful you had to point it out.

“You have a lovely home- is this artwork all yours?” You ask.

“Yes. I have quite a bit of spare time on my hands, so I much enjoy art.” He answered. The man’s voice was deep and mellow.

You walked down the red carpet hallway to the room all the way to the end, it seemed to be one of the many dozens.

There was a large canopy bed lined with dark lace and wooden upholstery.

“Please, spend the night here until morning. I wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”

Before you could even agree to his much eager assistance, he walked over to a box near the fireplace side table and pulled out several glass vials and bandages.

You walked toward him, and sat down per his instruction.

“Thank you- You’ve been so kind to me. Why?”

He chuckled, kneeling down to your level and applying an ointment to the cloth.

“Why? How ever could I turn away such a frightening young lady at my door. There are dangerous things in those woods.”

His tone sounded very concerned, but horrifyingly casual.

“What is your name Sir? If it’s okay to ask.”

“It’s perfectly okay. You can call me Blade.”

“Blade…Nice to meet you” What a strange name.

“Likewise. Now please, allow me.”

You nod, before he dabs a stinging oil to your knee. One by one.

He handles you well, gently.

His cold hands held your calves as he bandaged up your wounds.

He gets up from his knelt position, seeming even taller than he is when he stands from this view.

His long black hair was so dark it seemed blue, ends dipped in a color that resembled the shade of holly berries.

He sat down on the chair opposite of you, his face framed by the fireplaces glow behind him now.

“So tell me dear, what exactly happened?” His voice dripping in concern.

“I…really don’t know. I got lost hiking with my group and I tried to find them, but then I kept hearing weird noise in the forest and I thought it could be them looking for me. But-“

You stopped, reliving the sequence you just ran from.

He waited patiently for you to continue, his sculpture like face and rich eyes giving you their utmost attention.

“I saw blood, and a dead animal, I think a wolf or something could have done it. But there was a man- in the woods. It kept staring at me and getting close. So I ran for a while until I found your- castle?” You chuckle a little, the term house seemed beneath such a grand sanctuary.

“Maybe a werewolf?” The man said, giving you an amused chuckle. He waves his hand, “But anyways…That all sounds very frightening, I’m glad you found me.”

You nod, “As am I” you assure.

Whatever it was you are safe now y/n, very safe.” He took your hands into his own, giving them a positive squeeze with smiling eyes.

You nodded, but soon a hitch in your throat appeared and you felt like your stomach got kicked.

“I never told you my name.”

A smile appeared on his face, “Smart girl.”

His eyes glowed the same shade of sanguine you saw in the forest, chasing you. You could see two sharp teeth sticking past his upper lip, his smirk revealing to you his true identity.

You quickly get up, startled enough to drop the chair behind you and fall back onto the bed.

“Who are you-“ You scream, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he stood slowly and walked toward you.

“I already told you that, didn’t I?.”

He cupped your face, making you look straight up at him.

“Please- don’t hurt me.” You plead, tears now falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks.

“Hurt you? I just tended to your wounds, why do you think I’ll harm you dear?” His voice sounds even lower at this point, and his eyes fiery.

You kick back your leg and retreat further back into the bed, almost yelling, “You’re a vampire-!”

“And your blood smells so deliciously decadent…I almost couldn’t resist tasting you a moment ago.” He crawls toward your frame, his large hands making deep prints into the mattress.

His eyes seemed to glow in a pattern, the color deepening snd glowing slowly as he got toward you.

Your body felt weak, as if magnetic to him. Almost willing to amuse him.

“What are- what are you doing to me-“

“I haven’t done a thing. I’m just increasing the magnitude of your emotions dear. Whatever you feel at this moment is your utmost desire spilling out every orafice in your body.”

You felt your mind whirl, your body get hotter with every inch he grew closer to you.

He soon wrapped his palms behind your back, seating you in his lap.

You felt an animalistic urge settle upon you, breathing even heavier than when you ran away from him earlier.

He grazed his hand up and down your legs, taking off your shoes and socks, rubbing the sore soles of your feet.

“You must get more comfortable my dear, you seem less tense, good.” He says, slowly pressing his lips to yours as you hold his shoulder.

His tongue found yours, warm in contrast to the rest of him; tangling itself in a waltz.

He nipped at your bottom lip and pricked it, tugging at it and licking the blood that drew from it with his tongue. “Virgin blood…You are truly magnificent.”

You felt your face heat up more than your body, his presence making you feel an insatiable hunger for lust.

“Blade- please…I feel-“

“Concupiscent? I can tell, y/n”, he said, his hand trailing up to your thigh and rubbing your heat through your shorts.

You roll your hips at his touch, a small mewl escaping you.

He picks you up and plops you down further back on the bed, your head hitting the pillow softly as his large frame hovers above your body.

“I can be very thorough in relieving your…lustful desires.”

“Please- yes…” You softly gasp, feeling his lips close to your neck before they kiss you.

Hungrily he rips your top apart, as if it were made of paper.

You quiver at his touch, fear set aside and now unrelentingly yearning for all of him.

“You need not worry…I will take, good, good care of you.”

You nod, watching him soon trail his lips down to your exposed chest.

He circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple, taking it entirely in his mouth to hear you moan out; the other in his hand, his hips grinding to meet your heat as he grinds into you through the fabrics keeping you apart.

“You are a marveling beauty.” He adds, his hands finding the hem of your shorts and pulling them right down, along with your panties.

He pulled back, holding your legs apart and examining every part of you, taking in the view of his next meal.

He watched you shyly try to look away, smirking when he saw how utterly messy your cunt was, glistening and dripping juices down to the sheets.

He didn’t waste much time after that, kissing your inner thigh before planting one on your clit.

He made the most deep, sinful noises as he lapped at your cunt, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he inserts two long and slender fingers inside you.

He seemed to almost gain more pleasure from sucking on your clit than you did, almost.

You reacted like a beast in heat, legs trembling and hands gripping the sheets as your thighs pressed the sides of his face to pull him deeper into you.

You came faster than ever before. Blade sucked every drop out of you, wiping the corner of his mouth before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

He kissed you once more, not biting this time. Yet.

Without giving you time to recoup- he shed his clothing and slapped his cock on your folds, slipping it inbetween them to get it ready for you.

“I need to taste you dear…truly taste you.”

“M-my blood?” You ask, feeling even weaker and more lustful.

“Yes” he whispers close to your lips, “You will let me drink from you, won’t you, my little temptress?”

You nod- pulling him close to you as if you’d wither without him.

“You are such an eager woman. I quite like that.” He says, before pushing his entire length deep, deep inside you. You groan, eyebrows furrowed harshly as you experience such a reveling sensation.

“Fuck-“ He breathes, “You’re so tight…do you ache for me so deep? You’re sucking me in so much…such a naughty whore you are.”

He moved in and out slowly, making you feel every vein and along his shaft.

You could feel his breathe on your chest, and soon his teeth.

He sinked them into the top of your breast, sucking the blood out of you ferociously as he rutted inside you faster now, making you cry out as tears rolled down your face in pleasure.

“Ah- Blade!…”

“It will only hurt for a moment…I’ll fuck you so deeply you won’t dare to forget it.” He spouts, his mouth dripping with your blood before going back in to take more.

You quickly notice a mirror behind Blade, you haven’t noticed it before but he wasn’t in it of course. All your blurry vision could attest was your spread apart pussy, gaping with a thick hole as you watched yourself be torn apart in the most delicious way, blood dripping down to your nipple, soon to be licked up from Blade tongue, as your body moved with the rhythm of the bed; snapping out of your trance once you heard his suckling.

He whimpered and moaned as he drank, gripping your ass harder as he thrusted into you at a pace you could nearly pass out from.

So much of your cum created a ring around his cock, squelching noises filled the room and muffled the crackling of the wood in the fire.

His grasp on the fat of your ass deepened, possessiveness overwhelming him.

“You’re mine now. You don’t belong in those treacherous woods, you will stay right here.” He commanded, imaging all the ways he’d ruin your perfect pussy, wrapped around him so well he was convinced you were destined to take him, to be his and his only to fuck, eat, and fill.

In response to his hold, you clenched your walls around him tighter until you felt warm fluid rush into your womb, nodding to his wishes profusely as you release together in the romantically gothic room, your breath huffing as you came down from an intense high.

Blade on the other hand, well the stamina of a vampire is quite impressive.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#blade hsr #blade smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade honkai #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai fanart #honkai x reader #hsr #hsr smut #vampire blade #vampire smut #vampire #vampiric #vampire fic #jo’s posts

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vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Let's Look Over The Garden Wall

Summary: One wants an easy meal and one wants to play house.

Word Count: 9.9k

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), MDNI, Modern AU, Vampire AU, Contract Marriage, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, pet name? (calls you good girl) TW: Blood & Blood drinking, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, slight orgasm denial, slight corruption kink, wedding night, temperature play? He falls hard, slow fic, tragedy

Authors note: This whole fic was a challenge since I wanted to write it kinda from Alhaitham’s pov. I’m not really knowledgeable about vampires, so in this fic they’re just a type of monster and not undead, and vampire blood can turn humans into monsters. Enjoy!

Side note: Here is the other side, Finale

The secretary had just arrived at the office not too long ago, shift starting at six pm and going until midnight. The typical hours for a creature of the night.

Like a sweet breeze that blew stray leaves through his office’s open window, a stranger came gallivanting through the boundaries of his door, contract in hand. Faruzan, the office receptionist trailing after you with your proper introduction.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting this when he walked through the sliding doors of the building. The biggest company in Sumeru, the firm that specialized in such dubious pacts.

In an age where humans now outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten the once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to play by mortal rules. One such rule, vampires can no longer drink human blood.

Animal substitutes were of course inferior in both taste and satisfaction, any vampire would know this. However, there’s a loophole to this law. Vampires can’t drink human blood legally unless it’s consensual by both parties, established through contracts. Business exchanges for money, power, or glory.

Of course, this practice is heavily regulated. Hunters who uphold the balance ready to rip the hearts out of those who dare make an unfair deal. Alhaitham is the simple secretary who files these contracts, not one of the agents tasked with such things.

Still, he’s intrigued. Even in this office there are many who have yet to see the face of this elusive vampire, how did this human identify him? He was looking for an excuse to stray away from dull lines of files, might as well entertain your musings.

The ashen-haired immortal pulls out a seat for you, nodding to Faruzan sending her out of his office, giving you privacy. Alhaitham ambles to the other side of the polished wood, settling down on his plush office chair.

“The process for filling a contract is straightforward, even though this consultation wasn’t planned, if negotiations go well you’ll then undergo a psychological evaluation.”

You nodded your head lightheartedly, posture relaxed in the chair.

“So,” he begins.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.”

Dead silence. He certainly wasn’t expecting a proposal this Monday night. Were you wasting his time with a joke?

You must’ve read his unfazed mask. Quickly pulling a pen and notepad from your pocket.

“I’m being serious, I want you to be my husband.” Hands swiftly jotting sentences down on paper.

In your graceless handwriting, you listed all your qualifications. Age, name, blood type, and financial status. You also detailed some self-prescribed personality traits.

Alhaitham skips over that section.

Marriage contracts weren’t unheard of, nor were marriages between humans and vampires. He believes such practices weren’t deemed illegal solely because of human morbid curiosity and desires.

No immortal, with their centuries of knowledge and wisdom, would waste such energy on a mortal, without a price of course. It would be a fool’s errand to not have fair compensation.

“For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine.” You point the pen toward him.

How romantic.

“I’d say you’re getting the better end of the deal, Mr. Alhaitham.” There’s a curl to your lips, resting your elbows upon his polished desk.

With a slight sigh, Alhaitham pulls out a form, pen swiftly recording the necessary information. There’s going to be a long process of straightening out the clauses, but this should suffice for approval.

“Why me?” He inquires, straightening out the proposal on his desk.

“You’re handsome, have money, and I like your voice.”

The rustling of papers and pens stopped. Dead unamused silence.

“Pfft! Too brash? Sorry, sorry, I was only joking,” giggling as you waved it off.

“Well, to be fair the real reason isn’t much better, to be honest.” You leaned in closer, creeping towards the unseen boundaries of his personal space.

“I often see you passing through the streets, guess I got enamored from there.” Your smile was shameless but your cheeks were tinted pink.

A hopeless romantic, that answer suffices him for now. He could’ve easily shown you the door, but life has been stagnant for a few decades. History repeats itself if you live long enough to see it, new occurrences are rare. As the sky deepens from indigo to midnight, two bodies sit across from each other, discussing sentences written on paper.

“I’ll contact you in three business days with the verdict, have a good night.”

“I shall await the news.” You beamed at him, warm and icy hands meeting for a handshake.

Just as you entered, you left with that same giddiness. Now left with his thoughts, Alhaitham reviewed the documents, he had three days to ponder whether or not to submit them to the legal team, and through the judgment of a certain scarlet-eyed General Hunter.

As per Sumeru regulations, all offices run by vampires must have uncovered glass windows. An attempt conquered by humans to enfeeble creatures of the night. Alhaitham’s beryl gaze traveled up the length of the building stationed across the street.

What an ironic placement for a hospital to be facing the biggest firm staffed by immortality. Or perhaps it was strategic, after all the most desperate humans are the ones who lay upon their deathbeds for one last hurrah.

The perfect scheme to keep the blood contracts flowing in.

Teal eyes observe the room right across through the glass, it seems freshly vacant. New untouched sheets, new unflatten pillow, and fresh towels.

Alhaitham can now confirm the validity of your statement, a half-truth.

When deciding on a contract, one must weigh the pros and cons, to see if they balance or if one side gives away to another. Your demands? You wanted to experience married life, all aspects of it. Your offer? Your everything.

All your assets together can’t hold a candle to the amount Alhaitham has accumulated for centuries, but it’s a decent amount. Perhaps due to a medical settlement.

Alhaitham has lived long enough to rein in primal desires, he can suffice off animal substitutes just fine. However, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want a taste of the real thing again. You offer him a steady supply, and to give him every last drop after seven years.

Yes, all of this for a mere seven-year contract. A deal heavily tipped in the favor of the vampire, not even a mere fraction of the time immortality offers. However, what piqued his interest the most weren’t the benefits listed.

A garden wall the tall vampire can’t peer over. Insight only attainable by those who near the end of their finite paths. What’s it like to have agency? What’s it like to have such finite time?

He’ll have seven years to observe. He submits the forms on the third day, delivering your verdict over the phone. Alhaitham agrees to entertain your little daydream.

On part that it was Alhaitham who personally filed the forms, the approval process went swimmingly, skipping the paper line. Tighnari oversaw the psychological evaluation, test after test confirming the sanity of your mind, speeding up the process of getting that stamp.

–

“What flowers do you like? I’m planning the decorations.” Your legs swinging under his kitchen table.

The contract was approved, hands held and certificates signed at the town hall, your belongings moved into his house. It’s excessive to want a celebration after all of that.

“Whichever flowers you want.”

Alhaitham will hold his tongue, after all, he’s signed to play the role of a husband.

–

The venue was spacious, high ceilings with marble floors and pillars, all of which were lavishly cluttered with Padisarahs, Sumeru Roses, and Kalpalata Lotuses. Alhaitham stood at the altar just off to the side of the wedding officiant. Tuxedo crisp and hands folded together, he scans over the rows of guests invited.

Since there weren’t any in-laws, Alhaitham assumed you wouldn’t have much of a social network. No one’s correct all the time, he ignores the piercing glares of a few eyes. The all-too-loud tones of a grand piano resound through the room. The previously shut doors open to reveal your figure. Embellished dress and veil perfectly framed by the carved entranceway as you ambled your way up the aisle.

The twilight hues of the sky dye the white gown in everchanging vibrancy as you passed by the standing crowd, up the steps to the altar, and finally in front of him. The overwhelmingly floral scent of the bouquet itches his nose.

Alhaitham pays no mind to the soliloquy of the officiant, he simply follows the rehearsed procedures. Sliding the gold band onto your finger and allowing you to do the same to him, lifting the veil to reveal your starry-eyed gaze he places a practiced kiss against your warm lips.

Is this excessive ritual over yet? No.

Alhaitham stands in the corner of the reception hall, hand nursing a glass of wine. The rich spices of the buffet offered to the guest irritated his palate. Supernatural creatures with their enhanced senses, a double-edged sword. Human food serves no purpose to vampires, it’s over-seasoned and pungent. At least your species has created drinks such as coffee and wine, delicacies even immortal creatures can enjoy.

In the center of the artificially lit hall, you eagerly greeted all your guests as they beamed at you. Giggling and hugging each person as an entourage of three friends helped with that embellished gown of yours. Two pairs of eyes from said entourage occasionally glared at him, their bodies forming a barrier to separate groom from bride. Candace and Dehya were the names you introduced to him.

Your starry-eyed self blissfully unaware of the silent cold war as the scarlet-haired dancer calls the attention of the two hunters back for the bouquet toss. Alhaitham was nothing more than just a decoration, you just wanted an excuse to prance around in a pretty white dress and throw a fancy party. He’s your husband, he’ll tolerate this daydream.

–

“Did you enjoy the reception?”

Only after the send-off and closing ceremony of the celebration, when the bride and groom were behind the thick oak doors of their suite, that you seemed to remember the decoration named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Yes, it was lovely.” The wine provided by the venue was of the highest quality, it entertained him enough.

“I hope you’re not upset at me being busy with guests.” Your arms found their way around his waist.

Quite comfortable encroaching on his space huh.

“I’m not.” Better they talk to you and not him.

As his cold hands pat the exposed skin of your back, his teal eyes didn’t miss the trail of goosebumps that prickled your skin. Shall he move on to the next scene? The lacing of your dress seems quite complicated, he assumes that it must have taken a few pairs of hands to tie it. Should he be a good husband?

“Do you need help with this?” His baritone voice was right against your ear, noticing the flush on the tips.

“Yes.” For once your voice was just barely above a whisper, a blushing bride.

The lacing weaved in and out of eyelets running down along the length of your back, how troublesome. Always one for efficiency, Alhaitham simply takes a handful of the taught lace and pulls, they snapped like simple threads. Such things offer no resistance to a creature of the night. The gasp that escaped your lips feed into something deep within.

With the bonds loosened, the embellished dress of yours lost the fight against gravity, fabric pooling at your feet. Revealing to teal eyes the lacy white stockings, garter belt, and panties, all the hallmarks of a wedding night. It’s impossible to deny the hunger crawling up his throat, no force of nature could resist such a sight.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? It’s rude to not offer the groom some help, no?” His hunger enjoyed that scarlet flush on your face.

Indecisive fingers going for the easiest button, opening the tuxedo jacket allowing him to shimmy it off his broad shoulders. Teal eyes continued to survey your flushed face, the smirk on his waiting for your hands to continue. Obeying his silent command like a good bride, you loosened the bow tie next, finally freeing him from that stiff collar.

Slowly your eyes peered up, asking if the torment was over yet, the slight rise in his ash brow directing you to resume. From your lips came the beginnings of a whine to which he sternly shushed. If you couldn’t even undress him how would you be able to do the other vulgar activities?

Finally relenting, your fingers continued with their clumsy attempt at unbuttoning his dress shirt, once a small window of his chest appeared your face pressed against the cool skin, staying there until all the buttons were undone. Oh? So even you can feel shame?

“Shall we continue on the bed, my bride?”

Your face was still hidden in his chest as you nodded, where did that shameless nature of yours go? With your gaze adverted he didn’t even bother hiding the curl of his lips. Sweeping you off the ground, he could hear the flutter in your chest increasing as the distance between the bed closes.

Upon silk sheets, Alhaitham settles down with you in between his legs and back against his chest. One key difference between humans and vampires? Body heat, one creature’s cells produces warmth, while the other simply remains the temperature of the environment. Your flushed skin seared itself into his, icy and hot mending together to create an equilibrium.

Of course, a good husband would warm his wife up. Alhaitham runs his cool palms along the length of your plush thighs and leg, absorbing the warmth as his own, soothing the shivers and goosebumps on your skin. Every now and then boldly creeping up the sides of your waist to twist at your perked nipples, enjoying every jolt and whine.

“Oh? Since when was this transparent?”

A firm hand grasps your chin, directing your vision towards white lace panties, the fingers on his other hand tracing over the shape of your cunt through the soaked fabric. Another lovely whine left your lips, face burning even more as you weakly protested in his hold, too powerless to do anything.

Skilled digits honed in on the nub that made your body jolt away, rubbing the faintest of circles over the delicate fabric, your legs trapped by his robust arms standing no chance to preserve your shattered dignity. As such, you had to follow his desires tonight.

“Or are you excited just by a few fleeting touches? What a lewd bride you are.”

It seems that you were telling the whole truth when you exclaimed how much you liked his voice, his finger could feel the slick that began to seep through the lace. Brushing the fabric to the side, Alhaitham allowed his middle finger to collect the slick along your slit allowing the rest of his digits to warm up against your cunt’s soft mounds. His throat felt parched as the sweet scent teased his nose, but now was not the time, maybe later in the night.

“Will you be honest?” The heel of this palm freely pressed against your clit as his middle finger continued to run up and down your wet lips, every now and then almost slipping.

Your body couldn’t hide its eagerness, hole clenching at nothing every time his finger passed by. However, he needed confirmation from you. Communication is important in a contract no?

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be honest.” You pressed your back flat against his chest, trying to hide your face but his firm hold wouldn’t allow it.

“Good girl, then tell me what you desire.” His crisp breath provides your searing skin some relief.

Your plush lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes shut, cheeks heating up even more. It wouldn’t be good if you passed out from heat exhaustion so quickly. He grinds his palm into that sensitive nub, tormenting the answer out of you, nectar now dripping onto the sheets below.

“I want to c-cum,” You breathed out.

How direct, close but it wasn’t what he was looking for.

“You have to be more clear with your instructions, how do you want to cum?”

“Y-your fingers.”

“Good girl.” Finally, his finger breached your soaked entrance.

Pulsating walls welcomed him with unyielding squeezes, dragging his soaked digit further. Your sweet moans and whines resounded through the spacious suite, the volume of your voice directing him toward that spongey spot deep within. You were wet enough for another finger, so Alhaitham adds another, two digits stretching and exploring your soaked cavern.

“Mmmh! T-there!” Your toes were curling.

“Mmm.” The hum vibrated in his chest as his fingers went hard at work, thrusting into your quivering walls.

Each time his palm would slap against your clit your honest hole would clench down so endearingly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, the muscles in your leg tensing up more and more. It’s obvious that you were close, but before he fulfilled your demands, he decided to be proactive and prepare for the next step.

Releasing your chin from his grasp, allowing your head to lull back against his shoulder. Alhaitham reaches between your bodies, hands never pausing their pace, swift fingers undoing the confines of his trousers. Allowing for his member to lay right against your back, the jolt of your body at the foreign object pressing against you made his hunger worse.

“Did you get more turned on? You’re clenching down tighter, did you want it that badly?”

Even if your eyes refused to meet his, the way your hips grind against his length, warming it up, told him all he needed to know. Your gummy walls constrict more around his fingers, it’s time to wrap up this scene, the next one is even more exciting. So his palm now digs into your clit, circling the now swollen bud in combination with his finger pressing against that nice spot deep inside.

“C-cummin-”

How cute, he didn’t even need to ask you to announce it. Letting your body ripple with the force of the orgasm, trembling limbs within his solid hold. If he was merciful, he would’ve continued to slide his fingers in and out, or maybe continue to caress your little nub, guiding you back to reality. However, hunger doesn’t allow for mercy.

Removing his soaked digits away from your pulsating cunt, teal eyes observing the transparent strings that clung to them with amusement. A small appetizer wouldn’t spoil the main meal, skilled tongue cleaning his fingers of your slick. Your head still limp against his shoulder, eyes rolled back in the throws of pleasure. To bring you back down to earth, it's best to use a new type of force.

Effortlessly, your hips were lifted up dripping cunt lined up with his impatient length below. In one fluid motion, your walls encase everything, drenched cunt giving no resistance as his tip kisses the spongy spot. Alhaitham lets a hiss escape him, it was as if he thrusted into the sun, your walls quickly bringing his member up to its temperature.

From your lips another moan was ripped out, oh it seems that you’ve plummeted back to reality. Your cunt trembled yet gripped onto his cock like a vice, coaxing him to go in deeper, encouraging his hunger to abuse your gummy walls even more. Barely riding out one wave of pleasure before another drowned you.

The hunters at your wedding could stick to your side the whole celebration, they could glare at him all they wanted, and they could try their damndest to keep the vampire at a distance. However, it was all efforts wasted in vain. For it was you, the blushing bride, who walked straight into his arms in the end, so open and receptive.

As he slides out just the slightest bit, your cunt protested by desperately clamping down, begging for his thick girth to stay in. In response he tightened his grip on your hips, lifting your body back up before bouncing you back down. What a glutton for pleasure you were, even as your little mouth whimpered and babbled, your walls thanked each slap of his hips with squeezes.

Sadistic hunger wanted more, to thrust deeper, to bully that poor spot inside of you over and over again with his thick tip as your walls stretch to accommodate the girth. His thighs collected the mixture of sweat and slickness from your body at each thrust. Your fingers dug into his hands, fingers white as you tried to grasp at anything to ground yourself.

“F-fast, too m-much.” There was drool escaping the corner of your parted lips, eyes barely back from seeing the inside of your head.

“Oh? Do you want me to stop?”

Alhaitham grinds to a stop, member still pressing deep inside you as he pulled you closer so his breath could ghost over your nape. In an instant, your mouth and cunt protested, you should be more clear with your instructions.

“N-noo.” Crying over the ruined tension.

“No? You wanted this.” His finger finds its way back to that swollen nub, flicking it a few times to watch the jumps of your body.

“If I let you cum, then I’ll do it my way, is that clear, my bride?” Tormenting your clit with firm circles.

“Yes! Please! P-pleasee.”

So weak against his voice, the sweet calls of a beast to lure you into the depths of depravity. Such is the fate of a shameless bride. Thus, his hips sprang back into action with renewed vigor. One hand keeps your hips still and the other remains on your clit to force that knot to reappear deep inside you.

Nothing but nonsense and moans babbled from your loose face, nectar dripping down to his heavy balls as they slapped against you with each pistoning of his hips. Your frantic hands entangled themselves into ash-mint locks as he felt gummy walls closing in tighter and tighter, your toes curling at the end of spread legs. Sinful slaps increased in frequency throughout the room as did the pace of the finger on your clit.

Your tense body held the warning of another storm, another fall off the edge into the depths. Alhaitham brushes his nose up your nape, the floral scent didn’t distract him from the goal laying just behind the skin. Your nerves were exhausted from the shooting pleasure, now was the perfect time to finally get his share. It’s only fair.

Prepping the area with a slow lick as his hips continued their brutal pace, incisors brushed against the delicate skin before piercing through. His hand shot up from your hip to your neck, a loose grip holding you still as your body tensed then violently shivered. The frenzy clamping of your cunt on his length was proof of your fall. Loose jaw uttering out broken moans as tears dripped down your chin.

The fresh scarlet flooded over his tongue and down his throat as Alhaitham continued with his slow suckling. Ah, you were very much like a flower, so delicate, so fragrant, and so bittersweet. It’s been almost a century since he last tasted the real thing, his body celebrated by filling your walls with thick release. An equivalent exchange of some sort.

A human body is quite frail, losing over two pints of blood borders on fatal territory. It’s not good to deplete a resource so quickly. Alhaitham releases your neck, running his tongue over the wound to seal it up. Teal eyes checked your complexion to ensure his measurements were accurate. Cheeks still with a healthy red flush as your chest heaved with pants, eyes glistening with tears. Such a shameless sight. He allows your head to roll onto his shoulder.

The rhythm of your heart settles back to its resting state as Alhaitham analyzes the taste he just experienced.

“I love you,” you breathed into his shoulder.

Alhaitham stiffens, the herbal aftertaste of your blood was bitter, the tang dried out his mouth causing a drawn-out pause. This is no good, he can’t miss the cue to say the line a bride longs to hear from her groom.

“I love you too.”

The choir of crickets from the world outside filled the void along with your pants.

“Pfft! Maybe let’s not say that, it’s too weird.” You shamelessly laughed, lifting your face from his skin.

What a relief, at least you seem to still have sense. Such words felt forcefully wedged into a script that wasn’t written for it. Might as well remove the line altogether. Moving on from the scene, Alhaitham lets you enjoy the warmth reflected off his body by yours.

It’s in the clauses to allow you to enjoy all aspects of marriage, so enjoy this honeymoon segment.

“Haitham, can you carry this for me please?”

“Haitham, I can’t reach, can you get it please?”

“Haitham, let’s have panipuri tonight!... Can you cook it please?”

It would’ve been better if he remained nothing more than just a decoration. It would’ve been easier if he was just a view for you to see behind glass. Perhaps Alhaitham’s acute eyes misread the contract, did you want a husband or just a maid?

Instead of sitting down in his own house to enjoy a book, he finds himself saddled with domestic responsibilities.

Must you call on him for everything?

Laundry and groceries aren’t that heavy. If you can’t reach the top shelves with the duster, then just get a chair. No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ could prevent the downward tug of his lips every time you call him that doltish name. Your justification of a ‘nickname’ between lovers was moronic.

“Huh… Haitham how come you only use salt?”

Why do you make a creature who doesn’t consume such foods cook them? You’re more than capable of cooking for yourself every day. Although, Alhaitham would prefer it if you stopped using such overly fragrant herbs and spices.

Of course, when two breaths occupy the same space, there are bound to be pieces that don’t fit together, just as two breaths never sync. Alhaitham already factored those into his decision, but this was more proof of why a theory is always second to application. How troublesome the reality of marriage is, no wonder divorce rates are so high.

A good actor knows how to stay in character, so he’ll keep these thoughts to himself. Just as he lists your quirks silently.

One, you’re capricious. One moment silently enjoying a drama on the TV you asked him to purchase, body hogging the entire expanse of a couch. The next, you’ll be humming as plates and cups clatter in the sink, or the heavy thumps of your steps as you bound through the house with a mop. Alhaitham prefers it when you’re stationary, at least it doesn’t disturb his reading.

–

Two, you drink tea, an unfathomable amount of it. A warm cup always nestled between your fingers, bitter water mixed with honey. The herbal tang finds its way into your blood, making it taste like medicine. Thus, Alhaitham treats it as such, medicine just to alleviate suppressed bloodlust taken in moderation.

–

Three, you wanted to celebrate everything. Each square of a calender marked with scribbles. Why celebrate a celebration that’s already past? What is so special about a birthday? The past two years you purchased the same bundle of pungent flowers that made up that bouquet on that day to gift to him.

“Don’t you want a taste? I saved a slice just for you. Oh, would you eat it if I sprinkled some of my blood on it?”

Alhaitham swiftly accepts the plate from you, lifting the fork of overly sweet birthday cake into his mouth. Useless carbs take up space in his body, but such a thing causes no harm. Better to taste like pure sugar and not medicine.

–

The worst quirk of yours? You rise as soon as the sun greets the sky, adamant to not miss a single second of a day. Every day’s itinerary is filled with spur-of-the-moment decisions, such as going to a farmers market only open on Saturdays between the hours of 9 am and 2 pm. And how you drag him along.

Curses, only a human would drag a creature of the night into the day. What sadistic creatures, delighting in others' misery, you’re no exception.

“I thought you said vampires aren’t like how TV depicts them.” Curious eyes observe his slouched figure.

Vampires aren’t like how those dramas of yours depict them. No formal invitation to cross wooden thresh holds, no garlic braids as an effective shield, and no turning into a pile of ash at the mere rays of a star.

If so, then vampires would’ve been long gone by now. However, just because the sunlight can’t kill a vampire-

“It doesn’t mean it’s not unpleasant.” His stoic voice was too tired to add a bite.

You continued to stare at him with wonderment, as if what he said was the most complex theory known to the universe. Those dramas must’ve rotted that mind of yours, he concludes. You’re beyond saving.

“I see.” Gentle hands lift the excessive sun hat from your head.

Reaching on your tiptoes you place it atop his head, the straw brim providing some reprieve for his irritated skin. Shuffling the hat around until it’s securely nested along his now trussed ash locks. Satisfied, you lower yourself back down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. We can go home..”

Tenderly, your hands clasped around his, guiding him into the shade. The whole walk your hands never left his, eyes always searching for the next patch of shadows to lead him into. For the rest of the weekend, you just watched your dramas, the sensation of guilt must’ve muted your voice.

Good. He celebrated this rare break in his library away from you.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Monday night rolled around again, as he passes the living room, he spots your loafing body napping on his couch as the TV acted as white noise. Tsk. Regardless, it’s time to get to work, he walks toward the front door.

“Wait,” came a soft command, dripping with sleep.

From around the corner, your figure comes stumbling towards Alhaitham, his hand still firmly on the knob. Hands busy trying to rub the fatigue away from your eyes, blinking away the pleasant dream you were just in.

Why did you abandon it? Alhaitham doesn’t know.

Your frame reaches his, transferring some of your warmth to him, arms outstretched towards his neck. Teal eyes don’t miss the way your drowsy legs were wobbling. To prevent any accidents, he supports your body with an arm around the waist.

Just as he feels your body steady, clammy palms encase the sides of his face. Pulling it down as your supple lips pressed against his cool cheek. Did you traverse all the way from the sofa just for a kiss?

“Have a good night at work.” Your shameless smile beamed.

A habit formed from one of your dramas, a wife bidding goodbye to her husband with a sweet kiss to boost his spirits. Curiosity must have gotten the better of you, or maybe you wanted to amuse yourself, two possibilities Alhaitham devises.

–

“So, how’s married life treating you?” Kaveh’s smug tone grated against his eardrums as the blond rested an elbow on the bar table.

Alhaitham couldn’t stop the frown from forming, nor the heavy sigh, so he took a hearty sip of his wine. Emptying the glass in one fluid motion.

“Heh, I see you’ve been enjoying the spoils of marriage very much,” Tighnari snickered.

“Sure, if you wish to see it that way.” Alhaitham’s hand found itself pouring another glass.

It seems that everyone around the ashen-haired vampire was enjoying the spoils of this odd union, everyone but him that is. His miseries fueling the chaff nature of his acquaintances, still he needed a reprieve to drink.

Not that herbal blood of yours, but something actually palatable like the fragrant wine washing the frustrations down his throat. It’s not marriage, it’s having to work overtime.

“Regardless, you signed a contract, you must uphold the clauses.” Cyno’s scarlet eyes leered over the rim of his glass.

Alhaitham sighs, he should’ve drank alone.

–

The tavern wasn’t a far journey away from his house. The deep hues of night slowly shift to the youthful flushes of dawn. He’s been drinking for quite some time, it didn’t matter, alcohol has no effect on a body such as his.

Alhaitham twists the key, the door creaking ajar just to reveal your figure with arms crossed. Disappointment ever so clear in those eyes of yours.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your tone.

After a few hours of reprieve, Alhaitham is welcomed home with an interrogation. Wonderful. Why should he answer this meek creature standing in front of him? He could just walk to bed and get the rest he deserves.

‘You must uphold the clauses.’

Right, Alhaitham has to play the role of a husband, he signed a contract, too late to just burn the papers now.

“I went drinking with coworkers,” he curtly answers.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?” Your head tilts, disappointed eyes still honed on him.

Why does he have to inform you of his every movement? Who were you to demand so much of his individuality? Alhaitham couldn’t help the frown that reappeared, directed at you, the hurdle that blocked him from entering his own home.

The grandfather clock counted the seconds in the background, two sets of eyes locked in a stare-down. One frowning and one disappointed. How long will this last?

Your shoulders slumped as a sigh left your lungs. Eyes finally finding rest behind two heavy lids.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Your back straightens again as you lean in closer, eyes recentering on his towering form. They no longer held the burden of disappointment, they twinkled with something else.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call. I got worried.”

What wasted concern, why worry for an immortal creature?

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either, but if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text. So I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

Alhaitham scans over the discoloration hanging heavily under your eyes. An unpleasant sensation crawled up his spine. Phone shut off by habit, unaware of how you were losing sleep as he emptied bottle after bottle. He has to remedy the situation now, it’s what a husband should do.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

Is he allowed back into the confines of his own house now?

Your hands were now positioned defiantly on your hips, brows quirked up as if expecting something more.

No.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

The magic words to finally open the path into the house, words that finally returned that grin to your face. Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

Ah, he knows what that twinkle in your eyes was, sincerity.

Audiences rarely see the behind-the-scenes of a movie, with directors always handpicking which mistakes are charming enough to be shown as a blooper. Audiences don’t see the multiple scenes filmed then refilmed, they can’t experience the long hours, and they don’t know how many times lines were misread. Three years is enough time for actors to learn their lines.

“Is my drama too loud?”

Alhaitham peers over the top of the journal, focusing on your face peeking through the entrance of his library. Judging by the apron, he guesses it's almost time for dinner, the dialogue playing on the TV was just above a muffle from here.

“It’s fine, remember to turn on the kitchen hood.”

“Okay, which wine did you want to baste the meat in?”

“Top left, how long will it take?”

“Pfft, famished already? 15 minutes, you won’t waste away in that time right, Haitham?”

The ever-so-adventurous palate of yours and the ever-so-drab palate of his. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, two existences that bend and twist each other until equilibrium. Equilibrium in the form of a steak basted in red wine, rare for him and medium for you. A dinner that could be enjoyed by both breaths.

–

“Oh?” Your bewildered eyes blink at the bouquet presented to you.

A wrapped box held tenderly in your hands. Alhaitham had taken note of a certain scribble marked on the calendar, it was he who got the fourth bouquet. Placing an order ahead of time to ensure the freshest flowers.

“You said they smelled bad.”

“I’m used to it.” A half-truth.

Your lips couldn’t suppress its toothy grin, balancing the box in one hand as the other accepts the bouquet.

“Since you have every book in existence, I got you something else.” You nudged the wrapped present toward him.

Unraveling the decorative paper his eyes were greeted by the sight of a carved figure of a… what is it? Meeting your eager gaze, the quirk in his eyebrow told enough.

“It’s a hawk, I saw in storage that you used to collect these decorations.”

Ah, you found a petty hobby he had decades ago to torment a certain someone. A figure serves no practical purpose in a home, but the eagerness of your eyes was enough to find the endearing gift a place on a shelf.

–

“How does one make their blood tastier?” You pondered into his embrace.

His tongue traveled up the nape of your neck to collect the escaped drops of scarlet and to close up the wound. Your bare skin pressed against his, rising his temperature to a pleasant warmth.

He could feel every shiver as his length shifted within your overstimulated walls, recovering the overwhelming pleasure experienced just moments earlier.

What an obvious answer, stop drinking that tea of yours. However, Alhaitham prefers when you have the energy to trot through crowded walkways at dusk with him in tow. Bittersweetness is an acquired taste, one that took him some time.

“Since you have enough clarity to ask questions, I’m assuming you’re up for another round.” His husky breath ghosts over your ear.

“Wait~ I’m still sens-Ah!”

–

Over time, something as short as five years, even a trickle of water can crave a home for itself in the rocky foundations of the earth that’s existed since the dawn of time.

The side of the polished dinner table with the clearest view of the TV was your side.

The mug left in the sink with the faint aroma of tea and sweet honey was your mug.

The couch with cushions misshapen and molded by repeated use was your couch.

Such is the lull of domestic reality, each kiss at the door to bid goodbye and each kiss to welcome him back.

Nothing, not even immortality, is resistant to time.

Due to the crowd you’ve built your circle from, hunters were semi-frequent guests at his home. Much to your delight and his dismay. A husband should get along with his wife’s friends.

“Your complexion has gotten paler.” Candace’s heterochromatic eyes narrowed, her hands turning your face from side to side.

“Mmm, I haven’t been going out during the day as much.” Resting the weight of your head within her palms.

“Bullshit, he’s been using you like livestock,” Dehya snapped.

“Mmm? Not really, he says my blood taste like leaves.” Halfheartedly lifting your face out of Candace’s warm hold.

“Don’t cover for that bastard,” the Flame-Mane hunter scowls.

“Need I remind you ‘that bastard’ is still in the room?” Alhaitham breaks his silence.

“Who said you could speak?” Sapphires clash with beryls.

“Who’s home are you currently guests in?”

Even without glancing down, Alhaitham could tell that Dehya’s hand was twitching to reach for the silver dagger hidden up her sleeve. The hand then falters back down, Candace must’ve also noticed, steadfast eyes sending a warning to the other hunter.

“Of all people, why did you have to marry this vampire?” Dehya turns to you exasperated.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

With the finger pressed against your lip and your eyes wandering up towards nothing, Alhaitham couldn’t tell if you were deep in thought or just faking it.

Your pondering filled the room with silence, three pairs of eyes intently trained on your frame. Eyelids closed as you deepened your thought. After a few beats, they fluttered back open.

“Because he’s just too handsome.” There’s that shameless smile again.

The disgusted expression that plastered itself all over the hunter’s face at your response almost pushed a quiet laugh from his lips. However, Alhaitham wanted to avoid a physical confrontation from starting in his house.

If there’s one virtue you have, it’s that you’re a fair person. You perplex your friends and husband to equal degrees.

It’s now time for the hunters to start their night, much like how Alhaitham will soon report to the office. The two women and you were now at the threshold of the door bidding goodbye, their skeptical eyes every now and then glaring behind you at the vampire.

“Oh, one more thing,” your voice perks up.

Arms encapsulated two sturdy frames, pulling them close against yours.

“I love you guys.” Your words make the two robust warriors take a sharp inhale, bodies tensing up momentarily.

“We love you too, very much.” Candace’s voice forced itself to steady.

“Yeah.” Dehya pulled you closer.

After a few beats, you pulled away from your friends. Lighthearted grin lopsided on your face.

“Alright then, stay safe out there,” you chimed, waving at them.

After their figures disappeared from view, Alhaitham shut the oak door. You still peered out the curtains, daydreaming something as the stars reflected in your eyes. He observes for a moment before he collects the cups and dishes that once held tea and sweets to entertain bygone guests.

You were already surrounded by love, genuine love. Why did you sell your soul to experience something you already had? Alhaitham will save that question for another day.

Would you try saying that line to him again? Maybe this time he read his line without hesitation.

–

Alhaitham’s heavy lids shot open. The unwelcome greetings of morning birds signaled the time of day. Keen eyes scanned over the empty space beside him, sheets still trussed in the shape of a smaller figure. The bird songs rang like sirens, heightening his senses.

For once his ageless body left the bed without protest, swift steps pattering through the dim halls until the backyard came into view. Sunlight poured in through the open door, the wooden mounts perfectly framing your slumped figure.

Tired body balancing upon the basket of damp laundry, halfway from the backdoor and clothes line, you stopped to take labored breaths.

Swiftly he was by your side, towering stature blocking you from the harsh rays. Alhaitham lifts your fatigued body from the ground, giving your aching legs relief. Even with the sun hanging high in the sky, your skin didn’t absorb an ounce of warmth.

He takes you to the safety of the dim house, settling you onto the soft cushions of your couch.

“Don’t push yourself.” Alhaitham shifts a few pillows behind your back.

“I wasn’t, the laundry needs to be hung,” you huffed.

“Just call for me.”

You sounded out a whine of protest, but your breathing steadied. Alhaitham moves to stand back to full height, ready to finish the task awaiting out in the sun.

“Wait,” came your soft call.

Plucking your favorite sun hat off, you bestowed it upon unkempt ash locks still dusted with sleep. Fussing with the oversized straw brim until it stayed in place. Once satisfied you beamed, fingers caressing his smooth cheeks before placing a peck from curled lips.

“Thank you, Haitham.”

Adamant hands smoothed over the damp clothes, ensuring that they didn’t dry on the line with wrinkles that stayed stubbornly. The morning rays felt like sand against his exposed skin, but the hat bestowed upon him made it tolerable.

–

“It’s dusk, would you like to stroll through the market tonight?” Beryl eyes inspect the curled figure of his wife among cushions and blankets.

“Mmm, maybe not tonight.” You sink deeper into your couch, drama long forgotten.

“I see.” Alhaitham moves to the armchair just adjacent to you, a frequent perch of his now.

“Come here?”

Just as you finished blinking Alhaitham was by your side again. Slowing lifting your upper body just off the cushion, you pat the now free space, welcoming him to sit. He wouldn’t be a good husband if he were to deny such a request. So he sits.

Once the ashen-haired vampire was fully situated, your head found its place upon his thighs.

“Lap pillow,” there was that giggle of yours.

Alhaitham sighs, but he couldn’t prevent the corner of his lips from curling up, so he hides it with his book. This must be something you learned from those dramas again. He’ll humor it.

His cool fingers run along your scalp as his teal eyes switched between your resting face and the words printed along the aged paper.

Maybe not today, perhaps tomorrow when the rays of a selfish star kiss your cheeks.

–

The drinks were served quietly, the tavern didn’t seem as lively tonight. Perhaps because it’s the busy season, Spring air carries with it the signs of renewing life and tax forms.

“So, how is she, the wife?” Kaveh traverses the stagnant air.

What a redundant question, Alhaitham knows they can smell the fragrance lingering on his body from you, the aroma of flowers only found in a garden beyond a line immortals can cross. The scent of an ending journey.

“I’ll send some more Kalpalata Lotus tea, one cup a day should help with lethargy.” Tighnari prescribes, making a mental note to prepare the delivery once he returns home.

“Thank you, how much would I owe?”

“None, just a gift for your wife.”

Alhaitham hums in gratitude, and the table continued to play cards placidly. Throughout the rounds, his teal eyes stole glances over to a dark screen.

The group dispersed at dawn, but it wasn’t long before Alhaitham acknowledged the presence behind him.

“Alhaitham.”

He only glanced over his shoulder at the tan vampire.

“Remember the punishment that awaits those who dare disturb the cycle of life.” A threatening crackle resounded from the curled fingers by Cyno’s side.

Alhaitham already knows and Cyno knows it all too well. After all, the privilege of a good true death was stolen away from the white-haired man many years ago. Cursing the shorter man to eternity. Thus, Cyno now spends eternity punishing those who dare break the most sacred law.

Alhaitham responds with a nod and with that the two men parted ways as the rosy hues of dawn dyed the sky. You’re probably in bed already, it’ll be his kiss to announce his return.

–

In an age where humans outnumber vampires, with new technologies and weapons that can now threaten once untouchable creatures, immortal beings now have to obey mortal laws. The most sacred of laws, vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. It’s illegal, it’s immoral even to curse such fleeting creatures with eternity.

However, vampires are creatures born outside the grace of god from the very start, lurking in the shadows of iconoclasm. What difference would it make?

It’s his night to make dinner, steak with red wine sauce.

What is the difference between blood and wine to the inattentive eye? The scarlet hues could be easily mixed. All it would take is a sprinkle, drops stirred into the fragrant sauce served over the juicy meat, for you to abandon your humanity. For the ticking of a grandfather clock to stop its hands.

Who wouldn’t want more time?

A scene from a night now long past resurfaces at the front of Alhaitham’s mind.

–

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence after a moment of passion.

Your damp skin glistens under the moonlight, your chest rising and falling as the lust slowly blinks away from your eyes. Alhaitham’s hand on your back guides you down from cloud nine. You stared at him inquisitively, teal reflecting back to him as he remains silent.

Ashen hair tussled and scratches fading away from cooling skin, he awaits your answer, schemes manifesting.

You let out a hum, signing that you’ll humor his question this time, as your face rests against the pillow comforted by his woodsy scent.

–

If you had more time, he would have more time. More time to pick your brain. More time to search through the archives of your thoughts to decrypt you. More time to grovel at your feet for forgiveness after he rips the humanity away from your arms.

Alhaitham is a prideful thing, but he’s not a dense fool. He knows when an apology is necessary, insight gained from his time shared with you.

Teal eyes glance back behind him towards the living room, where your figure sat quietly, attention distracted by the pair of lovers on screen in the midst of a tense argument. Never once turning behind to glance into the kitchen, not one ounce of suspicion. The scene finishes.

–

“I was born a human.” Your lids opened again, meeting his beryl-like eyes.

Irises pure like the moonlight reflected in them. He hums in acknowledgment, fingers tracing mindless scripts into your tender back.

“I will die as one.”

He hums in confirmation.

–

A riddle he couldn’t quite solve to bypass the sphinx who guards the sanctuary of your mind. Humans are greedy creatures of conquest, always wanting more, always hungry for more. That’s why creatures like him exist and thrive, feeding into the natural greed of humans.

Every human wants more power, more money, more wisdom. Every human wants more and more and more. Every human, so why can’t you want more? It seems that the breeze who gallivanted into his office, proposing to him with a contract, won’t reveal her secret.

As it was outlined on the paper signed by two names, he shall honor your wishes for now until the end, such is the character of a husband.

Alhaitham runs his hand under the kitchen sink, shameless eyes watching as the water turns clear again, and as the skin closes up. A feature only a creature born outside the jurisdiction of god would have.

He finishes the meal with a few sprinkles of freshly cut herbs, serving the untainted sauce over juicy cuts of steak, one cooked medium and one cooked rare. He calls you over to the dinner table.

The average human life span has increased drastically in the past centuries, it’s now about eighty years give or take.

Still a mere fraction of the time held by vampires.

Eighty years, and yet you could only have a fraction of that. You could only offer him a sliver of a fraction.

–

“It’s been a while since you’ve fed, aren’t you hungry?” Your eyes peered over at him.

Alhaitham wipes the washcloth along your back from beside the porcelain tub, steamy water carrying the fragrance of Nilotpala Lotuses. The humidity of the bathroom made the shirt cling to his skin like a wet rag, but the moisture helped with your coughs.

“I’m satisfied.” Another half-truth, teal eyes scan for any signs of discomfort, he can bare it.

“Really? I’m sure my blood doesn’t taste like leaves anymore.” You rested your cheek again on the warm washcloth, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights as you looked into his.

The gift by Tighnari sitting untouched in the corner of a cabinet. Perhaps you’ve gotten tired of the bitter herbal taste, or maybe because there wasn’t a point in drinking it anymore.

Alhaitham fought the urge to click his tongue at your brash humor, only you would worry about how you taste during the closing days of a contract. However, his lips couldn’t form a frown when you beamed at him like that.

–

On the path to work, beryl eyes landed upon a bouquet arranged with familiar flowers, the petals dyed by the rich hues of dusk. The florist was busy gathering up the displays to bring them back inside for the night.

“Excuse me, I’d like to purchase this bouquet.”

That night at the office, the staffed vampires crinkled their noses at the overwhelmingly floral scent that plagued the floor. Alhaitham just shut his office door, bouquet resting in a hastily prepared vase, such a thing won’t kill a vampire it’s such a minuscule issue.

“I’m home.” He locks the door after him.

Keen hearing not picking up the pattering of feet along the hardwood floor. Placing the flowers on the entranceway table along with his dress shoes, the ashen-haired immortal trekked through the halls, silence ringing in his ears.

Behind the solid bedroom lay his answer, turning the knob, Alhaitham feels tense muscles loosen as the steady melody of breaths resounded through the room.

You’ve been here since this afternoon, body now imprinted into the plush mattress. Still, your blood still runs and your chest still rises, even if there were faint hints of wheezing it was good enough. Quiet as a shadow, Alhaitham removes his blazer and tie before joining you under the sheets. He’s been craving sleep.

A timeless body doesn’t need sleep, ageless cells don’t require such downtime to recover. However, claiming that vampires don’t enjoy sleep would be a blatant lie. A calm way to pass the endless time offered by eternity, a nice way to escape boredom.

Or maybe it’s because sleep gives immortal creatures a taste of an experience they’ll never have. Peaceful expiry.

Teal eyes observe the ever-present curl of your lips before cool lips are pressed against your plush ones. A habit formed after six years. The flowers were still left at the door, but they’ll survive the night. Alhaitham will show them to you in the morning, and you’ll beam that grin at him in the morning.

–

Fresh flowers rested in a vase gifted by friends on the nightstand, the last flowers of Spring. The delicate blooms give way to the vibrant greens of Summer. Such a cruel season for vampires, with days so long and nights so short. A cruel season that offered your body no additional warmth.

Alhaitham’s hand brushes against the apples of your cheeks, your unconscious body protests in an instant with shivers and curls away from the thief stealing what precious heat you had. As if burned by fire, the vampire retracts his hand.

Right, he can’t be greedy. Teal eyes watch every tremor until his legs finally remembered how to walk. Pacing to the closet Alhaitham pulls the Winter covers out from storage, insulating your body with the thick duvet.

The layers form a barrier protecting you from icy touches as he smooths out the wrinkles.

When humans walk into a garden, their eyes are immediately drawn toward the most beautiful blooms. Watching intently at how the petals of the young blossom unravel, their senses enjoying the heavenly fragrance. It’d only be a matter of seconds before their inevitable greed takes over, and they wish to claim the flower as their own.

In this sense, the gods are no different than the mortals who were crafted in their image. Greedy to pluck the most beautiful blooms from the garden for their mere amusement.

Is that what went on behind the garden wall those born outside the jurisdiction of god couldn’t peer over? Alhaitham wonders if you’d answer this inquiry of his. However, if he wants answers, he’ll have to ask soon.

How should he say the last lines of this script?

Alhaitham ponders. There wasn’t a director to give a cue, no parenthetical to follow. Perhaps he’s entertaining such futile thoughts to distract himself.

With each wheeze of your chest, the itch in his palm grew unbearable. His thumb begged to dig its nail into the smooth skin until scarlet droplets trickled out. However, it never got its chance for soon your ailing fingers occupied the space, interlocking to halt its motion as gold rings clinked together.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice babbling with a giggle.

Alhaitham’s cool skin hogged your warmth, trying to permanently sear the temperature into itself.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” You craned your neck away with a deep exhale, exposing the vulnerable skin to him.

There’s nothing viler to a vampire than stagnant blood. Blood that no longer runs tastes rotten, cold blood is worst than bile. Your blood still ran warm, he could sense it. This time it was his incisors that itched.

Keen eyes don’t miss the way your nape prickled at the breath that ghosted over it as his lips parted. Your lids gently shut, bracing yourself. The incisors brushed against your exposed jugular, but they couldn’t break through the delicate skin. They wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t.

Like the cowards they were, they retreated. Alhaitham closes his lips, deciding to press a tender kiss on the spot instead. His free hand guides your head back into a comfortable position on the plush pillow.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.” Your eyes were open again.

“I’m not holding myself back,” he spoke the truth, the whole truth.

You were born with blood, it’s only right that you die with it, Alhaitham concludes.

The ending clause of that contract be damned.

“What a silly vampire.” Your bell-like laughter twinkled in his ears.

Yes, he is. Even after all these centuries, Alhaitham realizes he’s still no better than a fool. A shameless fool. An idiotic hypocrite ready to stray away from the principles he thought he held firm. He’ll accept this verdict, he’ll continue this fool’s errand, if and only if you continue to giggle at his antics.

Outside the window came the dirge of Summer crickets, gentle crips accompanying your fleeting wheezes. Alhaitham shifts the thick comforter up your body, smoothing out the wrinkles as the soft warmth lulls you away.

Your still fingers in between the spaces of his, your head curled within the space between his nape.

Under the moon’s pure rays, lay two bodies atop soft sheets, curled towards each other, the fleeting warmth long dissipating. Atop silk sheets, one body envisions the two buried under cold dirt and not clean comforters with hands somehow still locked together. Deep under the garden wall.

Once the cruel sun creeps into the sky, and the night flees into hiding with her stars, Alhaitham will have to make a call.

He’ll have to speak with the receptionist on the other end, with their bright customer service greeting, and get a legal pronouncement of death. Then soon after that, he’ll have to arrange the transportation of your cold husk. He’ll have to lower you into the ground alone.

However, the morning is still hours away, the moon is still here to lend her quiet sympathies. So tonight, just for tonight humor his little daydream.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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just-another-author-i-guess · 1 year

Note

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit)

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?”

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic

Sometimes he won’t even ask ):

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in

And your blood is heavenly to him

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say

So take it like a champ lol

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard—

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick;

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you.

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.”

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.”

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?”

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands

His statement was true, though

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel

Awe, he’s so cute (,:

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so..

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

#marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #marshall lee hc #smut hcs #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #adventure time #help this is a kids show why am I writing smut about it

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voidzphere · 1 month

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☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!

[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killersanz (killer sans askblog) @killzbitezz (non-utmv blog) @utmv-callouts (utmv-calloutz) ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

╭───────────── * ˚ ✦

HII !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i luvv my prtnerz !! @mewobrute @sharkk-fin @glitchy-skull <3 (more stuff under the cut!!)

╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆

✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<

FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓

my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)

my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)

i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]

I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!

I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNERZ <333

some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !

i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3

some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !

some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !

✩ my tagz !

#killz art - my art !! :3

#killz rb - reblogz

#killz yapz - my yap sessionz

#killz answerz - answerz to my askz

#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz

#tag/ask game - self-explanatory

#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !

#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3

#killz srb - self reblogz

✩ dni

basic dni criteria

istz + phobez

epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.

pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)

irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)

minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework

slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu

mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)

unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2

anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)

HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)

✩ byi + boundariez

i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.

i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.

im not a roleplay account btw /srs

my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3

DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you

if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!

my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !

i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).

just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.

im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.

i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3

i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.

i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)

i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.

my blog, my rulez <3

★ last updated: 5/23/24

#killz yapz #every drawing in this was drawn by my finger #my finger is now numb #i'll update this anytime i can :]#killer sans #something new #utmv #sans au #undertale au #masterpost #artist intro #killz art #killz fingie doodlez

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shuadotcom · 7 months

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Room with a View (M)

🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook

🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”

🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp

🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🩸Words: 6.3k

🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references

🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube

🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”

This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️

“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.

It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.

That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour.

You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.

You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off.

His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.

The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.

“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.

To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.

They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.

When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”

“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”

“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”

“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.

“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.

“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”

“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.

“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room.

“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.

“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows.

All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.

“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”

“You just seem nervous is all.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”

“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.

“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.

“You do?”

“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”

You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless.

“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”

“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist.

Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.

As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.

Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.

As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection.

“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.

“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”

“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.

You refuse to admit it works on you too.

“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.”

A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.

“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.

“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it.

“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.

“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.

“Be careful, baby.”

“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.

“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”

“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right.

There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you.

“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.”

“So dirty, little mouse.”

“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.

His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.

Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close.

There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.

“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display.

He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.

Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.

From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.

Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.

“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass.

“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.

“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright.

Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.

“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”

“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.

Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?

With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin.

The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans.

When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth.

Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs.

Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.

A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.

“Did you just fucking bite me?!”

The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”

“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it.

Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.

He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.

Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.

He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.

“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,”

You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”

“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’

Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.”

The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you.

Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.

“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.

Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick.

His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out.

You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.

Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.

Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.

“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.

When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.

“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt.

“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”

“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.

“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”

This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.

“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.

“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

“Both of you.”

“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.

“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.

His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”

Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you.

You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him.

“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you.

Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside.

“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”

So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.

“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you.

You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed.

When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.

“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.

“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist.

You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.

Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.

A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses.

“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.

“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp.

“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”

“Guess so, Gyu,”

Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.

Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.

“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.

You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook.

You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.

The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you.

When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.

“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.

“Yes, please. Fuck me,”

“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.

Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back.

They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.

Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust.

“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.

“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.

You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.

At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are.

The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.

“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.

Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.

Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.

They’re drinking your fucking blood.

And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.

“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly.

Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.

You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.

“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.

“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.”

Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter.

“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?”

“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.

“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?”

The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings.

Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.

“Huh?”

“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”

You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.

“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”

“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”

“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.

When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.

“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.

Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.

Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number.

When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings.

You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.

A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.

Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉

You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound.

Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate?

So, you keep it short and sweet.

Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.

Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!

518 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 7 days

Note

Hi there!! I been reading your works and I love your writing. This my first request ever.

I had this idea, and I was thinking about a gothic vampire reader with the personality and the looks of Morticia Addams, and the love for the macabre. And Elijah catches her attention and she catches his attention. Of course, they meet at a gala, a opera etc. And for weeks, they have been getting to know each other. Until one day, he comes over to her house, they are having a good time then the visit turns steamy and smutty, it is passionate and feral. And maybe with blood sharing between the two.

But of course, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to and you can ignore this.

Decadence

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @thealienartist!! Absolutely obsessed with this idea, I LOVE gothic romance & horror!!! This was an absolute dream to write. Can Elijah please be the Gomez to my Morticia heart? ♡♡

5.9k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, blood drinking, I was self-projecting hard with this one... {I just want to be her}, black cats, chocolate cake, vintage wine, a love letter, Victorian gothic everything... I listened to Totentanz on repeat while writing this... {its a vibe}

Elijah had always enjoyed the arts, whether that be in music or literature or even painting and live performances. He found that the arts were one of the only things that made him feel truly alive. Even with his undead heart beating within his chest.

Around the turn of the century, Elijah discovered his love for horror. It amused him to see how humans depicted the supernatural, their interpretations of his kind were rather off. Vampires living in run down castles, with no regard for the world around them, their main purpose to drain the blood of the innocent. It was almost laughable, though some of his kind did enjoy that lifestyle.

It was during this time that he fell in love with opera, something his siblings didn't exactly agree with. Rebekah found it to be dull, Klaus found it to be pretentious and Kol didn't care either way.

They just didn't get it, the music, the drama, the costumes, had him completely enraptured.

So, when he heard that La bohème was being performed, he immediately made plans to go. He had seen it many times, but never got tired of the performance. He just wished that he could have somebody to go with, but none of his family wanted to attend.

He put on his favorite four piece suit, combed his hair, grabbed his black trench coat and made his way to the opera house.

As the lights dimmed and the stage lit up, Elijah couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing he had someone to share this interest with, but he was content watching alone.

He watched as the curtains parted and the actors began their first scene, he immediately fell into a trance as he took in the performance.

Intermission was announced and he went outside for some fresh air, he was surprised to see a woman, who looked like she was plucked straight out of the past, standing on the balcony.

She was smoking a cigarette, the long stick held elegantly in her fingers. Her nails were red talons and her dark hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips. She was dressed in a all black Victorian style dress, which complimented her pale skin, making it look almost ghostly.

She tilted her head at him in acknowledgement, then went back to staring out into the night.

Elijah usually wasn't the one to approach women, he preferred for them to make the first move. But something about this one intrigued him, he was curious about her.

He stepped onto the balcony and approached her slowly. Watching the wisps of smoke rise into the air.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Elijah Mikaelson, I presume?" Her voice was deep, but still feminine, her eyes darker than his own. She was strikingly beautiful, there was no doubt about that.

"You know who I am?" Elijah raised his eyebrows.

She chuckled, gracefully flicking her cigarette butt away.

"Who doesn't? The infamous Mikaelson's, who rule the streets of New Orleans with blood and fear... I'm a big fan," she said.

He smiled and shook his head, "We do not rule the city, we simply protect it from our enemies."

She hummed, a smirk gracing her ruby red lips.

"You do have a reputation," she replied.

Elijah nodded and stepped forward.

"What is your name, darling?"

She chuckled and leaned against the railing, gazing up at him with a smirk. "Y/n," she said, extending her hand out to him.

He grasped her hand gently, his lips brushing against her knuckles, her eyes sparkled as she watched his lips.

"Hmm, they don't make them like you anymore," she mused, her eyes traveling up and down his body. "You are so very old-fashioned," she added with a sly smile.

"Well I am quite old," he jested, matching her smile.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Elijah broke the silence. "What do you think of this performance?" He asked, gesturing towards the theater.

She shrugged, "I've seen worse, I've seen better," she replied.

Elijah found himself smirking at her response, not really knowing why. Maybe because he had found himself feeling the same.

"May I ask what brings you here?" He wondered why she was attending an opera alone.

"I was bored, looking for someone to eat," she stated. Her eyes roaming over his body once more.

Elijah let out a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair. There was only a handful of times in his long life that a woman actually made him nervous, this being one of those times.

She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, leaning closer towards him, her lips ghosting against his ear, her scent surrounded him, it was intoxicating and Elijah found himself leaning into her.

"I'll see you around Mr. Mikaelson," she whispered and gently pulled away from him, giving him a wink before going back inside. Elijah watched her go, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, not being able to wipe the smile off of his face.

You considered yourself a solitary creature. Even in your human life, you tended to keep people at a distance. You felt misunderstood, even a bit judged by your peers, you didn't really like being around people.

After you were turned, things hadn't really changed that much, you still found it difficult to connect with others, but now you were mostly untethered and unburdened by society's rules.

The freedom of being a vampire was nice, to be able to go and do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased and live however you saw fit.

You spent most of your years traveling, seeking out new places, experiencing new cultures and meeting people along the way. And with all this knowledge you learned exactly who you are and what you like.

New Orleans was one of your favorite places, full of vibrancy and life. It was an aesthetic heaven for you, a place that celebrated death, promoted the macabre, had strong connections to magic. Not to mention their appreciation for the arts.

For the last few decades, you had taken up residence in an old Victorian home. You compelled the local historical society to allow you to paint the exterior completely black. Planted dark red roses along the windows and hung little chandeliers made of animal bones along the porch.

You had spent quite a bit of time decorating the interior, making it a space that you could feel truly comfortable in. Something that made your home feel like it truly reflected your personality.

The house fit you perfectly; outside looking like something from a B-horror film, but the interior was homely and feminine, decorated with macabre pieces, gothic furniture, tapestries adorned the walls and candles were scattered everywhere.

You never really acclimated to modern society, you were turned in the 1800s and preferred to live according to the time. You liked old things, dark antiques, things that held a certain kind of energy within them.

So when you met Elijah Mikaelson at the opera house, you knew you had to add him to your collection.

You had heard about the Mikaelson family for a long time, whispers of them among the vampires. You had become intrigued, they were the oldest of your kind, the knowledge they possessed fascinated you.

You couldn't help the smirk that had stretched across your lips when you finally came face to face with Elijah, he was exactly how you imagined him. Tall, dark and handsome, dressed to perfection, emanating wealth and power. Finding him at the opera added to your attraction, knowing that his interests matched your own made it all that more charming.

Elijah Mikaelson was the fine wine of men and you wanted to bathe yourself in it. Wanted to drink up every drop of it, savoring the taste of it on your lips.

You sat in your living room, your cat on your lap, purring contently as you ran your fingers through his fur. You were dressed in a large silk robe, your hair tied up in a bun, dark wine colored lipstick on your lips. A mug filled with blood sat on the table beside you.

You were writing out a letter to him, with ink and parchment, your favorite fountain pen adding a certain flourish to your lettering. Your cat jumped off of your lap and you grabbed an envelope to place the letter inside. You folded the parchment and stuck it in the envelope, sealing it with wax and writing Elijah's name onto the paper.

You hoped he would like the gesture, you knew he was an old fashioned man, so sending him a letter with a gift was bound to catch his attention. It had been a long, long time since you felt nervous, and it had been at least a hundred years since you had a crush like this.

You grabbed the parcel with his gift in it and walked over to your front door, slipping on your heels, you headed out of the house and down your side walk, plucking a rose along the way.

The postman was close to leaving, just as you approached his mail van.

"Hello," you greeted, and watched as he turned and jumped, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

"Jesus lady, I didn't hear you coming," he stammered, looking you up and down, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you left."

He shook his head and smiled, waving away your concern.

"I have a parcel for you to deliver," you said.

He nodded and held out his hand for the letter.

"What's the address?" He asked, staring down at the envelope, taking note of your fine penmanship.

"The Abattoir, in the French Quarter. For Elijah Mikaelson," you told him, running your fingertips along the thorns of your rose.

The postman nodded his head and placed the letter in his van.

"Have a nice day," he said as he walked away.

You watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, a smirk playing on your lips, hoping your letter would get the attention you desired.

Elijah was spending the day lazing about, enjoying a rare day of peace and quiet, catching up on his reading. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but a knock sounded at the front door, which was a highly unusual occurrence.

He wandered downstairs, a nervous looking postman was waiting at the gate, looking around the old compound with fascination and hesitation.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" He asked timidly.

"Yes?" Elijah looked at him in bewilderment, it had been a long time since he had received anything in the mail, it wasn't like he had a registered address.

"This is for you," he said, handing him the envelope and a small package, wrapped in crimson coloured paper and tied with a black ribbon.

Elijah thanked him and made his way back into his home, he wondered who could have sent him a letter, the handwriting was immaculate, a skill that wasn't common in today's world.

He realized who it was from instantly when he saw the initials, y/n. A smile graced his lips, feeling like a giddy schoolboy instead of a thousand year old vampire.

He quickly undid the black ribbon and opened the paper, revealing a beautiful piece of art, depicting a flying demon eating a young woman's heart. The detail was incredibly fine, and he realized after a quick sniff, that the red of the painting was not paint. It was blood.

A thought crossed his mind, he wondered if it was a piece of your art, he found your work to be truly frightening, beautiful and enchanting, reminding him of the piece Nighthawks, though darker and macabre.

Opening the letter, he read it carefully,

Dearest Mr. Mikaelson, I hope this letter finds you well, if not please pardon my forwardness. I never understood the flirting etiquette of the modern woman. I find myself longing for the company of a man with your refined tastes, such a delicate palette. I was intrigued from the moment we met, our meeting felt fortuitous. I must confess that I have not felt this way in centuries, being in your presence awakened something within me that I wasn't aware still existed. I find myself completely enamored. Perhaps my feelings are returned? If not, then please accept this gift in hopes of extending our friendship. Though I do wish you share in my hopes of something a little more. I will be home tonight, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for a drink? Until then I remain Your Admirer, y/n.

Elijah couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he gently folded the parchment and placed it on his desk. He immediately went to check himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, combing it neatly to the side. He found himself anxiously changing his tie, nothing matched what he was wearing, but he wanted everything to be perfect.

He found a pair of ruby cufflinks, feeling that they complimented the letter and would perhaps set the mood.

Grabbing his black wool jacket and adjusting his tie, he made his way outside before stopping and running back inside, he couldn't possibly come empty handed and he knew just the thing to bring you.

You waited nervously inside your house, you had decided to wear a simple black slip dress, your hair flowing over your shoulders in waves, your black winged eyeliner perfectly defining your eyes.

You needed a way to quell your anxiety, so you decided to play a tune on your organ, something to fill the silence, create a soundtrack to go along with the nerves that bounced around inside your mind and heart.

If he didn't show, you would understand. It had been quite a while since you've expressed your affections to anyone. It had been a lifetime since you were courted.

Your fingers idly drifted over the ivory keys, producing a somber yet melodic tune. Your nails were filed into sharp talons, painted a deep crimson, matching the lipstick on your lips.

The melody flowed through the house, the tune reverberating against the walls, seeping through the floorboards. Your cat jumped up and settled in your lap, the soft vibrations from the organ lulling him into a purring trance.

A soft knock broke the melody and you felt your heart stutter. Placing your cat on the seat you walked over to your door. Taking a steadying breath, you grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Men usually didn't have you so utterly flustered, but with Elijah, it seemed like even your centuries old blood could grow warm.

"Good evening, I received your letter and gift, thank you."

He greeted you with a genuine smile, an excited glint in his eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in his appearance, he was dressed to perfection, like always, obviously following along with your old fashioned aesthetic. You liked that you didn't have to ask him, he just got it.

"Please, come in," you stepped to the side to make room for him, you shut the door as he walked inside.

"Quite a lovely home you have here," he said, admiring the interior of the house.

You took his coat and led him into the sitting room, pointing to one of the antique sofas.

"Please, take a seat."

He sat and placed the bottle of wine he had brought on the table.

You took the bottle and marveled at the label, your interest peaked, feeling slightly taken back, it was one of the rarest reds, bottles of this were difficult to come by, most of them now lying at the bottom of the sea.

You knew it was not a simple gesture, this was the kind of thing you save for very special occasions. Knowing that he considered this date that special made your stomach flutter.

"Now how did you manage to get your hands on this?" You asked, placing the bottle beside the two glasses you had set out earlier.

"My brother was the culprit behind a number of shipwrecks, during the golden era of piracy," Elijah responded, a smirk gracing his lips.

You chuckled as you grabbed the corkscrew. "That is no surprise," you replied as you popped the cork out.

You grabbed the glasses and walked over to him, passing him one of the glasses before sitting across from him.

You both raised your glasses and clinked them together, taking a drink, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

"I heard you playing as I approached the house, you have a lovely talent," Elijah said.

You smiled and nodded your head, looking down at your wine.

"That was very sweet of you to say," you looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his handsome features.

You took another sip and watched him over the rim of your glass, his eyes watching you as well.

"What were you playing? Totentanz?" He asked.

"Indeed, it’s one of my favorites," you said, tilting your glass in his direction, "and it felt appropriate," you jested.

A beautiful smile stretched across Elijah's face as he let out a chuckle. His smile made your lips curl up, mirroring his expression.

"So tell me," he began, "What made you decide to come to New Orleans?"

You shrugged and crossed your legs, the sliver of skin left exposed as the fabric cascaded over your thighs, capturing his attention.

"I love it here, the culture, the art, blood tastes sweeter here," you said, letting a sly smile grace your face. "I like the way this city weaves death and beauty," you paused and took a sip, "it just feels like home to me."

Elijah nodded his head in understanding, he appreciated what you had said. "Yes, there is a certain allure about this city,"

"Your family helped build it back in the 1800s, no?" You asked, running your finger along the lip of your glass.

He nodded, "yes we did, from swamps and brothels to one of the wealthiest cities."

You chuckled and shook your head, "yet the swamps and brothels remain," you mused.

"But not nearly as much," he joked.

You both sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other, laughing and drinking. Elijah was surprised to find that you didn't mind listening to him talk about his travels and life, in fact you hung onto his every word. To him, you were utterly enchanting, the way your eyes lit up as you talked, your laugh, the way you looked at him.

At one point he got up and sat closer to you, his hand gently grazing your thigh, leaning in close as you spoke, his eyes locked on yours. Your lips parted and you felt his breath ghosting across your mouth, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He was such a gentleman, waiting for you to initiate the kiss, but you wanted to do one last thing before you tasted his lips.

"I made something for us, if you would like to try it," you whispered.

He leaned back and tilted his head, his eyes curious.

You smirked and placed your wine glass down, slowly standing up.

"Follow me," you told him.

Elijah trailed after you into your dining room, a large wooden table in the center of the room, filled with silver platters and a centerpiece of black and white roses.

You had made a decadent chocolate cake using human blood, the dark rich blood mixing with the cocoa, making a sinfully dark and delicious dessert.

You pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit.

"This looks delicious, did you make this?" Elijah asked.

You nodded and cut a slice for him, placing it on a plate.

"Yes, I made it from scratch," you said, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Gathered all the ingredients from local suppliers."

Elijah hummed, taking his first bite, his eyes widened and he let out a soft groan.

"This is divine," he exclaimed, the veins around his eyes darkening.

You sat and watched him eat the entire slice, his eyes were blown out, the bloodlust apparent in his expression. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your excitement.

You pushed your plate towards him, a wicked grin on your lips. "Would you like another slice?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the bloodlust making him look feral, his eyes completely black.

"I would prefer to taste something else," he said.

Your lips curled into a smile as he stood, pushing his chair back and pulling you out of yours.

His arms snaked around your waist, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you flush against him. You ran your hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, your lips meeting his.

He tasted like red wine, chocolate and just a hint of blood, his mouth soft and pliant, his tongue brushing against your lips. You nipped at his bottom lip and he growled, pushing his hips against yours, walking you backwards, pinning you against the wall.

"Where did you come from?" He marveled, his hands grabbing your ass.

You laughed and ran your hand through his hair, giving it a light tug.

"Does it matter?" You whispered, pressing your lips against his again, kissing him hungrily.

"You've been in my city for so long, yet I only just met you, how very unfortunate," his voice was gruff as he spoke, his hips rolling against yours.

"I guess we will have to make up for lost time," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Elijah picked you up and flashed up the stairs, his hands cupping your ass, his lips attached to your neck. He walked you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed.

You laid there, propped up on your elbows, staring up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips, your dark hair fanning out on the pillow.

He looked at you in awe, your red lips were swollen from his kiss and the hem of your slip had risen up your thighs. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you, hovering over your body, his mouth finding yours again, his hands running up to the hem of your stockings, his fingers teasing the skin under the material.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him, straddling his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders, revealing your black corset, his hands trailing over the boning, the lace covering your breasts, the garters that held up your stockings, and the panties that were already ruined.

"I miss when women would dress this way," he sighed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a look of hunger in his eyes.

You chuckled, bending down to nip at his bottom lip, your lips moving along his jaw.

"Happy to keep the tradition alive," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck, your fangs running along the artery, feeling his pulse against the tip of your fangs.

Elijah flipped you over and pressed his body against yours, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides, his thumb tilting your head back. His other hand found the ties inn the front of your corset, slowly undoing the knots, the ribbon sliding through the eyelets, the corset loosening with each pull.

You watched his eyes flicker over your breasts, his fangs extending, his breathing heavy. He looked up and met your gaze, his face shifting, his veins spreading underneath his eyes.

He bent down, his fangs sinking into your chest, your blood filling his mouth, dripping down his chin. Your eyes rolled back as he fed from you, his hand squeezing your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

The pain of his fangs and the pleasure of his hands were overwhelming, you felt drunk, you felt euphoric.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, your mouth colliding with his, tasting yourself on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your core.

You both frantically began to undress, his pants and belt tossed aside, your dress and corset ripped off, thrown onto the floor. You laid back, wearing nothing but your stockings and panties, his boxer briefs the only piece of clothing left on his body.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, his lips finding yours, his hand running up your leg, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your panties, tearing them off.

"That was entirely ungentlemanly," you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

Elijah smirked, kissing his way down your stomach, stopping at your pelvis, his fangs lightly scraping the skin above your pussy.

"You don't seem to mind," he mused, his hand pushing your thighs open, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips bucked and your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it, urging him on. You appreciated his enthusiasm as he indulged in pleasuring you.

His tongue felt deliciously warm against your skin, your eyes shut, your breath ragged. It had been so long since you had a man between your legs, and Elijah was no ordinary lover, his skill level matched his age.

You moaned and writhed beneath him, his thumb pressed against your clit, your wetness covering his chin.

"Fucking hell," you panted, your body starting to tense.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your body a ball of pent up tension, with one final stroke of his tongue, your orgasm broke through the last sliver of control.

You shook and gasped as your climax took over, your whole body erupting in pleasure. Elijah lifted his head, watching you, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's a sight," he praised, sitting up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

You slowly opened your eyes, a blissful smile plastered on your face.

"Indeed it is," you replied, your breathing uneven.

"But you should watch your language, I thought you were a lady," he teased, his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

You narrowed your eyes and smirked, leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. Your bodies were slotted together, your faces close to each other.

"When have I ever claimed to be a lady?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, nipping the soft skin at the end of his neck.

Your hands trailed down his body, running over his chest, letting your nails run down his torso, breaking the skin, long bloody tracks appearing.

You kissed your way down his chest, licking the blood up, your fangs scraping against his abdomen. You looked up and caught his hungry gaze, his body tensing under you, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Smirking, you kissed the fabric that separated you from his cock, your hands reaching up and tugging at the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

Your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, licking the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut and he hissed in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mr. Mikaelson," you said as you slowly descended on his cock. "I may look like a lady," you popped off him and kissed the head. "but I fuck like a dirty, filthy whore."

Elijah groaned at your words, the hands in your hair tightening, gripping your strands, guiding you back down, taking in more of him.

You bobbed your head along his shaft, sucking and lapping at the vein along the underside, one of your hands pumping the part you couldn't fit in your mouth, the other gently cupping his balls, squeezing and massaging them.

Elijah slowly began to rock his hips, matching your rhythm, his breathing heavy and rapid, his voice hoarse as he murmured your name.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, you looked up at him, tilting your head, "yes?" You smirked, blowing air onto the tip.

Elijah pulled you up and kissed you, flipping you over and once again pinning you underneath him. He pulled your thigh up to hook around his waist, gripping your ass, letting his cock rub along your slit. He pulled on the hem of your stocking, letting it snap back against your skin.

"Gorgeous, intoxicating thing," he cooed, slowly sinking into you.

You threw your head back and let out a moan, your leg hiked up to allow him deeper access. He placed one hand under your thigh, holding your leg in place, while the other found your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The hand under your leg holding you firmly. You knew that a part of him wanted to give into the bloodlust, the animalistic side of him that was desperate to sink his fangs into your neck. His gentleness mixed with his aggressiveness drove you wild.

You felt every inch of his cock as he slowly rolled his hips, pulling out of you almost fully before entering you again. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing along yours. It was intense and overwhelming, the way he had all your senses tied up in his touch, his mouth, his taste, the sound of his breathing, his movements.

You struggled to hold it together, your pleasure building with each stroke, and he knew, he loved seeing you come undone.

He began to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. It was like the perfect dance, his hips moving so smoothly and perfectly in time with yours, both of you chasing the inevitable crash.

Your eyes met, and everything else seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in his gaze, everything slowing down. He kissed you softly, tenderly, making you melt in his hands.

You brought one hand down to rest on his cheek, holding his face against yours, kissing him back just as tenderly. You ran your index finger along his jaw line, your sharp nail drawing blood, dipping your finger between your lips. He tasted so much better than you imagined, like pure power and divine lust.

Elijah groaned at the sight of your blood stained lips and he sped up, his lips on your neck, his fangs running over your skin.

You tugged on his hair, urging him to bite you, to drink his fill, you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over completely.

His fangs sank into your neck, your blood spilling into his mouth, some of it dripping onto your chest, his teeth slicing into your skin.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, a strangled cry of his name leaving your lips.

He didn't stop, just as he was reaching his peak, he sank his teeth in deeper. He growled, his hips losing their rhythm as his climax hit him. You were both a gasping, moaning mess, clinging to one another, your fingers digging into each other's skin.

The two of you collapsed in a sweaty heap, tangled in the sheets, your skin glistening, breathing heavy.

You felt light headed and euphoric. His gaze was piercing and loving, his fingers brushing across your neck, softly wiping the blood off. His mouth gently caressed yours, his hands cupping your face.

He brushed your hair behind your ears, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers tracing your skin. It was hard to believe that you had only known him for a night, it felt like a lifetime.

A long overdue release of tension and you were happy to be the object of his affections. He was by far the most interesting man you had ever met.

You melted into him, his hands wrapping around you, holding you close. Everything felt perfect, the dim lights, the sound of rain in the background, the weight of him beside you.

The slow creak of your bedroom door opening, cut through the stillness of the night. The soft mew of your cat greeted the both of you, followed by the sound of him jumping onto your bed. The comforting feeling of his paws walking along the sheets as he came to investigate the disturbance in his home.

He walked along Elijah's body, bumping his head against Elijah's outstretched hand, purring happily.

"And who might you be?" Elijah asked.

"Erebus," you responded, stroking Erebus' fur. "It means darkness."

Elijah nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"An appropriate name," he mused, watching the black cat turn around on his chest, finding a comfortable spot to settle.

Erebus yawned and curled into a ball, closing his eyes.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Elijah, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I guess Erebus wants me to stay," He chuckled.

You laughed and reached over him, scratching the cat behind the ears.

"It does seem that way," you teased. "And I have no intention of kicking you out."

Elijah smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"Good," he said. "Because I intend on staying right here."

You looked up at him and smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had never met anyone who could make you feel so special and desirable.

Elijah's face was gentle, his eyes crinkled, his mouth curled into a smile. He kissed you again, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Erebus, who was now fast asleep on his chest.

"Did you know that Erebus fathered Eros, the god of love and desire?" He asked.

"I did," you chucked, watching your little cats chest rise and fall.

"There is a play house not far from here, they are putting on a performance about it, the play is called Sweet Eros. Would you like to go see it? It's quite twisted, it seems like something you would enjoy."

You nodded and kissed him, a grin on your face.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I think this is the start of something beautiful," you teased, your fingers tracing his collarbone.

"Oh my darling," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "It already is."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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gojoshooter · 7 months

Text

On halloween night with boyfriend Sukuna

a/n: i couldn't wait to post this!! enjoyyy <3

Sukuna waiting outside in the car tapping his shoes impatiently as you do the final touches for your halloween party look because the obvious — does he need to try? He's good to go with a bloody wifebeater and skinny jeans to show off his thick thighs.

You literally painted yourself a vampire with bullet in the head and he mumbles “cute” as you enter the car... fix your man?

Okay you did look kinda cute. He's pulling and kissing your plush blood-red lips and grazing his tongue along those fake little fangs. Cute cute cute he coos.

Your pointy black nails are slightly smaller than his real ones, he notes, and they go nowhere else than his big palm that clasp yours all the way to the party. Oh damn your little red dress with black lace all over, that made him trip on nothing with how intense his gaze runs down your height.

He actually puts makeup to not go overboard the intimidation bar. You had to convince your madman to not show up in his true form — he's handsome both ways for sure, but that's not normal to find the father of mf special grade curses goofing at a sorcerer's.

Bold of you to think that would stop his menace genes, cause once you leave his side, he's coming for your two bestfriends. If passive bullying Yuji in his human-earthworm costume who runs almost in tears to Gojo wasn't enough, he calling out Megumi for his (actually pretty) devine dogs mask. Though the most reaction he got out of your raven hair friend was a pissed frown when your boyfriend calls him a “fury brat”.

And as if one personification of headache was less, there comes Gojo Satoru, your former teacher in his highschool uniform with a fake 'Inverted Spear of Heaven' up his neck to save his favourite student. That's a pretty cool idea — you mentally compliment.

“Sukuna-san... I won't appreciate troubling my students in my own house, you know. I'm here though... if you want to take this outside.” Despite the little rivalry they've been up on, it amazes you how similar their challenging look of intimation is, just a little bit cute.

“Coming from your biggest L-taker costume I suppose, Gojo-san?” oh, burn. That's enough, you're on cue as soon as Megumi holds down Gojo from jumping your boyfriend.

“Knock it off, Suku” you warn him, tugging subtly at his tattooed arm. You're more mad at the fact his chuckle did something to your beating little heart. “Can't take you seriously in this cute ass makeup, babe.” Megumi sighs as he walks his sensei away. As much stinky Sukuna's affection seems, atleast he's off the hook thanks to you.

“Alright, show me what your tiny fangs do and maybe I'll stop” he's provoking you now, of course his thousand years d!ck loves to rile you up, you know that. And you're not backing down today.

“When we're home.” your pretty squinted eyes rival his smirk when you press a finger on his chest, and his tall frame over your smaller one. Did he just notice your dark red contacts? Fuck, if not already, he's aroused now.

“Feisty? now that's my type of halloween” he complies with his signature killer smirk.

p.s.: happy halloween >-<!! how can I not write about Suku ^^ been days since i posted lmfao put up with my not so creative ass😭😭 likes & rbs are appreciated babies<3

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @4sat0ruu @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @nanamikentoseyebags @tojisun @whodoesthatanymore

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seethesin · 7 months

Text

green eyed monster

pairing: Vampire!Hazel Callahan x F!Monster Hunter!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, supernatural/vampire au, jealous!reader, teasing, blood kink, biting, praising, fingerfucking, clitoral stimulation (18+, mdni)

a/n: sequel to vampires everywhere! enjoy 😌

Ever since you met Hazel in her mausoleum, you couldn't get enough of her. It was against your nature to let her roam free, but how were you supposed to dispatch her when she was mouthing your cunt like it was the only thing keeping her on this earth? You never experienced a fraction of the pleasure she provided before and selfishly, you allowed whatever this... situationship was to continue.

"You know, this place was not what I was expecting."

For a bar dedicated to monsters, you were anticipating something more… monstrous. Instead, The Last Drop looked and felt like any nightclub you’ve had the pleasure of attending. Vampires, werewolves, ghouls, and everything in between coexisted here peacefully. No one was sloppy and miraculously, no one started a fight. You deferred your inquisitive gaze to Hazel, wordlessly asking for her validation of your observation.

Instead, she was bobbing her head along to some unnaturally sounding house music, grin wide as she nodded over the bartender. There were no words, just a cacophony of noises and beats that pumped through the sound system.

It wasn’t your place to judge her music taste, no matter how bombastic.

“Oh it’s great in here,” she replied joyfully, starting a tab for the both of you. She was still nodding her head around and if your circumstances were different, it would have been endearing.

Ironically, you two were under the guise of a ‘couple.’ More specifically, a vampire and her willing feeder. The idea of it made you gag, but it seemed like the best way for you to get in without being swarmed.

Hazel's arm draped loosely over your back, hand sprawled on your barstool to cage you to her side. Her actions could be read as either possessive or protective—both serving as a reminder that you were now in the belly of the beast. You didn’t resist and instead, leaned in closer.

“What do you want to drink?” Hazel asks and you shift your attention back to her and the undead bartender already reaching for two cups. His skin was deathly pale and his veins were completely visible. There were gashes on his arms and a chunk of his skull was missing. The thought of his bodily fluids accidentally dripping into your cup made you shudder. You looked away quickly, more focused on picking around the skin of your nails.

“Surprise me.”

Hazel nods, looking back at the bartender.

“Okay, Randy. Give me a bloody mary and whiskey sour.” You scrunch your nose, elbowing Hazel gently in the side.

“Whiskey sour?” you parrot incredulously. She begins to giggle before pulling you in closer. Her hand grips your thigh; a warning to those around you both as to who you came with and who you will be leaving with.

It makes your clit throb.

“Because you’re such a sourpuss.” You roll your eyes and Hazel takes your reaction as a tiny victory. "Loosen up!"

But that was the thing. You couldn’t.

You still had a job to do, one that required the vampire’s assistance. You were here to collect a bounty for a renowned werewolf named Nimue. The payout was too great to ignore, even after splitting it in half with Hazel. Thankfully through the grapevine a la The Last Drop, Hazel had a contact that knew more.

That contact was in the form of her ex-girlfriend.

To specify further, Hazel's werewolf ex-girlfriend, Stella-Rebecca.

Apparently, she knew everything there was to know about your target: what she liked, how she spoke, the demeanor she held. Her expansive knowledge would be appreciated, especially when a few million dollars was on the line.

"What type do ya want?" Randy's gravelly voice cuts through your thoughts and you bring your gaze between him and Hazel. "Or do you just want it from her?"

He gestures to you and you stare at them both. Suddenly, the insinuation becomes clear and you jerk back in surprise.

"You take your bloody mary with actual blood?"

Hazel deadpans to you, brows quirked upward.

"How else would I take my bloody mary?"

Randy cackles, delighted at your naivety. He presses a glass cup into a fountain behind the counter, filling it partially with coagulated blood.

"No antigens for you, eh, Hazel?" She smirks, shrugging simply as he adds vodka, juices, and a few sauces and spices you can't make out into the glass. He connects it to a shaker, shaking roughly before pouring it out into a cup.

"I'll take what I can get."

It only takes a minute or two more for both of your drinks to be finished. You drink yours easily, but can't help your curiosity as you watch Hazel suck down the nasty combination. A whiskey sour was definitely the way to go.

Back to business. "Alright, what does Stella-Rebecca look like?"

Hazel gives a throaty hum, putting her cup down.

"She's a brunette: short, curvy, and—oh."

"What?"

"She's uh, she's already here."

"What?" Quickly, you scan the bar around you for a woman with any of the traits Hazel described. "Where?"

"Right there." Hazel's hand is on your hip, guiding you towards the right where the door is.

Stella-Rebecca was a smokeshow.

She walked with an air of confidence. Her head was held high, as her black heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She wore a form fitting, flattering emerald green dress with a black clutch wrapped around her wrist. Her full face of makeup was immaculate and Hazel needed to tug you back to keep you from gaping like a lunatic.

“She’s your ex?” you ask in a high pitched whisper, peeling more laughter from the vampire’s throat.

“Yes ma’am.”

“She’s—” Incredible. The silent compliment hangs on your tongue, but Hazel didn’t have to read your mind to know what you were thinking. It makes her smile as she watches Stella-Rebecca slide into the empty barstool next to her.

“Oh my gosh, Hazel! It’s been like, forever since I’ve seen you!”

She leans forward, snatching Hazel into a hug by her shoulders. The tight grip makes Hazel's eyes go wide and you can't help but smirk. For a split second, you wonder which of them would win a fight, one-on-one.

Stella-Rebecca lets her go and immediately, her attention is on you. You anticipated a dirty look or a roll of her eyes, but instead, she flashed you a bright, toothy smile. Your heartbeat stutters—no wonder why Hazel dated her. She's pretty and nice.

"And who is this adorable thing?" She simpers, tone genuinely sweet as she leans closer to get a better look at you.

You introduce yourself quickly, taking mental note of how unnaturally her brown eyes glowed in the dim lighting. She goes to shake your hand after introducing herself and you can feel her manicured, claw-like nails against your skin. Past instances with werewolves never lasted this long and that fact alone unnerved you.

Hazel's grinning at your exchange and you suddenly feel very anxious. Your hands weave together, thumbs bouncing off one another as Stella-Rebecca turns her attention back to the vampire.

"I like her, Haze."

Haze. Something about the familiarity of that pet name makes your stomach turn. Your blood thumps against your ears and you bite down on the inside of your lip.

"There's a lot to like," Hazel muses charmingly, causing the other girl to giggle as if Hazel was referring to her. Flush crawls up your neck to the tips of your ears. You didn't want to admit it, but you were jealous of their relationship. Even if they weren't dating anymore, they acted as if they were picking up from where they left off.

"I appreciate you came by on such short notice, Stella-Rebecca," You interject quickly, catching both girls off guard. Hazel quirks a brow at you, staring intently into your eyes. After a moment, a ghost of a smile tugs on her lips.

She knows.

Blunt fingernails dig into your hip, pulling you even closer. Hazel wears a devil-may-care smile as she turns back to Stella-Rebecca.

"What can you tell us about Nimue?"

Thank god for Stella-Rebecca.

Seriously.

Every question you and Hazel asked she answered completely and swiftly. You weren't sure if there was a personal vendetta between her and Nimue, but Stella-Rebecca did not hold back with each answer she gave. With the information you collected through a series of voice memos, you felt more confident than ever in your mission.

However, it seemed like you held back the entire interrogation. Your jaw was perpetually clenched every time Hazel and Stella-Rebecca laughed over an inside joke or reminisced on old memories. Your palms ached from the constant half-moons you dug into your skin. The way they looked at each other held so much history that it made you nauseous.

You didn't speak during the car ride back to your home, nor did you say anything to each other once you stepped inside. Luckily for Hazel, you had already invited her in previously. She was able to follow you in without leaking blood from every orifice of her body.

Your carpets get to live another day.

"Is there uh," Hazel starts, watching as you settle onto your sofa and scroll through the dozens of voice memos you recorded from earlier this evening. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Nope." Your lips purse at the end, popping audibly. "Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if she wants to talk."

Hazel approaches you slowly like one would a cornered animal. Her footsteps are light and you were convinced you saw her smile through your peripherical vision.

"You know I can read your mind, right?"

You don't respond.

"So that means I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking then, Hazel?" you finally snip, causing her grin to grow. You blink and she's already leaned forward, centimeters from your face. Her breath fans against your lips and reflexively, your tongue darts out to wet them.

She chuckles.

"You've been thinking about how much you want me," she purrs, her lids heavy as she stares at your mouth. She wasn't wrong and it makes you grit your teeth. Blush dusts your cheeks and you glare at her.

"Fuck you."

"We could if you'd stop being a sourpuss."

Your hands connect to Hazel's shoulders and you shove her down onto the sofa. You crawl on top of her, straddling her hips before leaning in to kiss her. Hazel's sneering into your kiss, swallowing your lips before flickering her tongue in between them.

The air around you turns ten degrees warmer around you and you paw at one another. Both of you shed your clothing, ripping layer upon layer from your bodies and discarding them on the floor.

Hazel is now sitting up, back pressed against the cushions as you remain mounted on her lap. Her mouth is between your breasts: kissing, biting, and sucking the delicate skin to the point of drawing blood. Her dexterous tongue laps it up eagerly, causing a string of moans to squeeze from your throat. Her dominant hand slips underneath the waistband of your underwear as her middle and ring fingers rub against your slit.

"Were you this wet all night?" she whispers against your chest and you don't respond.

Instead, you weave your fingers through her brown tresses. Once they're ingrained, you give her hair a firm tug, making her grunt. It's enough of an answer for her and she buries the digits easily into your cunt, humming in pleasure. You straighten, lifting your hips just enough to give Hazel more room.

"Good girl." Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise while another moan bubbles from your chest. "Can you continue being good for me tonight?"

You nod. Hell, she could have asked you to streak around your neighborhood in that husky voice and you would have nodded until your neck snapped.

As a reward, her fingers curl inside you, pressing against your fleshy walls and you whine. Your hips grind down further on Hazel's hand, greedily stealing as much friction as you can. Her other hand grips the fat of your ass, keeping you still while her lips meander up to your neck. A playful but stern bite comes soon after and you gasp, pushing your hips into hers. Hazel's fangs pierce your skin and her tongue washes over your skin to soothe the damage.

"Fuck, Hazel," you sputter, burying her face between your breasts as your knees begin to dig into her hips. You're so close. "Touch my clit too, baby."

Her laughter vibrates against your chest and she dutifully complies. You feel her thumb brushing against your clit as she continues to fuck you. The sensations begin to overwhelm you and involuntarily, your body starts to shudder.

"Like this, princess?" You don't trust your voice and instead nod, soon realizing that she couldn't see you doing so.

After a moment, you choke out a: "Feels so good."

"Then you'll love this." Her lips latch onto your nipple and your eyes roll back as soon as you feel her suck.

Hazel was right.

You cum with a shout, your body going rigid as you grip her hair for dear life. Her hand on your ass loosens so that you can wriggle your hips and ride out the remainder of your orgasm. Slowly, you find yourself coming back to reality. You hear Hazel's lips smack together as they pull away from your breast. A lazy, impish smile tugs at her lips as she stares up at you.

"Feeling better?"

You're still panting, eyes fluttering open as you hold onto Hazel's shoulders. Slowly, you lift your hips to allow Hazel to pull her hand back. Her slick-covered fingers are already in her mouth and unabashedly, you watch her suck them clean.

"Better," you agree, tilting Hazel's head up. She looks up at you and eagerly accepts the kiss you press on her lips. You last like that for a few moments longer before you break the kiss.

"You know," she starts and your brows arch expectantly. "If this is how you get when you're jealous—"

"Do not finish that sentence, Haze."

The both of you blink in surprise, not expecting the nickname to sound so natural coming out of your mouth. You can't stop yourself from blushing and Hazel cups your face, forcing you to look at her. She beams before peppering more kisses against your skin.

"You keep calling me that and I'll do anything you want."

"Anything?" Hazel nods curtly and your fingers wrap around her wrists. She watches you intently as you contemplate your next sentence. A wave of confidence washes over you suddenly and you look her right in the eyes.

"I want you to take me out after we find Nimue and collect her bounty."

Obviously, Hazel was not anticipating this request by the way her eyes widened. She recovers quickly, blinking away her shock before grinning dumbly.

"Like... on a date date?"

You can't help but giggle at the childish wonder in her voice.

"Yes, Haze, a real date."

She yanks you forward into an embrace and you realize now just how cold her bare body is. You shiver as her hands slide up your naked back, the steel of her rings searing your skin.

"I think I already have some ideas."

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