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mxnsterbabe · 3 days

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Nonbinary Celestial/Nonbinary Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,408 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You’ve spent your entire life staring at the stars; until one day, one of them falls to earth and you realise they aren’t stars at all.

The old astronomy building, a relic passed down from your father, stood solitary against the night. There you were, enveloped in darkness save for the dome of starlight that stretched above. Through the telescope, the heavens were a canvas.

Orion, with his belt of three aligned stars, seemed to watch over you, a guardian of the sky. You traced the outline of Cassiopeia, the boastful queen sitting on her celestial throne, and beyond her, the great bear Ursa Major loomed large and comforting.

As you methodically charted and sketched the heavens, a sudden flash tore through the the night. A shooting star blazed across the field of your telescope. It was a sight to quicken the pulse, to remind you why you loved these silent, solitary nights.

Instead of fading into the darkness like you expected, this star seemed to grow brighter, larger. Your heart raced as you tracked its descent, the telescope lens barely containing its fury. It didn't vanish but instead seemed to explode in a cacophony of light on the opposite side of town. The burst was brilliant, then gone, leaving an afterimage dancing in your vision and a burning curiosity in its wake.

This was no mere meteorite; you were sure of it. Something extraordinary had just touched down on Earth, and every instinct you had clamoured for you to find out what it was.

Despite a nagging intuition at the back of your skulll, curiosity propelled you forward. You grabbed your bag and coat in a flurry, the cold metal of the telescope still lingering on your fingertips as you rushed out of the building.

The idea of messaging your dad flitted through your mind—he would certainly want to witness this anomaly—but the urgency of the moment overrode the thought. Fingers trembling with adrenaline, you couldn't bring yourself to pause, to type out the words that would delay your discovery even by mere seconds.

You rushed to your car, the engine coming to life with a reassuring roar that cut through the silence of the night. The roads were empty, the world around you asleep. Streetlights blurred past as you drove, guided by the lingering afterimage of the fallen star's brilliance.

Finally, you arrived at a stretch of open field, the vast expanse of grass. You expected a scene of impact, a crater, some mark of the star's violent descent—but the field lay serene and undisturbed under the moon's watchful eye.

Confusion clouded your thoughts. Had you miscalculated the location? Could it have been a trick of the light, a figment of your imagination fuelled by a wishful fascination with the stars? Yet the vividness of the event, the certainty with which you had followed the celestial body's path, left little room for doubt.

You paused, the stillness of the field feeling suddenly charged, electric. A glow in the distance beckoned—an ethereal light that pulsed gently, like a heartbeat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a cautious step forward, then another, drawn to the light.

As you approached, the source of the glow materialized into a form, unmistakably a person, or something like one. They stood motionless, bathed in a silvery-blue luminescence. Their nudity was obscured by the shifting, shimmering light that cloaked their form.

Their face turned towards you, revealing features both strange and mesmerising—enormous eyes that glittered like stars, a face elongated and ethereal, devoid of any malice, only calm curiosity.

For a fleeting moment, the word alien flashed through your mind, sparking a primal surge of panic.

As your heart pounded in your chest, ready to flee, the creature—no, the person—before you remained still, their gaze locked with yours. There was no aggression in their posture, no intent to harm.

Your fear ebbed, replaced by a profound sense of wonder. This was no star.

Compelled by a magnetic pull, you found yourself closing the distance. As you moved within an arm's reach, the glow from their skin illuminated the space between you. It was a radiance that bordered on overwhelming, so bright it filled your vision completely.

In the near-blinding light, you discerned the figure's form—undeniably humanoid but slender to the point of fragility, limbs delicate and willowy.

Their eyes held you captive, large and luminous, unblinking. It was as if galaxies swirled within them.

Overcome by curiosity and something else, something you couldn’t name, you raised your hand tentatively and touched theirs. The skin was unexpectedly hot, smooth and firm.

Your breath caught in your throat as the warmth spread from their hand to yours, leaving your skin tingling.

“What are you?” you asked softly.

They didn’t respond, simply threading their long fingers through yours.

Time seemed to stretch and warp around you, the field shrinking to the small patch of earth where you and the being stood. Your eyes remained locked onto theirs, and it felt as if you were peering into the very fabric of the universe.

The being leaned forward, their forehead meeting yours with what you could only describe as tenderness. The contact had warmth blooming in you, and your eyes slipped closed.

There were no words spoken, none that you could hear with your ears, at least. With your foreheads pressed together, you felt the being's curiosity, their joy of discovery, and the simple pleasure of their existence. They were here simply to experience, to explore one of hundreds of planets they had visited before.

Then, they said their name. Not with words, you had the impression they couldn’t speak in a way that you’d understand. Rather, you felt a flicker of joy, felt the glow of sunshine on your skin and smelled crisp, fresh grass.

As they stepped away you felt a sudden lightness, head spinning. Your balance faltered, a dizzy spell from the overwhelming encounter. Before you could stumble, their firm grip steadied you, their slender arms surprisingly strong, holding you upright.

They smiled then, and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

"Thank you," you murmured, steadying your breath.

They gave a small, understanding nod, their eyes reflecting the pale light of the moon.

"I wish I could understand your language, your real name," you said, your voice tinged with regret.

In response, they knelt gracefully on the cool grass. Their fingers, elongated and delicate, danced across the earth, tracing letters in the dirt with careful, purposeful strokes.

Nysa.

They looked up at you, their eyes shining.

"Nysa," you repeated, trying the name, feeling its shape and sound on your tongue.

Nysa's smile broadened, and they nodded once more.

As Nysa rose to their full height, a decision formed within you, swift and impulsive. Before doubt could grip you, you stepped forward and kissed Nysa.

Nysa's skin, hot to the touch like sun-warmed stone, seemed to thrum with an energy that coursed through you, igniting every nerve ending. You felt the delicate structure of their lips, the smoothness of them, small teeth scraping across your bottom lip.

Oh, it was perfect.

As you pulled away, the world around you narrowed until there was only Nysa.

A sharp sound broke the spell, a reminder of the world beyond the field. Nysa's frown, a slight crease in their brow, was the first sign of concern. They turned back to you, their gaze searching yours, as if ensuring you were unharmed.

It was then that the lightheadedness hit you, a gentle but insistent pull away from consciousness. As the edges of your vision began to blur, Nysa reached out, their forehead touching yours. It was the last sensation you felt before succumbing to the darkness.

***

You awoke to the familiar confines of your room, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to piece together the memories of the previous night. How did you get back home?

Sitting up, you surveyed the room, everything in its usual place. Undisturbed. Your jacket and shoes were neatly positioned by the door, your bag slung over the back of the desk chair.

You needed to check the rest of the house. Make sure last night had all been real.

Yet, as you attempted to stand, a wave of lightheadedness washed over you. You fell back against the pillow, the room spinning slightly as you tried to anchor yourself to reality.

As you lay there, trying to steady your spinning head, a soft silvery light caught your eye. It wasn't the sunlight streaming through the window, but a gentle blue glow, like moonlight.

Confusion gave way to awe as you realized the source of the light was none other than yourself.

Your hands, held before your eyes in disbelief, were bathed in the same silvery-blue glow that had enveloped Nysa. The light ebbed and flowed around your skin, swirling.

With bated breath, you watched as the glow began to fade, the light slowly receding until your skin returned to its normal shade. You didn’t doubt it any more; the events of the previous night were real.

The thought sent a thrill through you, and you shivered.

You hoped that Nysa would return. Something deep inside of you said they would.

#monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster romance #exophilia fiction #exophilia #tag: nbxnb #tag: celestial #tag: nonbinary monster #tag: nonbinary reader #tag: sfw

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mxnsterbabe · 4 days

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been really trying to improve my artwork from the past couple months. i really wanted to redraw an oc, and i’m liking the process so far

#👀👀

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mxnsterbabe · 5 days

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"Just look at him! It's a crime he isn't romanceable in vanilla Fallout 4 but he would absolutely treat you right"

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mxnsterbabe · 6 days

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As someone who's been really into Blaidd lately, I'm happy to see you giving the big Half-Wolf some appreciation! He's a good man.

FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THIS, I'm working on a Nick Valentine fic at the moment, but Blaidd is next on my list!

I absolutely adore him, Blaidd is so fun a character (and yknow. Hot as fuck)

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mxnsterbabe · 6 days

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Reminder that my Patreon is live! Get access to exclusive monster stories and early posts, as well as sneak previews for other projects~

#exophilia fiction #exophilia #monster fucker #patreon #patreon writer

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mxnsterbabe · 7 days

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Okay okay so I'm a big Fallout nerd, the show's come out, etc etc but-

I've barely played 76. Haven't played it since they first patched in NPCs. Seriously, what game starts out without NPCs??

Anyway, are there any NPCs that make the game worth playing? Any I'd probably simp for? Please let me know!

#fallout #fallout 76 #there's only so many times i can replay 3 and 4 #and before u ask YES i've played new vegas #controversial but its not my fave :(

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mxnsterbabe · 8 days

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"The players are all made up, and waiting for the curtain… Let's give them a show to remember, eh. Just don't you go dying on me. For Ranni's sake too."

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mxnsterbabe · 9 days

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Is there a chance that you might write a part 2 for Beau’s story, I really liked it! I’m interested to know if he will ever reconcile with Esmeralda, has he really changed and does he actual have feelings for the reader or is that to ease our trust to let him stay? Anyway lovely writing as always and I hope you have a magnificent day! 💕

I don't have anything specific planned 😌 but maybe I will do a part two!!

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mxnsterbabe · 9 days

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Male Vampire/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,656 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You've been told never to invite Beau inside the Halfway House, and you don't plan to. Except, he finds a way inside anyway - and he might not be all that you thought.

The chill of the winter evening bit at your skin as you stepped off the final leg of your journey, the quaint silhouette of Esmeralda's Halfway House emerging through the mist. Your day had been a mess of minor misfortunes; trains delayed by the winter weather, connections missed by mere moments. Now, well past dinner, the glow from the windows of the halfway house promised a sanctuary from the cold.

Miss Esmeralda, upon opening the door, was like a burst of summer in the heart of winter. Her welcoming smile, wide and genuine, immediately enveloped you in a warmth that the evening's frost could not penetrate. "You must be frozen," she exclaimed, her concern palpable as she ushered you inside, the door closing with a reassuring thud behind you.

The interior of the house was a contrast to the bleakness outside. Warm light bathed the walls, casting long, comforting shadows that danced gently in the periphery. Esmeralda led you through the hallway, her steps confident and inviting, to a room that she announced would be yours. It was a modest space, but the attention to comfort was evident in every detail—from the plush quilt on the bed to the soft, amber glow of the bedside lamp.

"I'll have someone bring your bags up shortly," Esmeralda promised, her voice carrying the cadence of someone who had spent a lifetime caring for others. "You settle in. Make yourself at home."

Despite the lateness of the hour, Esmeralda insisted on introducing you to a few of the residents who lingered in the communal areas, their night not yet drawn to a close. First were the twin gargoyles, Olivier and Laurent. They perched on the edge of a sturdy oak table, their forms more fluid than one might expect from creatures of stone. Their greeting was a chorus of nods, their expressions carved into gentle smirks that hinted at a playful nature beneath their statuesque exteriors.

Then there was Camilla, the dryad, who seemed almost a part of the house itself as she shyly hid in the shadows. She was reserved, her demeanour as delicate as the frost patterns on a windowpane, yet her smile towards you was warm, inviting—a silent welcome into this eclectic family.

Esmeralda explained that the other residents had already retired for the evening. The house, she shared, was a refuge not just for those who found themselves at the mercy of circumstance but also for those seeking redemption.

As Esmeralda guided you through the house, she pointed out the key areas with a sense of pride. The kitchen, she explained, was the heart of the home, where you'd spend most of your time crafting meals that brought everyone together. It was spacious and well-equipped, with pots hanging like metallic fruit from the ceiling and herbs lining the windowsill, their scents mingling in the warm air.

Next was the library, a cosy room lined with shelves that reached towards the high ceiling, filled with books of every imaginable genre. "A place for quiet reflection," Esmeralda remarked, her voice softening with reverence for the written word.

As you admired the library's stained glass window, a sudden noise from outside momentarily distracted you.

Esmeralda's expression tightened, a rare frown crossing her features. "That's only Beau," she said, her tone carrying a hint of discomfort. "An old guest who's no longer welcome here. Just don't invite him in or speak to him, and you'll be fine."

The warning piqued your curiosity, but before you could inquire further, your gaze was drawn to a fleeting image outside the library window—a figure with long white hair that caught the moonlight, creating an almost ethereal glow.

Miss Esmeralda, perhaps sensing your lingering curiosity about the figure outside, quickly steered the tour towards the living room and game room. The living area was spacious yet cosy, with plush sofas and a crackling fireplace that seemed to invite long, comfortable evenings. The game room boasted an eclectic mix of entertainment, from vintage board games to a well-worn pool table, clearly designed to bring joy and relaxation to its inhabitants.

As she showed you around, Esmeralda shared a bit of the house's history. "This was originally my grandmother's home, then it passed to my mother. My parents transformed it into this halfway house about fifty years ago, and now... it's mine," she explained, her voice tinged with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

The warmth in her words prompted you to ask, "Are you human, Miss Esmeralda?" The question had been dancing on the tip of your tongue since you'd arrived, given the unique nature of the halfway house's residents.

With a playful twinkle in her eye, Esmeralda winked and replied, "You'll have to stay long enough to find out."

Feeling the conversation shift away from the enigmatic Beau, you found yourself smiling, the tension eased by Esmeralda's charm and the homely feel of the house.

After Esmeralda excused herself to attend to other matters, promising to let you settle in, you wandered back to the library, drawn by the promise of losing yourself in a good book. The room, with its walls of stories and the gentle hush that filled the air, felt like a refuge.

As you browsed the shelves, the sight of an open window caught your attention, the night breeze causing the curtains to flutter softly. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold, but from the reminder of the white-haired figure.

As you reached for the window to close it, a voice drifted in from the darkness, its tone laced with a quiet desperation. "Please, may I come in?"

The owner of the voice was just a slender silhouette against the blackness, elusive and barely discernible. Your heart raced, Esmeralda's warning echoing in your mind. With a steadiness you didn't feel, you responded, "I'm sorry, I can't let you in."

The figure outside seemed undeterred, their plea softening. "I only wish to apologise to Miss Esmeralda, you understand. She won't listen."

Despite the sincerity in the voice, your anxiety held firm, a tight knot in your stomach. "No, I really can't let you in." you repeated, your voice firmer this time, even as you reached to close the window fully.

The soft glow from the library's lamp illuminated slender fingers and manicured nails resting against the window sill, adorned with a single silver ring that caught the light. The sight of such human-like hands made your stomach flutter.

Before they could say anything else, your shaking hands slammed the window closed. Then you turned heel and ran, the idea of choosing a book now abandoned in the wake of your frayed nerves.

Retreating to the sanctuary of your room, you changed into pyjamas, unwilling to let yourself think about the man outside for too long. If you did, then you’d start to over think, and that never ended well. It was difficult not to think about those strange, elongated fingers though, or the soft voice that asked may I come in?

Crawling into bed, the quiet of the house enveloped you; but the peace you wanted remained elusive.

As sleep finally claimed you, you wondered if there was more to all of this than Miss Esmeralda was letting on.

***

Waking early the next morning, you felt a sense of purpose as you made your way to the kitchen, determined to start your day on a positive note by preparing breakfast for the house.

Camilla, the dryad with sparkling skin, joined you silently as you were looking for the seasonings. Without words, she guided you through the kitchen, her delicate hands pointing out where the essentials were stored, her silent efficiency easing your way.

As the house slowly woke and the residents gathered to eat, the kitchen became a hub of quiet activity, the sounds of morning routines weaving together in a symphony of new beginnings. With your own plate in hand, you decided to use the opportunity to explore.

Wandering the halls with a sense of curiosity, you stumbled upon a little side room, its door slightly ajar, inviting exploration. Pushing it open, you discovered a small living room, much smaller than the other rooms you’d seen.

The room was bathed in soft, natural light from a skylight above, casting gentle shadows across the plush armchairs. A small bookshelf lined one wall, its shelves filled with well-thumbed novels and worn poetry collections, the scent of old paper and whispered stories filling the air. In the corner, a small fireplace, dusty with misuse.

Above the fireplace, a painting caught your eye, its figures rendered with such lifelike precision they seemed almost ready to step out of the frame. There was an older man and woman — she in a gown with wide, voluminous skirts, a bodice laced tight, and he in a coat with elaborate cuffs and a waistcoat richly embroidered.

They were both smiling.

Beside them stood a curly-haired girl, her face eerily similar to Esmeralda. She even had the same mole beneath her left eye, the same quirk to her lips.

A boy, no more than ten, stood beside her, his pale blond hair falling over his eyes. His pose was casual, a hint of mischief in his smile.

As you stared up at the painting, a voice startled you. "That was my family, centuries ago," Esmeralda’s voice said, and you spun to see her smile tinged with sadness as she joined you in front of the painting.

You turned to her, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit together in your mind. "Centuries?" you echoed, the implications slowly dawning on you.

"Yes, my brother and I were turned into vampires when we were still quite young. Our parents, however, remained human... They grew old and passed away, leaving us with this legacy."

You swallowed thickly. You were at a halfway house for monsters, you reminded yourself. It made sense that the host was one, too.

"And the house?” You asked. “You mentioned it was your grandmother's."

A soft laugh escaped her, tinged with memories. "Indeed, it was. Just... a bit more long ago than you might think. This house has been in our family since it was built in the sixteenth century, until it became the refuge it is today."

Your shock must have mirrored on your face, because Esmeralda laughed softly.

"It all makes sense now," you murmured, suddenly too aware of the shaking in your hands. Your plate rattled when you set it down.

Hesitantly, you pointed to the boy in the painting, the one with the pale blond hair and piercing blue eyes. "Him? I have a feeling I know who that might be..."

Esmeralda's expression darkened slightly, a shadow passing over her features. "Yes, that's Beau," she confirmed, her voice heavy. "He was part of this family, once. I had to make the difficult decision to ask him to leave. He... he started feeding on some of the guests in their sleep."

You shivered.

"He was found out because one of the guests was a werewolf. The blood made Beau violently ill, and that's when we discovered what he had been doing."

You were beginning to wonder what you’d gotten yourself into. "When I spoke to him, “you said, “he seemed genuinely regretful.”

Esmeralda's eyes widened, lips parted in a gasp. "You've been speaking to him?" The idea seemed to alarm her more than it should have "Please, I must insist—Beau is not to be trusted. His regret, while it may seem genuine, comes after too much harm has been done. It's best to keep your distance, for your own safety."

"What harm can talking do?" you pressed. "Don't vampires need an invitation to come in? I haven't invited him in."

Esmeralda nodded, her expression grave. "Yes, they must be invited; but you must understand, an invitation, once given, can only be revoked by the owner of the house. If you, even unknowingly, invite him in… I won’t necessarily be there to help."

The weight of her words settled heavily between you. "So, I shouldn’t even risk it?” you asked softly.

"Exactly," Esmeralda confirmed, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Keep the windows closed at all times, and do not venture outside after dark. You’re the only human here; it's for your safety as much as it is for the safety of everyone in this house."

Despite your protests, your inclination to see the good in others, Esmeralda remained insistent. She gently but firmly steered you out of the room, back towards the kitchen, her protective stance unwavering.

The conversation was clearly over, the warning issued with a finality that left coldness creeping into your bones.

***

Several days passed before curiosity and a longing for the library overcame your apprehension. The space, with its endless rows of books, eventually beckoned you back.

It seemed the library wasn't a popular haunt among the residents; Olivier and Laurent preferred the game room, while Camilla, with her gentle nature, kept mostly to herself.

So, you found yourself alone, the quiet of the room wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. You browsed the shelves, deliberately avoiding the windows, still mindful of Esmeralda's warnings.

However, as you moved through the room, you noticed the curtains at one window were tangled. Compelled to fix them, you approached, your hands reaching out to untangle the fabric. That's when you heard it—a soft tap, barely audible, at the window.

Your first instinct was to ignore it, to listen to Esmeralda's warnings and walk away. Yet, curiosity gnawed at you, coupled with a sliver of hope that perhaps Esmeralda was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for understanding.

You opened the window just enough to speak, cautious yet driven by a desire to understand. Beau, standing just beyond the reach of the library's soft light, seemed to exhale a sigh of relief at the small concession.

"I appreciate this... truly," Beau began, his voice smooth yet tinged with sincerity. "It's been a long time since anyone at Esmeralda's has been willing to hear me out."

You hesitated before replying, "Esmeralda did mention you, but it was more a warning to stay away from you than anything else." The words felt harsh even as they hung in the air, but you felt compelled to be honest.

His shadow flinched. "That makes sense," he conceded. "I suppose I can't blame her. I did things I'm not proud of. Continue to do things I’m not proud of."

You said nothing, even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts before continuing. "There was a reason for it all, I assure you. Esmeralda thought we could... wean ourselves off human blood. She managed, somewhat, to control her urges. For me, it was never that simple."

You leaned closer to the crack in the window, maintaining a cautious distance, pulse thudding. "What do you mean?"

His pale eyes flashed in the darkness. They were almost iridescent, pearly and beautiful.

Captivated, you leaned in closer, elbows resting on the windowsill.

"For Esmeralda, being turned was a gift," he began, his voice carrying a hint of both admiration and envy. "It gave her a chance to be more, to escape the confines of what society expected of her. She's flourished over the centuries, becoming... well, more than I think even she anticipated."

He paused, and you just barely saw sharp teeth and a gleaming, albeit humourless, smile. "For me, it wasn't the same. I've always been in her shadow, struggling to find my place, to define who I am beyond this... condition."

The vulnerability in his confession made you shiver, longing to reach out and take his hand. To apologise for all that had happened to him.

"My bloodlust is stronger than hers, it always has been. Drinking from the residents in their sleep—it was a way to cope, to stave off the hunger without losing myself to it. I was terrified of what might happen if I let the hunger control me, though thankfully, it never came to that."

Sympathy tugged at your heart, tears prickling the corner of your eyes. It seemed to you that Beau was a product of his creation, not somebody who wanted to cause harm.

"If only I could tell her in person,” he said, “speak to Esmeralda face to face, and tell her I'm sorry.”

You bit the inside of your lip, knowing how futile that was. “Esmeralda won’t speak to you. You’d have to come in and hunt her down yourself—”

His eyes flashed, and too late you realised what you’d done. Cold dread filled you. “Wait! No, I wasn’t asking you to actually do that!”

Too late. Suddenly the window, previously only cracked open, swung wider, the cold night air rushing in. Before you could react, a figure gracefully manoeuvred through the opening, long coat billowing in the breeze.

Standing before you was Beau, in the flesh. He was tall and willowy, his pale skin almost luminescent in the dim light of the library. His white-blond hair was braided, falling over one shoulder in a cascade of pale silk. It was his eyes that truly captivated you, though; pale to the point of being almost purple, his pupils black against the soft lilac.

"Thank you for letting me in," Beau said with a smirk. “It was so kind of you.”

You stepped back with a jolt, knees buckling; but before you could retreat further, Beau closed the distance with a single, fluid motion, wrapping his long arms and pulling you flush against his strong chest.

In that moment, every cautionary tale, every warning about vampires you'd ever heard, flashed through your mind. You braced yourself for the sharp pain of fangs, for the sensation of being drained.

It never came. Instead, there was only the warmth of his embrace, the softness of his hair brushing against your cheek, and the steady beat of a heart you hadn't expected him to possess.

"I've been staying in a cottage further down the road," Beau murmured into the embrace, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "Finally, I'm home."

Hesitantly, your arms lifted to return the embrace, wrapping around Beau in a tentative gesture. It was clear from the tension that slowly ebbed away from his frame that he needed this little moment to gather himself.

Then, without warning, Beau's lips found yours in a kiss that took your breath away. For a moment, you were frozen, shock coursing through you; but as the kiss deepened, the initial astonishment gave way to a warmth that unfurled in you, your body responding to his with a warmth that left you baffled.

The kiss was gentle even as his fangs clicked against your own duller teeth. There was no taste of blood, no hint of the predator in the way he kissed you. Instead, there was the delicate flavour of herbal tea and sugar, sweet and perfumed.

When he finally pulled away, there was a smug satisfaction in his smirk, a playful glint in his pale eyes. "Just a little thank you," he murmured, brushing hair from your face. “For letting me inside.”

"You do realise I didn't mean to invite you in," you managed to say, half-hearted irritation mingling with the lingering warmth from his kiss.

Beau's response came with a sly, teasing edge. "Consider it a warning, then. Not all vampires are as charming and handsome as I am."

Your laughter broke the tension, a sound that seemed to delight him. His hand came up to cup your jaw gently, a gesture that was both tender and possessive. The cool touch of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear, but from the electricity that seemed to spark between you.

"Won't you talk to Esmeralda now?" you asked, hoping to steer the conversation back to safer grounds, to the apology he had insisted he needed to make.

"No, that can wait," Beau replied, his gaze locked with yours. "What I really wanted was to get a good look at you. I must say, I like what I see."

The boldness of his words, the unabashed way he admired you, stirred something deep within you—it wasn’t something you could name, but it had warmth spreading through you.

Before you could voice a protest, he leaned in for another kiss. This time, you were ready for it, the anticipation sending a flush across your skin.

The kiss deepened, Beau's lips pressing against yours with a fervour that was absent in the first. Although his hands were gentle, he gripped you with a purpose, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The sensation was heady, intoxicating, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, that there was a world beyond the two of you.

When you finally came up for air, you were breathless, a sheen of sweat on your skin despite the cool air of the library.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a kiss quite that good.”

Laughter spilled from your lips, as you pressed into his chest to avoid meeting his gaze. “Really?”

“Really.”

There was a pause, long enough that you glanced up to see if Beau was all right. He looked down at you, gaze soft, and confessed, "I don't know if I can make things right with Esmeralda... but I want to try."

The vulnerability tugged at something deep within you. "I'll help you," you said. "But only If I can keep kissing you like that."

Beau's laughter was rich and carefree, dispelling any lingering tension. "Of course," he promised, his smile both wicked and tender. "There will be plenty more kisses like that, I assure you."

“Good. Then how about we start now?”

Without hesitation, he dove in for another kiss.

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mxnsterbabe · 10 days