#astolfo x reader

Mordred is especially confused. She may not have been human in her past life, but that doesn't mean she'll turn down a tasty meal!

(Y/N) "You can just have my portion, Mordred-"

Her eyes twitch in annoyance as she lightly punches their shoulder.

(Mordred) "Oi! You calling me a pig?! Eat your damn food, what are you, five?!"

(Y/N) "...Mordred you're not even eating the vegetables on your-"

(Mordred) "This is about you, jackass!"

No food means no energy. No energy means no mana. And no mana, means death.

Mordred isn't just gonna let that slide. No Master of hers was gonna half-ass even eating!

(Mordred) "You know how good food is in this time versus mine?! Least you could do is chow down and finish the plate you've got!"

Her reaction is essentially the same, platonic or romantic.

Astolfo scoffs at the very notion that (Y/N) wasn't going to eat any more food today!

(Astolfo) "How can you let such a good meal go to waste?!"

(Y/N) "Astolfo, this is like the fifth beignet* we've eaten in the span of five minutes-"

*(French pastry)

(Astolfo) "Not my point, (Y/N)! You gotta keep up your energy, I don't wanna go home anytime soon because you're too tired!"

Astolfo wants (Y/N) to eat for both that reason, and because he's genuinely a little concerned at how little they eat in general.

That's not healthy for a human right?

Regardless, tasty food is only better when shared with friends!

In a romantic relationship, Astolfo gets significantly more pouty.

(Astolfo) "Lemme spoonfeed you already, I need help finishing this plate...!"

That was a boldfaced lie, but that wouldn't deter him the slightest, even if they did know it.

The high-pitched screech that bounced off the walls was a sound one would typically associate with tea at it's boiling point or maybe a hotpot screaming to be eaten. One thing that certainly would not have come to mind was a running faucet—specifically one that ran water so hot that it made even the durable metal cry out in pain.

The incessant shrieking, as annoying as it was, didn't faze the girl who sat before the sink. It was as if the noise was never there...which actually wouldn't be that far off from the truth.

In reality, she couldn't hear a thing aside from the same bloodcurdling screams.

Her hands worked as if they were trying to create a fire. They slide together at blinding speed, rubbing against one another so hard that a few more minutes of it would surely cause a tear in the skin of her palms.

Part of her wished that would actually happen.

A knock on the door sounds followed by the mellow hum of her friend's voice as he called from the other side, "Y/n. Are you still in there? It's me."

Heavy silence replaces her much needed answer, and if it weren't for the faint sound of running water, he would've been none the wiser in assuming she wasn't in there. Since that wasn't the case, however, he had no other choice but to try again.

"Y/n," He calls only for the same result. He then tries a third time, "Y/n!"

Silence. He sighs. Guess he has no other choice.

"Forgive the intrusion," With that gentle request serving as a small warning, he takes his time to twist the knob, giving her more than enough time to make herself presentable if need be as he swung the door open at a turtle's pace and peered inside.

As he suspected, she was standing at the sink, her back facing the door and preventing him from seeing what she was doing—not that he needed to. The steam, the running water, the uncomfortable sound of her hands sloshing together and sounding like two blades clashing...it all gave him an inkling of what was happening.

But how long has she been doing this for? He was almost to scared to ask. Almost.

"You've been in here for a while now," He said, and unlike his usual tone, his voice was dipped in uncharacteristic gentleness and sounded rather withheld. It was as if he was being held at swordpoint, and even then, it was surprising to hear him sound that way.

Maybe if she was paying attention she would've heard it and teased him about it. Possibly cracked a joke or two about him finally growing soft enough to warm up to her after all these years.

But instead he received silence and that scared him more than any enemy he's has faced in his lifetime.

"Hey," He called out again, but this time more sternly. He also didn't give her nearly as much time to answer. Not that she likely would.

"You can stop now. I doubt your hands are that dirty.." He's slow with his steps, closing the distance bit by bit, "Hell, by now, your hands are probably cleaner than mine."

She doesn't move, flinch, or do anything that would acknowledge that his words had reached her. It was as if she was in a trance, put under a spell of some kind or was a victim to some hypnotism caused by unknown means.

In a sense, what was happening right now was kinda like that.

In the matter of a minute or so, he's close enough to reach out for her delicate wrist. He does just that, but not too long after he snatches his hand away. He then paused, looking at his hand before looking back up at her with horrid shock gleaming off his hues.

This water was hot. Really hot. Hotter than any water boiled for food or tea.. He's surprised that the droplets don't just evaporate as soon as they leave the faucet.

"You don't feel that?" He leans in, getting closer to her face as his brows furrow, "Does that not hurt?"

He already knew the answer—of course it did—but the fact that she wouldn't answer him struck a nerve and in the end he finds himself grabbing her roughly by the wrist and snatching her away from that molten lava altogether.

He shuts off the water quickly after that, putting the annoying whistling it produced to an abrupt end. It seemed only then that the trance she was put under was broken and she was finally able to think and move for herself again.

As he lets go of her wrist, she finds herself opening her palms and staring down at them. She stares for a long while. Just opening and closing her palms repeatedly and rubbing her fingertips together, as if she was examining a foreign object.

The skin of her palms looked as if she had ran them across a rough surface for an hour; puffy with an angry hue of red to them.

They were a deep shade, just like... She clenches her teeth. He's quick to notice.

"If this is about the other day.." He began, his words dying in his throat as he watched as she flinched away at his very words.

He knew this would happen in the end. He tried to warn them all but nobody wanted to listen to reason. They sent this fragile glasswork into that cage of knives and sharp fangs without a care in the world and left him with the job of mending anything that was broken back together.

It truly irked him. More than something like this usually would.

"If... If you were in my shoes yesterday.." She began slowly and quietly, and despite her voice sounding like a mouse's squeak and a part of his blood boiling at the sound of it, he bit his tongue and held back his snapping comment.

Right now was not the time to be reckless. Too hard of a hit—or any pressure at all really—would cause his dear friend to shatter into a million pieces and he can't have that. How would he be able to fix her up in that condition?

"If you were me last night, if... If you had your weapon to that person's throat. ...If they begged you through their sobs and reduced to a blubbering mess...going on and on about how they needed to live.." She pauses, whether that was because she noticed how her voice grew more and more unsteady with every word she spoke or the fact that her hands had begun to tremble was unknown to even her. It seemed that at this point she was unsure of, well, everything.

And at that point, her friend saw no better of a time than to take a risk and speak his mind.

"If you plan to continue on to ask me if I would've still killed them than let me spare us both the time; I would in a heartbeat."

She laughs at him, her giggle sounding like a sick bird trying to sing. It should be comforting to here despite it's raspiness. After all, despite it not sounding exactly like her usual laughter, it's a miracle she's able to laugh at all. He should be sighing out of relief that she still seems to be gripping onto her sanity enough to find humor in such a dank situation.

But he couldn't, and all because of the simple fact that he had grown used to her sounding so full of life. It was truly a pity.

"I suppose that was a silly question of me to ask you of all people."

In all this time, he's noticed she hasn't looked up from her hands once. It was unnerving to see her like this, but there was nothing he could truly do about it. He could direct her attention elsewhere, sure, but that wouldn't stop the swarming of her thoughts or reduce her heightened awareness of what was once staining her hands and forearms. And, it surely wouldn't halt the constant loop of that incident from playing in her mind—that moment of her taking a life with her own hands, in a quite grotesque way at that.

Her mind was stained just like her skin and just like how she couldn't truly rid herself of the grimy feeling of blood sticking to her skin no matter how hard she scrubbed, he couldn't wipe her mind of what happened. They were both truly powerless.

But he had to do something. Now that they've gotten her foot out of the door, she has to walk through it. There's no backing out of this, she knew this when she went on that mission yesterday. There was no way but forward. He knew that better than anyone.

"Nevermind what happened, come on," He slides his hand up her arm, over her shoulder, and dips down to the upper part of her back where he gently pushes her in the direction of the door, all as he tells her, "You should get off your feet and actually rest. You'll need it for tomorrow.."

For the first time that night, she glances up at him. It was for a mere moment, but that quick second was all he needed. Her eyes..were like a starless sky; completely devoid of it's usually glimmer of life. It was as if he was staring at a solider who's spent the last decade at war.

Truly astounding how such a look was formed just after a single night.

Wordlessly, she allows him to push her in the direction of the door as if she weighed nothing. She walked slowly, and as she did she looked back down at her clean, reddened hands. Her eyes sinking even more as she does.

She finds herself wondering if the blood she felt would ever go away—if it were possible that her palms would be capable of ever being truly clean again—and that led her to softly murmur to the only one she could think of turning to; her companion and partner in crime, him.

"Does it.. Does this ever get better?" She asks to which she receives probably the heaviest sigh she's ever heard in her life. It tells her all she needs to know but does little to quell the turmoil in her heart. It has her questioning if she'll be able to handle the path forward. If she'll reach the end or go insane halfway through.

Whatever happens, she finds herself praying that she'll be able to walk this path hand in hand with someone who's treaded this gravel before.

..And it so happens that a person like that is leading her to her bedroom right now. How convenient.

Astolfo loves to spoil you. They’re so excited to be in a relationship with you and the more time they can spend with you the better! This for sure goes in the bedroom as well; they love physical affection and sex is one of their favorite things to do. Some of this stems from the fact they worry they might not be good enough for you. It doesn’t happen often but if you notice they’re acting a little more aloof, more snuggles go a long way.

Astolfo has very few hard no’s when it comes to sex. They want to please you and are down for most things that you propose. They always want to make you feel good and let you relax after a long day. They won’t be too into hurting you or causing pain but love to edge you. You’re surprised the first time you mention it and their face lights up. Astolfo pays very good attention when they want to.

They have a bit of a sixth sense when it comes to you being horny. You can be doing your own thing all day, going from meeting to meeting and then Astolfo will just appear and drag you into a closet to get you off. You didn’t think you were craving anything right then and there but were quickly proven wrong. If you want things to be more hush hush, you’ll have to tell them explicitly.

Tilting your head to the side. Giving him nothing but a playful smile on your lips when Astolfo trembled above you. His legs caging you under him in a cute display of what little say he actually had in this outcome. Demands being made of you that only brought a bigger smile to your face.

“More of my blood?” You remained motionless under the chasseur even when he dropped down closer to you. Hands on either side of your face as a wall of pink hair came on either side of you. But all you could see was the beautiful desperation in his human eyes, “Careful now little lamb, we wouldn’t want you getting addicted to a lowly vampire after all.”

Twisting his fists in the blankets under your head. The moral fight waging itself within the chasseur’s mind was so wonderfully on display. Unable to keep from smiling when he snapped at you after making such a demand.

“Silence!” Astolfo feigned every ounce of dominance he had over you. Squeezing your hips tighter between his legs and even bringing his face lower to yours like that would intimidate you, “Foul beast I-” Words caught in his throat it seemed Astolfo had used up with moxy he’d accumulated to just come into your room so brazenly. Crumpling on top of you the chasseur’s let out an ugly loud choking sob into the crook of your neck, “Please- Please give that to me again vampire- I- I’ve never felt that way before I just- I want it again-”

Such desire. Such truth to his words. You hadn’t heard them in so long. Making such a pitifully perfect plea for you of all things.

“If you keep it up,” Your voice tickling the nape of his neck even as your lips brushed just his ear, “It will not end. You will forsake such a thing like the church for a vampire. Taste of me more...and you’ll surely die little lamb.”

The surprise shake to his head. Astolfo’s head shaking gaining in ferocity. Until he was hovering back above you with tears streaming down his cheeks with arms on either side of your head, “I don’t care- Please- You wretched vile thing I just- I want it-”

Hushing him gently. You reached up to cradle his face in your palms. Astolfo quickly pressing his tear stained cheek into your touch. Snot beginning to dribble from his nose even as he sniffled above you. Giving you the weight of most of his body the second you touched him. Lucky that you weren’t going to drop him as he cried above you.

“Poor little lamb...” You took him into your embrace. Bringing his face back to your neck. Feeling the sliminess of his snot and tears stain your nightgown’s collar as well as your neck. The chasseur’s body trembling above you like that of an addict looking for it’s next fix. Withdrawing from something that only a day ago he’d forsake with every fiber of his being. However desperate the situation was you couldn’t help the smile creeping up on your lips when you pressed a kiss to the side of his head and inhaled his ever so intoxicating aroma, “Listen, and listen well my little lamb...I will let you have as much as you want, but on one condition.”

For the first time since entering you room at such an ungodly hour his eyes seemed to focus on you if even for the moment. Astolfo staring down at you with a lust that transcended just a need for flesh and yet he couldn’t explain any of how he felt.

“...you will give yourself to me, above all else.” You stopped him before he could rebuke that. Finger to his lips and his face deepening to a scowl but you carried on in a low hushed whisper, “You taste too good for me to watch my manners. Either give all of yourself to me, and I return the favor to you, or you must leave at once little chasseur. Do you understand?”

As fevered as his actions had been when he came in. Now for the first time Astolfo gained some of his senses to truly understand what you meant. Give himself to a vampire, of all things, as a man of the church it was worthy of death. But then the clinch of the rosary beads above your heads caught his attention. Staring at them in the glimmer of light in the room. As they swayed and rattled across the wood of the headboard. He was a chasseur yes. But then he couldn’t deny all that the church had taken from him either. And within that laid his answer.

“Yes.” Astolfo mumbled, “Yes I- I understand.”

“I will drink of no blood but yours little lamb. Know this.”

“Drink of me.” Astolfo grabbed both sides of your face. Pulling you to him as he leaned down in unison. Hardly a couple of inches from your face with that wild look in his eyes taking over once again, “Never drink of anyone outside me. I forbid it. I- I’ll- I’ll kill you if you so much as ever taste another’s blood. You wretched, disgusting, foul-”

“Shhh now,” You quieted his rambling that was escalating quickly to tears again. While he still held your face you only smiled and took his delicate face into your own grasp, “I will drink only of you, Astolfo Granatum, you have my word.”

A tenseness washed over him and he could be felt gripping your face inadvertently tighter, “How- How do I know you mean it? A vampire like you could just lie and get your way.”

True. But you weren’t lying. Not now at least.

Leaning into him you didn’t sink your teeth into his neck as he expected. Instead Astolfo’s eyes widened when what you went for were his lips. Kissing him passionately with his face in your palms. Holding him still until he finally leaned into the kiss as well as the taste of blood. Unsure if it was his own or yours. Astolfo didn’t hold in the moan very well bubbling up in his chest as his tongue wrestled with yours in the blood twanged mixture of saliva between the heated kiss. 

Pulling away revealed the blood came from a split in your lips. One you’d caused yourself by sinking your own fangs into your lip. Astolfo couldn’t help but stare fixated on the crimson drip on your lips. Licking his own for any remnants of spit and blood on his lips from the kiss.

Lips parted slightly he saw only the red of your blood but heard your words so clear, “Because I will give you my blood little lamb. I’ll share with you the closest thing to me. Bits and pieces of me I hope you eat up every day until one of us dies.”

No thought to it. Astolfo lurked forward. Not only to smash his lips onto yours. But drag his tongue along your split bottom lip. Hungry for more of you. Fueled by nothing but that desire for more of you to pass his lips. Spit, blood, both, he did not care. Only driven to consume you in ways he wished to be consumed himself.

Rocking his hips on your lap. Slowly picking up pace as he did so. You in your thin white nightgown. The chasseur in his undergarments. No arrangement that a decent human or vampire should find themselves in. But as your blood seeped into the kiss and he desired more. The clothes would soon become an issue. 

Having his turn to satiate a need as such. Soon it was your turn. 

Hand behind his head. Dragging a kiss drunk Astolfo to you once more. Bodies shifting from their orginal spots to a much more comfortable dynamic. The chasseur between your legs. Gown riding up your thighs in the dim room. Pressed more and more into yourself as you forced Astolfo down to your level. His face to be buried in your neck. All while you swept aside his pink hair.

Like you could see his veins pulsating under his skin. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone, human or vampire, in well over a hundred years. Arousing a thirst in you that you’d forgotten about ages ago.

Jaw unhinged. As wide as you could manage in fact. Astolfo’s meager moan was stifled when the human bit down lightly on your own neck. Nothing in comparison though when you sunk your teeth into him. Gush of blood igniting your senses. He tasted like nothing you’d ever had before. Leading you to grab onto him even tighter. Astolfo’s body willing and leaning more into you. The press of his hips into yours. Creak of the bed as you both moved. His discarded rosary beads tapping against the bed post as you fed on the church man himself.

Just like before, when both your senses went swimming in the most lovely way. Astolfo dazed and succumbing to the feeling of your saliva more potent than any drug known to human. And you ravaging his neck as his blood drooled into your maw and you devoured him like a fine meal. Such chemistry working wonders on your bodies. Soon enough it was evident enough even in your blood gorging to feel his clothed cock press against your hardly clothed core. 

Even in his daze Astolfo was rutting his hips into you. Mindlessly in fact as he was absorbed in letting you feast on him. His labored breathing in your ear with his weight baring down on you. All while his cock strained against his nightwear and he kept pressing it harder against your in an attempt to alleviate his flush body. 

“...would you like more of me, little lamb?” Blood covered lips mumbling into the wound on his neck. Slowly you were pulling up your gown until he was rubbing against your silken panties and that was all, “I’ll give you more of me if you ask.”

First a nod. Then a desperate amount of nodding as Astolfo couldn’t find his words, “Please- Make me feel- So much better-”

Kissing the bite marks on his neck. Just to dip your tongue in the intoxicating taste of his blood once more. You had little room to move with the way your bodies were smashed together. Unsure of the last time you took a lover. And if this chasseur in question ever had a lover. You continued to suck and feed off his neck as you pulled your own panties aside and helped him pull his drawers down. Before you knew it though Astolfo was rubbing his cock against your slit. 

Soaked from the affects of his blood. Feeding on the perfect match truly the best aphrodisiac any human or vampire could ask for. 

With his blood in your system. And your magic as well as the lingering taste of the bloodied kiss in him. Astolfo throbbed against your cunt. Moaning into your neck and pushing into you more. Weighted down by his frame on you but too out of it to make an assured temp. You honestly no better but with help the two of you were able to find the mark.

Sinking down to the hilt in you. Warm, wet gummy walls twitching around his cock. Astolfo groaned without care for who heard. Unable to comprehend the magical feeling taking him over. Your legs curling around his hips. Clutching him tight to you as you continued to lick up the blood seeping out of his wound. It didn’t take long to find the human moving his hips in such a natural way.

“F-Fuck-” Astolfo dug his fingertips into your shoulders as he held onto you. You weren’t about to go anywhere though with all of him on top of you like this. Pushing his cock as deep into you as he could. Simply giving your cervix the lightest kiss. Before pulling back and doing all over again. His body taking over in a haze. Astolfo’s hips only moving with more frantic nature the closer he got to an orgasm.

“Don’t stop-” You demanded breathlessly under him. Hearing you in fact surprised the chasseur and he opened his eyes to see you staving off your own pleasure in the moments following, “Don’t- Don’t you stop- Fuck- Haven’t- Haven’t in so long-”

No idea what you were babbling about. Astolfo got a crash course what you meant with his thrusts were faltered by your shuddering body.

With his blood on your lips. Gasping with a full body tremble stealing your voice away. Only pleading moans along with his name spilling past your bloodied lips. He felt as much as he saw. Your walls clamping down on him making it hard to keep his rhythm. But god how it felt so much better with whatever you were doing. Little knowledge that you were cumming on him and no time to think about it either as Astolfo felt his stomach tighten and his muscles cramp. 

Overcome with euphoria. Forehead dewy and damp pressed to your own. The chasseur couldn’t stop the lewd snapping of his hips when his orgasm over took him. Driving himself as deep into you as possible. Cock twitching inside your walls just to coat them with gooey cum. Thick seed violating your deepest parts as the chasseur loomed over you hardly able to keep himself propped up on his elbows in the throws of such pleasure. 

Come down only from the high of an orgasm. Still floating so effortlessly from the way your feeding made the both of you feel. Astolfo collapsed on top of you. Cock still buried inside you but growing softer by the minute. And the sweet tempting taste of his dried blood on his neck where you bit him. Making you clench around him to be so close to the taste of him. Astolfo moaning above you but utterly too weak to do anything. You finally couldn’t help it.

Flinging him off of you. To replace yourself on top of him. Face going right to his neck. Kitten licks as you cleaned up the blood that seeped out. But did not drink more from him. The tired chasseur trying to catch his breath under you. Only enough energy to raise his hand to gently cup the back of your head as you licked him clean of blood.