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flightlessangelwings · 7 months

Text

My Knight in White

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 4.3k

Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n

About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.

He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you.

Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.

“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”

“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.

“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”

It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.

Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.

“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”

He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”

Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”

He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.

Too late.

You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.

“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”

The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”

The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.

“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.

“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.

Suddenly, your luck changed.

Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.

You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.

The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.

You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.

Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”

As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.

You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.

It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.

“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”

He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared.

You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.

The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.

In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.

Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did.

Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you…

“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed.

He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.

Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”

“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”

The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”

Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.

You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”

“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”

Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…

“Marc…”

“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.

Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him.

But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off.

Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.

“Marc?” your voice shook.

“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”

“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.

“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.

“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”

He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”

Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”

There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so.

As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do.

But that plan also quickly backfired.

You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.

“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.

Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you.

The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.

More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.

You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.

“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.

The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?”

“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.

“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded.

When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.

You ran.

Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.

And then you heard it.

Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”

You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms.

The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear.

“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.

“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.

“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.

The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.

“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.

“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”

Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.

This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.

Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”

Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”

Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.

You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.

“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.

“Please Marc,” you pleaded.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.

“Marc…”

He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”

“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Marc… I’m…”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.

Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.

He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.

Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

“Marc, I…”

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”

You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.

Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.”

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arealphrooblem · 11 months

Note

Hi!! First off I just want to say that this is my new favorite writing blog on tumblr!! I'm so grateful for whatever strings the universe pulled that led me here. I'm literally addicted to every single thing you've written here. I swear I've read Mutually Assured Destruction like ten times within the past 24 hours.

I was wondering, if you find the free time and the inspiration, if you could write a villain x medic/civilian snippet? Maybe Medic accidentally witnessed villain's crime so villain can't let them just wander around freely since medic works for the hero agency, but also doesn't want to kill medic since medic is useful?

Thank you so much! I've always loved the idea of Villain x Medic so here you go!

CW: Kidnapping

“You know my face.”

The medic knew this day would come. Still, they froze in the doorway of the living room, keys dangling in their hands, blood frosting over in sheer dread. The villain sat with their legs crossed in the medic’s favorite armchair, the fire place unlit. The room in semi-darkness, the only light a glow from a street-lamp.

They didn’t ask how the villain knew their address. They should have taken Hero’s offer to leave under witness protection, but their whole life was built here. They couldn’t just leave and start over.

“I haven’t revealed it,” the medic said.

“Yet,” the villain amended. “I’m sure you would for the right price. Or under the right pressure.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t. But I am not going to risk it.”

The lamp beside the couch switched on. The medic flinched away from the sight, eyes trained on the coat rack by the door. As if mattered anymore if they saw the villain’s face again. As if they hadn’t doomed themselves the first time.

Footsteps creaked over the old wood floors. The medic took slow deep breaths, holding it for four counts and releasing it. A trick they had taught people afraid of IV needles to calm their racing heart.

The time to run had long since passed. And even if it hadn’t, the villain most definitely had people outside lying in wait for such an escape.

Hands that tipped the medic’s chin to meet that dangerous gaze.

“You’re going to kill me,” the medic said. It was not a question.

An eyebrow raised. “You sound very calm about that.”

“My career has taught me how to recognize and accept things that aren’t in my control. Right now there is nothing I can do to stop you.”

“This is true.”

The villain studied them, thumb brushing absently against the curve of their bottom lip. The darkness of their eyes felt unfathomable, like the Marianas Trench. Like the deepest part of the ocean, full of wonder and terror.

“I am not going to kill you,” the villain said finally. “I owe you my life. And I always repay my debts. But you know my face.”

The medic swallowed thickly against the barrage of options that opened up. The villain could blind them, torture them into insanity, cut out their tongue. All of the above. The villain’s hand slips across their cheek to cup the back of the medic’s head. A possessive gesture, they noted with a shiver.

“You are coming with me. Whether it be conscious or unconscious, I leave up to your . . . control.”

Relief warred with new fear. “Where are you taking me?” they asked. “What happens to me when we get there?”

“Questions I will happily answer in the car,” said the villain, their hand sliding down the medic’s

neck before retreating. “Hand me your phone and your keys and then go pack your things. You have ten minutes.”

The medic stood rooted to the spot. This was real, this was happening. And it yet it still felt like a bad dream. Ten minutes to pack their life up? Ten minutes?

“Tick tock, darling,” crooned the villain, holding their hand out.

Numbly, the medic dropped their phone and keys into the villain's hand and took robotic steps towards their bedroom. Clothes were easy to grab and stuff into the suitcase. As were their birth certificate and other identity papers. Personal items, less so. Medic spent precious minutes at their bookshelf, picking a well thumbed classic from their childhood, their most referenced medical texts, and a novel they hadn’t started yet.

The pressure of time throbbed in the back of their head, making it difficult to think rationally about what they needed. They ducked into the bathroom, grabbing their contact case and solution, their toothbrush. Then they stood in the middle of their bedroom, frantically trying to think of what they couldn’t live without.

“Times up.”

The villain’s voice came from behind, causing the medic to jump out of their skin.

“Zip it up and let’s go.”

The villain’s car lay hidden in the shadows of the back alley. A dangerous looking driver waiting for them, their cigarette glow the only light. The villain opened the backseat of the car for Medic with a mocking flourish.

It was their last opportunity to run, but the medic knew a shot in the back waited for them if they tried it. So, dread sitting heavy in their stomach, they climbed in. The villain took the seat next to them, giving out curt orders to the driver in a language the medic didn’t recognize.

The nagging horror that the medic forgot something important haunted them. They leaned their head against the window, mentally walking through their house, trying to remember. But the fear churning in their blood made it so difficult.

“I’m taking you to my compound,” said the villain, almost conversationally. As if detailing the itinerary for a date. “I have a room set up for you, as well as a med bay. You can resume your work taking care of my mercenaries.”

The medic listened with half an ear, watching the wave of street lamps pass them by. What were they missing?

“No objections to that?” the villain asked, bemused.

They passed a park, one the medic had many birthday parties in as a child, and the sudden zing of memory made them gasp.

“Stop! We have to go back!” they cried.

The driver didn’t so much as flinch.

“Go back?" The villain laughed. "Too late for that, doctor. You should have protested before you climbed into this car."

"I forgot something!"

"Whatever it is can be replaced," the villain said with a dismissive wave of their hand.

"It's not replaceable. Please."

Desperation clawed at their throat but the villain remained unmoved.

"If it were so important, one would think it would be the first thing you packed, not the first thing you forgot. You will have to learn to live without it."

The medic closed their eyes the rest of the journey. They couldn't bear to look at Villain's face.

"Do you regret it?"

The villain sat upon the examination bed, looking almost innocent.

It had been a week since the medic was taken. Their life had changed so drastically that the normality of the med bay, of the tools they had spent years around, clanged like a discordant note. They threw themselves into their work, demanding physicals for the Villain's mercenaries to establish a baseline of health. These people, so used to sewing their own wounds, grew awkward around the medic’s soft and attentive care. Some refused to come.

The villain showed up last, a new laceration on their ribs. They sat, spine straight and unflinching as medic carefully cleaned the wound and bandaged it.

"Regret what?" the medic asked.

" . . .Saving my life."

Their hands stilled for a moment, hovering over the wound. It was a tricky question and the medic wasn't sure how to answer it honestly.

"I would have regretted the person that I'd become if I had let you die," they said finally.

"Oh? Most people would consider it a net positive, preventing all my future damage."

"It's not up to me to decide who deserves to live and who doesn't."

"I beg to differ. You hold people's lives in your hands every day. Who else, if not you?"

The medic glanced up at the villain, who stared at them with open-faced fascination, rather than the usual dispassion.

"I don't think any one person should have that power," they said pointedly.

The villain smiled, a slow curving movement. "A pity. You could be terrifying indeed."

The medic swallowed something strange dancing in their gut. "You're lucky I'm not."

"Indeed I am."

They finished the examination without further conversation. The villain watched with quiet fascination as the medic sterilized their tools, folded unused bandages away, updated the Villain's medical records.

"What did you leave behind?" they asked softly.

"My life," the medic said, tersely, as they tapped on the keyboard.

The villain was undeterred. "What did you remember in the car?"

The medic paused at that, unsure if they should answer. They didn't want the villain's mockery over it. But lies rarely went over well with the villain -- the medic had cleaned up the wounds left behind from that.

"A box under my bed," they replied, keeping their eyes locked on the computer. "It had my keepsakes in it. Family photos, birthday cards, that sort of thing."

"Sentiment," the villain said skeptically. "That's what got you so worked up?"

"I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand," they snapped, standing up.

The villain watched them leave and the medic felt their gaze like a laser all the way down the hall.

Two days later a painfully familiar box sat on the examination table. Scribbled in sharpie on the cardboard was a message:

I do understand.

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #villain x medic #my writing #asks #writeblr

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eclectic-sassycoweyes · 27 days

Note

🌵📚🦋 please <3

Hi Michelle! Thank you!! (Writer’s Truth or Dare Ask Game)

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Okay so I won’t be linking to my playlists bc I don’t want to share my full name on a post for everybody to see and connect to my blog hehe but! I am quite fond of my playlists, so what I will do is share 5 songs from my recently most listened to playlists!

Travel Rhythms:

Cruisin’ by Smokey Robinson

On the Road Again by Canned Heat

Ship of Fools by The Doors (as I’ve probably mentioned too many times my recent travels was mainly on a sailing boat so I thought I was being quite funny with this one lol)

Me and Bobby McGee by Janis Joplin

California Soul by Marlena Shaw

Calm Playlist (overlaps by a Playlisr directly translated to ‘Calm and Yoga Without Sadness lol and Calm Travel Rhythms):

Kathy’s Song by Eva Cassidy

Myth by Beach House

Manhattan by Cat Power

Boxing Day Blues by Courtney Barnett

VCR by The XX

Dancing Playlist 🕺

Ain’t Nobody by Chaka Khan

Somebody Else’s Guy by Jocelyn Brown

Strong Enough by Cher

The Rhythm of the Night by Corona

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) by Sylvester

Relight My Fire by Dan Hartman

Psycho Killer by Talking Heads

It’s Raining Men by The Weather Girls

American Boy by Estelle

We Are Family by The Sister Sledge

What a Diff’rence a Day Makes by Esther Phillips

Family Affair by Mary J. Blige

.. Oops I kept going 🫣 I miss dancing, I have not done it enough in the last yeah so I got lost in my playlist heheh

Ahahahha that was not a correct answer to this question but those are all features in my playlists so if you added them all together I guess you’d have one playlist with very mixed moods lol

Also sorry to go overboard, I was the kid whose friends never let me be the one to control the music so when I get the chance to share from my playlists…

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

I’ve opened and moved my notes around today and I was up too late last night so I’m actually not sure which was the last so here are 3 options:

1) That @lemonlyman-dotcom’s fic Love Of My Life ..Pain In My Ass! Should go in the not yet established Hall Of Fame of TK Strand Shenanigan/TK being the greatest adventure of Carlos’ life - centered fics!

And 2) quotes from @strandnreyes’s new fic all is not lost as well as that Jen is the true master of Married Tarlos Fics Now Turned Canon

- both in preparation of forming coherent ways of drizzling them with the love I feel for them in the comments, which I struggle with due to a brain that is 90% air moving around sometimes when I try to concentrate

(For Jen and Lemon, even though I don’t have that much reach in the fandom, links and mentions are intended to function as fic and author recs and not ways to get your attention btw🫣🫣)

And 3) the sentence “I’m gonna come” from a fic I’m working on that was supposed to be crack but has turned into mostly filth, introspection, sexual headcanons and a smidge of angst 🙃🙃

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

Soo many things!!

1) I need me a place to live in the city that I’m supposed to resume my studies in, in the fall - and I need to not live with my parents anymore, as I’ve been doing temporarily between travels to not have an empty studio to pay rent to, even though I love them.. I need my young-person independent life back!! I need alone time, to go out dancing, have my own structure, and to start dating again lol.

2) my friends are sailing their boat home from Florida and they need help and I want to so badly, but everything in my life is so unset so I can’t make a decision.. also I can’t find out if I’m too afraid to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a 51 foot sailing boat 🫣🌊 They’re departing on the 27th so I’m feeling the pressure of needing to make a decision.

3) Fandom has been a lot on my mind lately! Though fandom has been part of my life for many many years, I have been mostly lurking until some few years ago. But even then, I have switched from one fandom that sort of dwindled over to LS, and getting into that has been interrupted by Life and Studies and Travels. It means a lot to me to enter into fandom and make it part of my life and free time to actually spend time on that interest, and create and interact bc I really love it. But it being kind of new also means I haven’t found the right balance yet (it doesn’t help that I’m living at my parents’ and are not fully able to structure my own time or have quiet alone time other than late at night) and I’m still treading carefully and overthinking a bit about how to interact and what are the lingo and unspoken rules and how does the making friends and so on work bc I don’t have a lot of experience with internet relations. In real life I usually find people and over share with them and then they over share with me and then we know each other and how to be and you can read from tone or face if you’re stepping over some line or pushing some wrong button and you can talk about it without having to make it a big thing by basically sending an email with an ‘Am I being annoying’ hehehe🙃

I loove fandom, this one in particular ! - not only are you all so talented but I’ve fallen into this bubble of incredibly nice and funny and level-headed people and Tarlos + all the other characters and all the rep (nuanced queer characters arghhgr) and love (canon soulmates arggshg) and sexiness and silliness gives me so much joy so that’s mostly why it’s on my mind, but definitely the learning to navigate both within fandom and in relation to Life is a big part of it!

Thank you again Michelle lol if you even made it this far, SORRY I can not be short and concise, it has turned out to be impossible.:) happy whatever day it is where you are! (Here it just turned Wednesday)☺️🌼

#ask games #Michelle asks #mar answers #my music #Mar rambles #mar rambles about Mar #fic recs #author recs #mar writes something

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twisted-lusty · 5 months

Text

Explaining the situation.

Hello dear sinners. I’m Lust(y), and, as some of you may know, I was a small Twisted Wonderland writer who just disappeared during the start of 2023. Well, some of you may know what happened to me… but for those who don’t: I almost got doxed.

You see, the main focus of my blog has always been NSFW… And I not only used to write NSFW of the 3rd years (like in this blog) but also from the other characters of the cast - with exception of Ortho. I always separated the media from reality and I still follow this policy, however, some people don’t see the same. I really don’t mind with folks blocking me or not enjoying my content, however, I was heavily harassed by the fandom.

Most of the time I used to delete the comments, but sometimes, I was a bit petty or showed them some arguments. Anyways, soon the asks in my inbox started to get heavier and I started to feel a bit afraid. It got to the point I received gore links and other stuff. Still, I wasn’t that worried… until someone sent a message with the name of my city on it and explicit threats to find where I live, study/work and places I tend to go, together with my real info.

Of course, it was probably just someone crossing information, but still, I got extremely afraid. It’s not everyday someone sends you the name of your city that isn’t so popular for people outside of Brazil. I got very scared and just wiped up my blog from Tumblr - and nowadays, I see how irresponsible it was from me. I should have at least left a note behind and not make people I used to interact with share what happened. I feel deeply sorry for you guys and the friends I made in the fandom.

I may still have some prints of the messages I received, however, it’s not guaranteed. I will try to find those as some kind of proof, but it may be hard to do so.

The blog was initially made because a mental health professional advised me to do so, to somehow help me… It soon proved to be hell to me, but nowadays, I decided to give another chance. Again, I apologize for everything and hope you guys can forgive me! I don’t want any kind of problem or drama anymore…

Thanks for everything. I’ll try to be as active as I can, however, it may be a bit hard due to my personal life and the little paranoia I got from the situation. I don’t plan on doing big projects like continuing the fangame or anything like this… and probably, I’ll just stick to Tumblr.

Anyways, thanks for reading, my little sinners. If you have any questions, feel free to send me.

With love, Lust~

#twisted-lusty #twisted lusty #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic

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accidentalmistress · 1 year

Text

Accidental Mistress - Library Magic (NSFW)

It's that time again! Today's release is a spicy one, and possibly one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy.

(For more Accidental Mistress content, check out the Master Post.)

Please do not reblog to non kink blogs, minors DNI.

Title: Library Magic

Word Count: 3,300

Content and Warnings: snz (male), NSFW

In which Oraion accompanies his Mistress Noelle to study dusty, old arcane tomes at a library, with predictable results.

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

The Tigate Librarium had stood in the central square of Tigate City for so long, no one was certain anymore if the Librarium was named for the City, or the City for the Librarium. What was certain, however, was that the current Head Librarian, Ms Ogtrop, was both the most efficient and organized Head the Librarium had ever employed, and also its most terrifying.

At six foot three, it was uncommon, though not entirely unheard of, for Demon Lord Oraion Leroux to meet those of his height or slightly taller. Encountering a mortal he needed to crane his neck to look at, though, was about as common as convincing a lindwyrm to play fetch, so the fact that he needed to tilt his head a fair degree to make eye contact with the Head Librarian was a novel, if somewhat unnerving, experience. The green cast of her skin and short tusks jutting from her lower lip only added to the singularity of the encounter. A full-blooded orc was a rare sight these days.

“Those books are on the second floor, Section B, fifth row, third bookcase, shelves four through seven. All books in that Section are restricted, and as such can neither be checked out nor leave the Librarium. Is that clear?”

“As crystal, ma’am.”

“Good. And if you think for a moment that you could possibly get away with smuggling any volumes out… Don’t. I will know. I always know.”

Oraion did his best to appear as a physical manifestation of conciliation. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

“Good.” The Librarian paused and took a moment to look Oraion up and down with her golden eyes. “My shift ends at eight o’clock, by the way.”

This, at least, was more familiar territory. Throughout his long life, Oraion had turned down countless hopefuls, though this time he had to admit he was tempted. The thighs that peeked out below the hem of Ogtrop’s skirt—the cut of which was painfully inadequate at fulfilling any sort of intended modesty on her towering frame—looked like they’d crack a watermelon like a walnut. A night with her promised to leave you with bruises and bite marks—and you’d thank her for the privilege. Instead Oraion inclined his head with grace.

“You flatter me, madam, but I am afraid I must decline. I am already spoken for.”

“Hm. Pity. However, your integrity is laudable. Well then, please note that eight o’clock is also when the Librarium closes, so you would do well to conclude your business before then.”

“Of course. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Yes, yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

The imposing Librarian turned on her heel and marched off, her heavy footfalls reverberating through the floor with a rhythmic beat. Oraion’s gaze lingered just a moment on the way her full hips moved, then he returned to where his Mistress, Noelle Violette, waited by the entrance, wringing the end of her scarf.

“Were you able to find anything out?”

“I was indeed. The Head Librarian gave me the location of the arcane tomes you’re looking for—come, I’ll show you where they are.”

He guided Noelle to where Ms Ogtrop had indicated, passing along the rules for the handling of restricted books as they went.

“They can't be checked out? I suppose that makes sense, but… Augh, that means I'll only have a few hours to study them! I was hoping to take them back to the inn with us tonight and then bring them back before we leave to go home tomorrow…”

Oraion chuckled. “And did this plan of yours involve any sleep?”

A light blush of pink came to Noelle’s fair cheeks. “Well, some I’m sure, but this is a rare opportunity! I could always catch up on sleep later. Besides, that won’t matter if I can’t check them out. I’ll just have to use the time I do have wisely.”

Row after row of shelves were stuffed with a multitude of tomes. The air was laced with the scent of old paper and leather. Once they located the desired shelves, Noelle browsed through the volumes, pointing out a number of titles with great interest and enthusiasm.

“Oh! Look at this! They have a first edition copy of Nolan Kingston’s The Grimoire of Stars! And these scrolls—they’re from Tsothatan’s Noth-Yngath Esoterica! Just look at all of these: Artum Codex, Librum of Ninai, The Book of Far Realms— Oh my goodness, they have a copy of Tome of the Watcher! After it was published, the author Soth Sholei disappeared, and no one ever found out what happened to them!”

As she babbled excitedly about the texts, she handed book after book to Oraion until he was carrying a sizable, and somewhat heavy, stack. He couldn’t help but notice a thin layer of dust on most of them. Just the thought of it made his nose twitch. A smirk tugged his lips: perhaps this little study session wouldn’t be as boring as he’d feared.

“Mistress, I think perhaps this is enough to get started, at least. In fact, I’m not convinced you’ll be able to get through all of these before the Librarium closes.”

Noelle gave a little start, like she was waking up from a dream. “Oh! You’re right, I-I’m so sorry. Let’s find somewhere to sit down.”

Nearby were long, oaken tables surrounded by a large number of stout chairs with plush seats, all of which were presently vacant. The entire section of the Librarium they were in appeared quite deserted. Oraion carefully placed the stack of books on the table and took a seat next to Noelle, pulling his chair against hers. There were no arm rests, so they were close enough to touch, especially if Oraion leaned in.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read a bit over your shoulder? There might be something I can help with, after all.”

“Oh, um, a-all right.”

He ducked his head so his lips were close to her ear and dropped his voice.

“Always nice to have one’s nose in a good book.” He brushed the tip of his nose against the outer edge of her ear for emphasis. He felt a shiver run through her.

“Oraion, I-I don’t think now is the time…”

“Oh, of course, Mistress. My apologies. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your studies. Shall we begin?”

He took the tome from the top of the stack and placed it on the table in front of them.

“The Book of Sorcery. A fairly straightforward title.”

He flipped open the dusty manuscript with a flourish and probably a bit more force than was strictly necessary. In the light of the arcane reading lamps that hovered above the table, little globes of light encased within intricate brass cages, he caught a shimmer of swirling dust particles. Things were bound to get interesting now.

“So, Mistress, what would you like to review?”

“Hm, let me check the table of contents.”

As his Mistress pored over the book’s pages, Oraion felt a feathery flutter ripple through his sinuses, making his nose scrunch slightly. He said nothing, of course, but kept an eye on Noelle’s reaction. She hadn’t noticed yet, so he ran a finger beneath his septum and drew in a quick, sharp sniffle. Noelle’s leg against his own went tense for a second—she was definitely paying attention now. Oraion tried not to let his satisfaction show on his countenance.

“Um, m-maybe this section on conjuration? I would really, uh, like to know more about how you’re able to conjure things, you know, so easily.”

“Ah, you mean like this?” With a grin he held up his left hand and snapped his fingers, summoning his handkerchief. After all, he was going to need it shortly.

“Y-yes, like that.” Oraion noticed that Noelle’s gaze flicked from the cloth in his hand to his face, and back. He had a feeling he knew exactly what she was looking for in his face. As that feathery feeling intensified, he was certain his nose would be flushing pink soon, if it hadn’t started already.

“Well, the truth is -snf- that I don’t actually, ah, c-conjure anything. -sniff- I merely summoned it. I—” It was growing difficult to keep his breathing steady, and his eyes were beginning to water as his eyelids fluttered. Still, he could quite clearly see the pretty blush forming beneath Noelle’s freckles on her cheeks, along with the blossoming arousal he sensed within her. She squirmed in her seat.

“O-Oraion…”

“Oh dear, h-how terribly inconvenient. -sndf- These old b-books: they muh-must be du- heh- dusty…”

Below the table, he ran his right hand up her leg, squeezing her thigh while at the same time he pressed the handkerchief to his nose.

“ih-hiih- … hiihh! hiiHH’ISSHIUU!”

Through his hand on her leg he could feel the little jolt of pleasure and excitement she felt. He didn’t often get the chance to tease her in public like this. It made her titillation all the sweeter, the tinge of embarrassment she felt. She might not openly admit it, might even outright deny it or grow annoyed with him, but she could not hide from him that it got her even hotter.

“Oraion! S-stop that!”

“Y-you know I can’t heh-help it, Mistress. It’s the- the- eh-heh-heh! mmnh- the dust- HEHHSHIU!”

Noelle looked around nervously.

��B-but, you’re being loud! We’re in a library!”

He leaned in and nuzzled her earlobe, even as he felt another buzzing prickle building.

“Afraid we might gehehht in t-trouble? -snnff- hehh-hehhehh!”

“Y-yes!”

Oh, but she tasted so sweet like this. Gods, he would fuck her right here on the table if she wanted, library rules and propriety be damned. She would never go for that, of course, but that didn’t stop him from imagining it. Just how wound up could he get her, he wondered? He attempted the herculean task of holding back the itch that burned in his sinuses.

“B-but Mistress, you know heh-HEH! nngh- h-how teh-terribly ah-haahhllergic I am to du-dust. I ca-can’t hehhehhelp how sne- sne- sneezy it meh-makes me…”

He kept his nose touching her ear as his nares flared, letting her feel every twitch. As he did so, he slid his hand further up her thigh, pressing his fingers between her legs. He couldn’t last much longer, and if he had anything to say about it, neither would she.

“Th-the m-more I heh-heh! hold bahaahck, the w-worse it g-gets!” He gave a particularly wet sniffle right next to her ear. “Oh no- I-I’m guh- gonna- ehh-heh! M-Mistress, I n-need to sneeze!”

Certain he was about to incur the wrath of Ms Ogtrop, Oraion could not stop his chest from heaving as his nose crinkled.

“hiihhhIIHHhhh!”

With a little sound of desperation Noelle leapt up and grabbed his head, shoving his face directly into her chest and holding him there by hugging him with both arms. The fabric of her blouse pressed against his face, with his nose squeezed directly between her soft breasts. His hands found her hips, and he grabbed hold as the tickle overtook him.

“hhhchhfff! hh-isshhh! nnn… hhih- hii-hhssshhiuh! aeshhiu! … eh! … heh! … hehh-CHSSHT! CHSSHT! HISSHHHTT!”

What would have normally been a powerful and vocal fit was instead muffled and subdued as Noelle wrestled it into submission with the luscious mounds of her chest. Once Oraion’s sneezing subsided, she relented and loosened her death grip on his head, allowing him to at last come up for air. He looked up at her standing over him as he sat back, sniffling wetly. Her entire face was flushed a lovely bright scarlet—a color he was perhaps a bit partial to. His gaze dropped back to her blouse, where he found he’d made a rather wet spot between her breasts. He summoned an apologetic look as his gaze rose back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I… I couldn’t help it.”

To be fair, the books truly were dusty. It would have gotten to him at some point anyhow, so why not help it along and get it over with? Still, Oraion supposed he had earned the scolding he was no doubt about to receive.

It took him rather by surprise, then, when Noelle instead grabbed his chin and forced her tongue into his mouth. He was quick to adapt, of course, sucking on her tongue and chasing it with his own when she pulled it back. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her towards him until she was straddling his lap. She draped her arms over his shoulders and around his neck as she continued to kiss him hungrily, sucking on and biting his lips and tongue. The lust that burned within her intoxicated him and stoked his Hunger.

He supported her back with one hand while the other loosened the catch of her leather leggings and slipped inside. She was warm and wet and waiting for his touch, and she moaned into his mouth as he pushed two fingers inside her. The feel of her became his entirety: the way she enfolded his fingers, the slick sweetness of her tongue in his mouth, the building pleasure that flowed into him more and more.

Noelle brushed the tip of his nose with her own, sending a ticklish wave through his sinuses.

“C-careful -snf- it’s still pretty sensitive…”

“Oh dear,” she murmured as she nuzzled him again, “how terribly inconvenient.”

Even as his breath caught she kissed him. The buzzing prickle spread, making it hard to concentrate, but his fingers did not stop their rhythmic stroking.

“M-Mistress, I… I n-need to- heh-HEH!”

It wouldn’t take much to send either of them over the edge. Oraion could hardly keep his eyes open, and he felt more than saw Noelle’s fingertip gently tease his irritated nares.

“W-wait- Y-you’re guh-gonna m-make me- ih-hihh-HIHH!”

Her hand still behind his neck twined into his hair and shoved his face down into her cleavage.

“hiihh-CHHWFF!”

Once more his sneeze was muffled by the supple flesh of her breasts, and in that moment her pleasure poured into him like a river breaking through a dam. It washed over him in waves, and he let himself drown in it as her hips bucked over his lap. Her pleasure became his own, no telling where one ended and the other began. Each held onto the other for dear life, Noelle clutching Oraion to her chest as he hugged her to himself with his arm around her back.

As they both came down from their shared euphoria, Oraion realized he was biting Noelle’s breast through her shirt. He did not remember making the conscious decision to do so, but she didn't seem to mind. He let go and looked up at her. She was taking her hand out of her mouth—she had bitten the side of a forefinger to keep herself quiet in the stillness of the Librarium.

He kept his eyes on her face as he slowly pulled out of her. The sweet expression she made and the little sigh that escaped her were the perfect dessert to his delicious meal. She opened her soft brown eyes, her cheeks still flushed and rosy, and she leaned in to kiss him once more. He nipped at her lower lip with a sly grin.

“Still afraid we're going to get in trouble?”

“Yes, but now I care less.”

Her lips touched his even as she giggled, a sound that twisted her ever deeper into his heart. Falling for her was a terrible idea, he knew that, but moments like this, the happiness she gave him, made him powerless to resist her gravity. No one made him feel this way, not since his first love, so long past that it may as well have been in another world entirely.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching broke them from the hold of the afterglow, and Noelle hurried back into her own seat as she adjusted her clothing. She flipped open the pages of the book and leaned over them like she’d been studying them all along, though her face was still quite red. Oraion found his handkerchief had fallen on the floor at some point, and he quickly scooped it up and wiped off his fingers.

The hulking form of the Head Librarian strode into view, carrying a library cart in her hands. Oraion imagined her leaning over to push it normally, and he got a pretty good idea of why she preferred to carry it. She placed the cart down and filed away a few volumes on a nearby shelf. Oraion heard Noelle breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

"Everything all right over here? I thought I heard some sort of commotion, and you’re looking rather flushed, Miss."

“U-um.” Noelle’s voice came out in a terrified squeak, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

Thinking quickly, Oraion lifted his handkerchief to his nose as though he were wiping it, but instead he gave his nostrils a quick tease.

“S-sorry, it’s my fault, I- I- hih- ih-hihh! HIIHTCHHiuh!” He managed to muffle the sneeze by pressing the cloth firmly over his nose, which he hoped was a reasonable facsimile of how it had sounded into Noelle’s shirt. “Nguh -snnff- Sorry, my a-allergies are acting up, and- heh! heh-CHHFF! -snf- I’m afraid I’ve rather embarrassed her with the noise. -sdnf- This is a library, after all.”

The orcish librarian narrowed her eyes. “Hmph. Just keep it down, and do not disturb the other patrons, please.”

“I-I’ll do my best, ma’am… hhihghshh!”

Appearing satisfied, Ogtrop picked up her cart and moved on. Once the sound of her footsteps had faded, Oraion couldn’t help but laugh, smothering the sound behind a hand. Noelle playfully smacked his arm.

“I don’t see what’s so funny! We could have gotten into so much trouble!”

Though her words chastised him, a thread of laughter wove through her voice as well.

“You’re the one who jumped me!”

“Oh, and you didn’t stir up all that dust on purpose?”

“You know it would have happened sooner or later! Now, do you want to keep bickering and draw Ms Ogtrop’s attention again, or do you actually want to study these arcane tomes?”

“Fine, but this is not over!” She went back to the table of contents and found the page she had initially wanted to review. “Now, I believe we were going to talk about the use of conjuration before we were, ahem, interrupted. Weren’t you saying that you don’t actually use conjuration?”

Oraion grinned and placed his arm across the back of Noelle’s chair as they both leaned over the text. “Yes, that’s right. You see, conjuration is the art of creating something from nothing. Were that true, then the handkerchief wouldn’t exist before it appeared in my hand. I would literally be creating it from magic. What I do is a form of summoning…”

While Oraion continued his explanation, Ms Gwendolyn Ogtrop, Head Librarian of the Tigate Librarium, continued her work of filing away the book returns in Section D. She heaved a sigh and tried not to let her envy weigh too heavily on her mind. Men of that caliber were rare enough, but the fact that this one had adorable sneezes too? That human girl didn’t know what a treasure she had. Although, with how red her face was, perhaps she did…

Ogtrop tried to push it from her mind as she tucked another book away. Someday the perfect man for her would walk through that Librarium door. She would whisk him off his feet and into a whirlwind romance, instead of just another link in a lengthy chain of one night stands. Someday happily ever after would happen for her, too.

At least, she could hope.

#accidental mistress #oraion the allergic incubus #noelle the awkward witch #snz ocs #snzblr #snz #snz kink #sneeze kink #snzfic #sneeze fic #sneezefucker

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princessprettyprivilege · 2 years

Text

Script Your Desired Life -Part 1-

I was worried the post would be too long to read in 1 sitting, so I decided to publish it in parts because I miss my blog :(

Y’all. I love making subliminals, blockage removals and boosters for myself, but sometimes I want to dramatize and exaggerate my current life. I’m tired of wanting to drown myself out of my current life and watch other’s realities on shows or what they show online.

Now, I’m bored of *that* attitude. I always want to be in euphoria.

💎 Exaggerate, exaggerate, EXAGGERATE, your daily routine!

Before Dawn

If I wake up around and unable to fall back asleep, I’ll have a handful of organic blueberries and a shot of cold brew to wake myself up. I have an early morning class and falling back asleep will throw my schedule off.

In the Morning

Instead of “I wake up excitedly at 5AM,” it’s, “I step out of bed into my cutest house shoes with the sound of my waterfall white noise machine cascading me into a 5:00 morning. Vitamins? In my greens. I already have on under eye masks and a glass of whole starfruit juice for an energy boost. Am I in the mood for more fruit juice, iced coffee or cold brew? Cold brew, then decaf for the rest of the day.

“I am feeling the beneficial effects of coffee every millisecond”

I can’t wait to use my rich b— Breville with my homemade, toasted croissants covered in honey butter with my espresso accidentally tasting the same since I did dip it in. Does white chocolate espresso and honey butter croissants taste weird together to anyone else?

I’m going to have perfect marks when I go back to school. My commute is a breeze & my morning dragonfruit smoothies make the experience even better.

It’s not the writing that should be exaggerated as a point, that’s only being more descriptive. Play a sparkling noise as you wash your face, study, anything! You’re the character you dreamed of.

⚠️ Be ready, this will feel out of body ⚠️

When I feel out of body, I have unlimited amounts of energy, confidence and clarity.

Exaggerate your morning by applying the perfect lacquer you have on your nightstand to stand up tall, a continental breakfast in bed, pulling out your perfume and makeup book to layer your scents. Sheesh, buy an electric kettle for early morning tea.

For dreary days, script a contingency plan such as drinking hot cinnamon tea or mango boba, applying siren makeup with sparkly blues & greens, leaving early to where you need to be, bubble wrapping your personal coffee/tea cup to be used in public. For example, “Rain never showers the same. I look out of my window in wonder with my favorite rain shoes on and how easy my trip will be, but enough daydreaming.

💍💍 Allow yourself to be inspired by parts of your personal favorites that scare you.

What is my favorite color(s)? Wellll, society is telling me my favorite color is pink because periwinkle is unusual for a woman like me. No ma’am???

For example’s sake, I drive a Ford Fusion. Not anymore. I drive a Tesla Model Y to university.

💎💎💎 Now, EXAGGERATE your habits & favorites. Ask yourself why you are really afraid of expressing yourself to the fullest. Is it because you’re worried about how you’ll be perceived in other’s conscious minds? Is the attention you’ll garner frightening?? Or exciting?

You love perfumes? Try ouds with other fragrance mediums to layer your scents like a plush throw on a mattress.

Separate your perfumes by sexiness, sweetness and mellowness.

I love getting my lashes done. Go above and beyond your usual options such as classic, hybrid and volume for styles such as cat eye, glamorous, *more/less fans*, a dollop of color, dramatic bottom lashes or lash lifts with bottom lashes.

I craft inspire lists. These are items I buy at 1 time as a routine shopping day. Wishlists and dream items are banned from my vocabulary.

✨✨✨✨ Play your unconscious conscious’ mind games. You know what you really want. Your unconscious conscious’ mind’s world is your fantasy land. Unshackle yourself from self limitations of not being good enough or less disciplined to complete your goals due to your upbringing.

If you lay in bed hours after you’ve woken up, questioning why you won’t get up when you have the energy to get out of bed, write in your script, “I am making omniscient decisions about my life at the speed of the multiverse,” with, “I have unlimited energy and storage for processing ideas for my life [at the speed of the multiverse],”

If you have to ask yourself if you're 110% in control of your life, you haven’t forced your free will entirely.

Go speak your entire mind when your reputation is questioned in front of others.

Be Luxury, Live Luxury.

#princesskhalyiah #high maintenance #femininity #expensive taste #high standards

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twilightmalachite · 9 months

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Raison d’être - A Premature Burial 8

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Kiryu. Come to think of it, we’ve known each other for a long time now, but I’ve never truly hit you before, haven’t I?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Starmony Dorms Theater Room

Night of that day, in the Starmony Dorms Theater Room…

Kuro: Hmm. I might not fully understand, but it sure sounds complicated.

So you’re watchin’ funeral scenes in movies for visual references for this Funeral Contest?

Haha, you’re surprisin’ly hardworkin’ over this. ♪

Shu: You sure are in a good mood for whatever reason, Kiryu. It’s rare to see you so relaxed without a single wrinkle between the eyebrows… Did something good happen to you?

Kuro: Ahh, y’see, Itsuki… I feel like I’m able t’relate to ya for the first time.

They’re surprisin’ly nice, aren’t they? A frilly and fluttery cute outfit…

Shu: What on earth happened to you, Kiryu!?

Nazuna: Itsuki~… Kuro-chin is so cruel~, I even said I didn’t want to do it…

H-He forced me to wear children’s girl’s clothes and took picture after picture of me…

Shu: Kiryu. Come to think of it, we’ve known each other for a long time now, but I’ve never truly hit you before, haven’t I?

I do not think I can beat you, who knows karate, but as a gentleman, I challenge you to a duel. Kagehira, you stay here with Nito.

Mika: Nnaah…?

Nazuna: Well, I’m happy you’re angry on my behalf, but didn’t you used to do the same thing too?

Anyways, it’s fine. I’m not angry anymore, or rather, I feel like I was able to be useful to Kuro-chin out for the first time, so I’m happy about that.

Rather, Kuro-chin accepted me however I am. Back when I had been pretending to be a doll, and all this time up to now too.

It’d be unfair if I were picky and say that I only approved of the rough and reliable Kuro-chin he usually is.

Kuro: Nito…♪

Shu: Even so, I think it’d be better if you refuse what you don’t want to do, Nito.

Nazuna: That’s true, but… I’m the one saying it’s fine, so don’t fight about it on your own~. It’ll complicate things.

You have your hands full anyways, don’t you? You don’t have the time to bother yourself over us.

Mika: That’s true, but I don’t have a good understandin’ the circumstances either.

Kuro: So what are the circumstances, then… I feel like I’ve gone too far and lost Nito’s trust here, so I’d like to redeem myself.

I’m no stranger to Itsuki, and I don’t mind workin’ together to help out Nito’s old group.

Shu: I didn’t ask for your help. I am not in so much trouble that I would ask for your help, truthfully.

Kuro: Don’t say that. If three people gather, the wisdom of Manjushri, the more there is the merrier, no?

Shu: Hmph. Despite your inability to study, you seem to be able to come up with Buddhist idioms without any trouble. Just whose influence is that?

Anyways. We are planning to hold a Funeral Contest in accordance to our Grandfather’s impossible task.

Kuro: Hmmm. My mother quietly had hers amongst relatives. The rich sure like their flashy things, don’t they?

Shu: Right… It was restricted to relatives, so I regret that I was unable to burn incense for her on that day.

Your mother had done so much for me, yet I’m afraid I’d acted unfairly at the very end.

Kuro: Haha. You know best that my mother wasn’t the type to care about such things… Itsuki.

Shu: … …

Kuro: …My bad, I ruined the atmosphere.

Shu: No, the atmosphere should have been solemn from the beginning, that is… what a funeral should be like.

My grandfather is the strange one making a festival out of it.

Kuro: He’s been a strange old gramps for a while now.

But still, from what I do know ‘bout him, I know your gramps was a great guy. He was a real fine, respectable man.

Back when I was jus’ a stupid kid, if I went and did somethin’ I shouldn’t have, even though we weren’t related, he’d scold me ‘til the sun went down.

I’d even start sheddin’ tears…I can still hear your grandpa yellin’ at me every time every time I’m ‘boutta stray off the beaten path.

Shu: I agree… He’s gotten more irritable with age, but he truly was a great and respectful grandfather who would never do anything inhumane.

And yet… We have discovered this grandfather to have had an illegitimate child.

Thanks to that, my household is in commotion as if the entire world turned upside down!

Nazuna: I don’t mean to be impolite, but… Isn’t it a bit unbelievable to have an illegitimate child be discovered while the estate is sorting out inheritances? It’s straight out of a drama.

Kuro: Is it really true? Nobody’s makin’ this up? Or, y’know, just one of your gramp’s jokes?

Shu: As of right now, we don’t know its validity.

After saying what he had wanted and causing such a ruckus, Grandfather withdrew back to the hospital with no visitors allowed.

I cannot approach the man himself for confirmation. A hospital is a curious little world, where a doctor’s opinion takes precedence over the family’s.

If the doctor orders no visits, even one’s own family members cannot enter the forbidden cave.

Mika: Guess that’s a given… But it’s really such a suspicious situation, truly.

Up ‘til now, there hadn’t even been a rumor that he had an illegitimate child.

Shu: Yes. Grandfather is well-known both at home and overseas as having a loving wife, and it was “common sense” that the only woman he’s ever loved in his lifetime was my grandmother, who passed away some time ago.

There is simply no way he has an illegitimate child.

Nazuna: And this… Rafayello, claims to be this illegitimate child? That was his name, right?

Kuro: Who in the hell is this guy? Judgin’ by his name, he some foreigner?

Shu: I am assuming it is a fake name. He said that he is hiding his true identity for some unspecified reason, it’s immensely suspicious.

My parents and the rest are currently visiting a government office to confirm the truth, but… His identity remains unknown.

Mika: He gave a quick greetin’ while we were in the guest room in Oshi-san’s house, but he went quiet after that.

Kuro: Ya said he was speakin’ to ya through a doll that looked just like Mademoiselle…

We dunno where the doll came from, but ya think he installed some communication device in there?

Shu: That seems to be the case. Although I have not checked its contents, I do not wish to take apart such a beautiful doll.

If it comes down to it, we may need to ask someone mechanically-inclined to conduct a scientific analysis… But, we are not in a dire enough situation for that yet..

Kuro: Well, right now this all feels like some big joke. This whole thing, includin’ Raffaello, feels like a setup by Grandpa..

Shu: And so if it is, it would be foolish to contact the police about it in earnest..

Making a big deal out of it would be tasteless, as it would publicize and bring shame to the family.

Goodness gracious. It’s a hundred times better than having really passed away, but this Grandfather of ours sure is in trouble too!.

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

#raison d’être #raison d'etre #event #translation #shu itsuki #mika kagehira #kuro kiryu #nazuna nito

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miracledemyaa · 2 years

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How to Prepare for Fall Semester : Academics

Hi angels! Welcome back to my blog. Now that we have entered the month of August, I’ve decided to give some tips on preparing for the new school year. I decided to break this post into two parts: academics and lifestyle! I hope this will be helpful to you all! With that being said, let’s jump right in!

♡ reflect ♡

- I highly recommend reflecting on the last semester before the start of classes. Not only does it help with goal setting, but it could aid in earning higher marks, thus boosting your gpa if done the right way. For this exercise, you’ll need something to take notes on. Here’s a general idea of questions you can ask yourself:

☆ What was the outcome of the previous school year/semester? Am I satisfied?

☆ What study habits/resources were most effective/helpful?

☆ What were my eating/sleeping habits like during the semester?

☆ How often did I miss deadlines?

☆ What could I have done differently?

You get the idea, right? Try to answer these questions in as much detail as possible. Don’t be afraid to hurt your feelings a bit as well. It’s better to realize you weren’t living up to your full potential and grow from it, rather than being unaware of what you could be doing better.

♡ set goals ♡

- Now that you have a general idea of what you could improve, you can start setting small, realistic goals. For example, if you know you didn’t study as much as you should have, don’t pressure yourself to study for like, five hours straight everyday. That will lead to feelings of defeat and frustration. Instead, set a goal to review your notes after class for at at least 5 minutes, or study a subject in 30 minute intervals with breaks in between.

♡ get organized ♡

One of the mottos I live by is “stay ready so you won’t have to get ready”. I like to get organized before the semester starts, so I’m not struggling during syllabus week. You can get organized by:

☆ Buying a planner/setting up your notion page.

- About a month before the new semester, I like to go planner shopping and customize my new notion page. I like to do this in advance, so all I have to do when school starts is plug in my exam days and assignment due dates during syllabus week. The notion template I use is linked here.

☆ Color coding your notebooks

- Okay, okay. This may be a bit intense, but hear me out. Although I’m a paperless student, I can’t stand having the same notebook covers for all five of my classes. If you’re anything like me, I highly recommend buying (or downloading) different colored/patterned notebooks for your classes and strictly using one notebook for each class (i.e have five separate notebooks if you are taking five classes.) That way, your math notes won’t be mixed in with your biology notes and vice versa.

☆ Deep cleaning

- Delete any old files, PowerPoints, or assignment pdfs you don’t need anymore to clear up space on your computer——especially if you took summer classes. Also, deep clean your room, your desk, your backpack, and toss out any old papers and notebooks you don’t need anymore. Clean space = clear mind = better focus.

♡ school supply shopping ♡

- Last but not least, go school supply shopping! It’s best to go early in my opinion, because all the cute supplies are still available hehe. Go crazy! Buy your cute highlighters, notebooks, pens, and even treat yourself to a cute new bag for the year! Your local Ross or TjMaxx will have cute brand names at an affordable price! You could also find cute pens and notebooks here as well.

I hope you all enjoyed this post and found these tips helpful! I’m praying that each and every one of you will accomplish your academic goals and have a successful semester! Stay tuned for my next post. Ily!

#studyspo #studyblr #my post #study motivation #light academia #pink academia #level up #academia #uni #grades #academic success

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mighwnt · 2 years

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13fidelis -> mighwnt

i’m fidelis, the dykiest catboygirl you’ll ever meet!!

20 yrs, bisexual genderflux polyam butch, they/he/she/pika/mew + more

i’m autistic + ocd + physically disabled. also i’m an artist and i study graphic design. i’m also a mod for @mcyt-transcribed and @transcriptions !!

i mostly like sugar pine 7, mcyt + streamers, args, internet/fandom history, warrior cats, our flag means death, ace attorney, lost media, among us, law and order: svu and mothership, and pokemon. i need you to understand that i havent read homestuck i just think the fanart is cool. i dont know what vriska did and im too afraid to ask.

minors please block the tag #nsft 👍

if i add an image/video description or a transcription to your post, please go ahead and add it to the original post, no need to ask!

here’s my carrd, i’d appreciate if u read it before u followed <3 tl;dr: i love mspec gays/lesbians, i love fagdykes and dykefags, i love ppl whose identity doesnt make sense. i block people all the time for stupid shit and that’s based of me. i’m a bisexual butch dyke and i won’t change how i describe myself for u. also i don’t like dream, he’s gross.

more cool things below the cut vv

mutuals, i’d appreciate if you could tag dear e/van hans/en for me, it makes me very uncomfortable. anything to do with it, or "fid dni” works for me

sideblogs:

@fidelisart: art-only blog!! i rb all my art on there

@genderselkies: for genders + other gay shit. cant believe the url was open

@enby-stan: for south park fanart reblogging. keeping it to a sideblog bc it (rightly) makes some ppl uncomfy. i have nostalgia and problems though. so.

@caelum-comfort: writing prompt storage, mainly whump/hurt/comfort stuff. rarely used.

@splashhheart: warrior cat design blog. hasnt been updated in like a year. whoops.

i tag very thoroughly. i need my organization. that said, if u need me to tag smth, send me an ask! i tag triggers as the word itself. i dont tag slurs anymore though, just block the word. uhh also i post high sometimes. tagged as weedposting. just block the tag if that makes u uncomfortable.

check out my neocities site, i work very hard on it.

now for the fun stuff:

#pinned post #tags:#my art #txt #my edits #my clips #fav #ult fav #save #watch later #read later #last updated: 11/6/22 #flashing gif

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dirty-bosmer · 1 year

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Me again lol. don't know why I asked the last q on anon. I just made a new blog for fandom stuff and am self conscious cause I don't have much on it. Didn't want you thinking I was a bot! Anywho, I've calmed down and actually have another question re: fic writing. I'm considering writing an Oblivion fic (thank you SO MUCH for the insp, fell in love with fic again while reading yours) and am wondering : What was your inspiration for Lucien and his relationship with Nim? It's so deliciously twisted, and I have only read one other fic that braves the territory you do (have you read Love and Blood on FF? also themes of obsession and the author's Lucien is VILE). Kinda rare to see a story that's not afraid of making him actually villainous, wicked, and believably the murderous lunatic he is in game (I dont want prince charming anymore!!!) I mean hear me out, the fanon is fun too and I got a kick out of it for years, but it's SO refreshing to read something beyond another iteration of the smooth, suave, reticent but romantic characterization in dozens of Lucien/Silencer fics.

Got any book recs for characters or relationships like the ones you write about? (hope this okay. I'm srsly just so excited rn like u kno the feeling when you finally get a fic that does it the way you see in your head and are like YES THAT LET ME CONSUME IT anywho here i'm rambling again good day)

My kind of people lmao. First of all, goodness, thank you again! I don’t know what I’m going to do with all these compliments besides become a puddle on the floor.

That is seriously so sweet of you (despite the morbid nature of the content you are complimenting). And yeah, look, it's a story about two murderers and their descent into madness. The companionship forged between them is obviously not going to be pretty, heh. For a long while, however, I was worried no one would like it cause I gleaned that fanon Lucien is a little more... tame? Or he’s sexy XD Anyway, I've had people comment on how much of a sicko edgelord he is in the fic (both positively and negatively lol). I really appreciate that you love what I’ve done with him but just want to say there is no right or wrong way to do it! There’s stuff out there for everyone’s taste, and I am not and never will write with the intention of making the story palatable to everyone. I decided to give it my all writing him menacing and icky and pyscho cause that’s what intrigued me,. I'm happy with it! And I am Infinitely more happy that you like it too 🥰

And yeah, it makes me feel weird to say aloud that I love all that dark, twisted stuff in fiction, but the heart wants what it wants 🤷‍♀️ I just love a “romance” story that's not actually a romance at all but rather a work of horror— an exploration of the dark recesses of the human psyche that breed obsession and the all-consuming need to devour. I got a healthy, fulfilling relationship irl. I want my fictional characters to squirm a bit, and damn but I want to be equally uncomfortable when I indulge, ya know??

Gonna put the rest under a cut here:

As for inspiration regarding the relationship/Lucien, this is gonna sound so weird lol but Griffith and Guts from Berserk, Hannibal the TV show, the band Deftones (hit me up for song recs). Some creepy uncomfy books that explore similar dark themes: Damage by Justine Hart, The Vegetarian by Han Kang, Lolita by Vladimir Nabakov, You by Caroline Kepnes, Boy Parts by Eliza Clark. Also soooo many movies. There are too many to name (hit me up again hehe).

For Lucien, p much anytime I read/watch a character being a sick little freak I take note of it (see above). I’ve also listened to Dr. Ramani Durvasula’s podcasts about narcissism (she is a doctor of psychology and a leading expert in the field who was studying narcissism loooong before it became a commonly known personality trait). It really helped me understand the human capacity for manipulation and cruelty, how someone can go through life working to get what they want while only being capable of loving themselves.

Oh, and you know, I looked it up and think I started Love or Blood a really long time ago but haven’t read any fic on FF in years cause the site is p much unusable to me. Was it about Janus Hassildor? I don’t think I ever got to the Lucien bits. Maybe I’ll pick it up again. I’ve read so many Lucien fics, I can surely read another, and if it’s similar tropes, I’ll probably enjoy it.

While I have your attention, I would be remiss to not mention some other DB/Lucien fics that I enjoy. Next of Kin features a younger Lucien, and he and Tal (the MC) are delightful and dirty and so real. They have a great dynamic. The relationship feels earned. Also Lucien is believably a career assassin and rotten at the core while also retaining his humanity and the capacity for tenderness. I’m picky with romance in general. I can't do heavy handedness and often times I find the characterization of a loving Lucien kind of contrived or saccharine or just not for me (and that’s okay! It wasn’t written for me. We all have our preferences and mine do not skew tender D:), but this is flawlessly executed, lemme tell you. The writing is PHENOMENAL. Truly some of the best I’ve read among fic. I’ve raved about it on my blog, as it’s quite rare to find a story that balances its themes as well as this does. Also Fortune’s Favorite is very dear to me. It features another monstrous Lucien who is undeniably gross and predatory. He’s not the main focus, but the story is otherwise full of angst and sadness. So too light and love and oof, I got misty eyed at several parts. There are multiple relationships in this fic, each of them juicy, but Lucien’s relationship with the MC is a horrific descent, quite a disaster (in the best of ways) and truly so entertaining to read.

So yeah that was... a lot lol. Hope it helps. Also please tag me in anything you write! I get so excited to see new Oblivion fics and would love to talk shop and writing. It’s how we learn knew things and improve :))

#asks #The Illusionist #Lucien Lachance #Lucien/Nim #fanfic recs

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flightlessangelwings · 8 months

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Ktober 2023 Day 15- Against a Wall

Bucky Barnes x fem!curvy!reader

Word count- 2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), reader wears a skirt and works as a waitress for Tony, described with curves but it's briefly mentioned, mutual pining, protective!Bucky, no use of y/n

Notes- I actually kept changing my mind on who to write this prompt with but I landed on Bucky lol. And the setting here is reminiscent of 2012 mcu tumblr where Bucky joined the avengers and they're all friends. And I purposefully had a curvy/plus sized reader in mine for this prompt to show some love! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

Over the years of working for Tony Stark, you had seen more than your fair share of exciting things. Serving cocktails at his parties meant you had a front row seat to events that usually got splashed across headlines the following morning. Rich people flirted with you all the time, and you flirted back to get extra tips. Plus, you actually became friends with Tony over time, possibly the thing you had least expected. Even as his list of friends and party attendees grew to include otherworldly and superhuman guests.

Overall, you were able to keep your cool, even when meeting big names like Steve Rogers. He was kind and courteous, and handsome of course, but he wasn’t your type. No, your breath wasn’t taken away until his old friend, Bucky Barnes came along. Bucky was everything you had dreamed of, and when you laid eyes on him for the first time, it was as if he stepped out of your fantasy.

“Your drink, sir,” you fought to keep your composure as you handed him a glass.

“Thank you,” his low voice went right to your core as he smiled softly at you.

Bucky wasn’t much for words, but his eyes bore into you, studying your curves as if he could see into your soul. Part of you craved it, but the other part was worried he could read all your secrets, especially the one that you harbored feelings for him. He seemed to grow more and more comfortable as time went on, though, and he started to integrate more into the group. All the other guests did so too, and the more he was around, the less afraid of him they were.

Not you, though. You were never afraid of him. And it wasn’t just from your attraction to Bucky. No, there was something there that you knew you could trust. Something in him that read that he was a good person, a kind person. And though you had never exchanged more than a few words with him, sometimes you felt your gaze linger on him longer than it needed to.

Bucky noticed of course, and sometimes your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away in embarrassment. You went back to your tasks until you felt you could safely glance back over once more. This dance went on every time Tony had a party, yet everything remained in the air, unspoken, only flirting for a couple seconds with your eyes. What you didn’t know, though, was Bucky’s gaze lingered on you for just as long, if not longer. And a feeling of jealousy built up in his gut whenever he saw others flirt with you.

One night, though, Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He watched as you served drinks, your skirt running high up your thigh, exposing your flesh more and driving him wild. He wasn’t the only one watching, however, and a man he had never seen before stumbled over to you, draping his arm over you. When you obviously didn’t want him there, Bucky made his move.

“Please do not touch me, sir,” you said sternly but politely, trying to diffuse the situation without making a scene.

“Oh come on sweet girl,” he slurred, “Let me take you home.”

When he tried to lean in closer, the man found himself yanked off of you and instead in the grip of Bucky Banres.

“The lady said no,” Bucky’s tone was firm and low.

All the fight left the man’s eyes as he cowered, “I’m sorry,” he stammered before he wriggled free and ran off.

Bucky watched to make sure he was gone before he turned to you, “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice noticeably softer.

“Y-yeah,” your eyes went wide as you processed what just happened. Bucky Barnes just saved you, and he seemed genuinely concerned about you, “Thank you,” you added in a whisper.

Bucky brushed the back of his hand across your cheek in an affectionate gesture, “Can’t let my favorite waitress get into trouble now, can I?”

Heat rose in your face as the room spun. Was Bucky actually flirting with you? Part of you wanted to pinch yourself in case you were dreaming, but you also didn’t want to wake up if you were. “I’m your favorite waitress?” you asked slyly as you subtly shimmied your shoulders.

He cupped your chin to make you meet his eyes, “Who else would be?”

Time stopped as you met his gaze. It was different looking into his eyes up close, like you could swim in them. And you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips for the briefest moment.

Bucky took that as his invitation, “You wanna get out of here?” he asked in a low tone.

You bit your lip, “I can’t leave the party,” you paused, hating the look of disappointment on his face, “But,” you slipped your hand into his, “I have an idea. Follow me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky eagerly followed as you led him out of the main room and down a hallway. He couldn’t help but glance at your ass as you walked just in front of him. But, his breath hitched in his throat when you came to a small hall closet and quickly ushered him inside, not wanting anyone else to see.

“It’s not romantic or anything,” you sounded sheepish suddenly as you closed and locked the door, “But it’ll have to do.”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky said as he put his hands on your hips, his lips hovering over yours, “You’re dressed like this, we’re sneaking away from a party, we’re alone… I’m with you,” he exhaled sharply, “This is plenty romantic.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but it was cut off when Bucky placed his lips over yours in a soft kiss. You moaned into him as your eyes fluttered shut and you held onto his shoulders as you parted your lips for him. You felt a low rumble in his chest as he took the invitation and deepened the kiss, tasting you for the first time.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he mumbled between kisses, “You’re… Incredible,” Bucky murmured as he kissed you again, backing you up against the wall.

He swallowed the moan you let out as your back hit the wall, and you clung to him for support. Bucky gladly gave it to you, pressing his body against yours to keep you pinned there. His knee parted your legs slightly so that he could press it against your pussy, and you let out a whimper at the contact.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“My thoughts exactly,” Bucky breathed as his hands dipped below your skirt. He paused, though, and looked back up into your eyes, “Is this ok?” he asked.

“Shit, Bucky, don’t stop now,” you huffed, “Please.”

“Fuck, I love when you say my name,” Bucky groaned as he kisse you again and tugged at your skirt, pushing it up to expose your panties.

“Bucky…” you moaned again as you clung to his shoulders.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Yes,” your reply was immediate and your tone was more serious.

Suddenly, you found yourself in the air; Bucky grabbed onto your ass and used his super strength to lift you up and pin you against the wall. You squealed, more in surprise than anything, but let out a moan when you felt his clothed cock against your pussy.

“Please, Bucky,” you begged.

He grunted as he leaned his bodyweight forward, keeping you against the wall as he fumbled to free his cock with one hand. As much as Bucky wanted to take his time with you, he was too desperate right now. And so were you. With hope, Buck would have another chance with you, and that time he would treat you the way he wanted to. He would spend hours between your legs until you told him to stop. He would kiss you all over, worshiping your beautiful body, and feeling every dip and curve of you.

But right now, fucking you against the wall in a close would have to do. Not that either of you were complaining.

You whimpered when you glanced down and saw Bucky’s thick cock pop out against his suit. You panted as you anticipated it filling you, and you had never been more turned on in your life. Bucky murmured your name to get your attention, and the look in his eyes sent another pulse right to your cunt.

“I’m ready,” you answered the unspoken question, “Please, Buck.”

“Fuck,” he growled as he hooked a finger on your panties and pushed them aside, “Hold onto me, alright? I’ve got you.”

A loud hiss escaped your lips as he slowly pushed into you. You bit your lip to try and hold back your moans, but his cock felt so good as it entered you and you couldn’t help but cry out. Bucky groaned as he felt your warmth engulf him, and he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you.

“You ok?” he asked when he heard you whine.

“Yes,” you breathed, “Fuck me, Bucky… Please,” you tugged at his shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Bucky growled your name as he reeled back and thrust forward again. Both of you gasped at the action, and from there Bucky lost all control. He rocked into you over and over again as you hung helplessly against the wall. Moans and groans from both of you filled the tiny space as Bucky thrust into you at the perfect angle.

“Shit,” you cried out as you slammed your head back against the wall.

“Feel so good… Sweetheart,” Bucky grunted as the room started to spin for him as well.

“Bucky…”

“I know… I’ve got you.”

He pounded into you with fervor, with desperate need as you screamed even louder. He rested his forehead against yours, feeling your breath on his face with every moan you let out. Bucky already craved more of you; he wanted to always feel you around him and in his arms. He tightened his grip on you as his thrusts became more erratic as his own climax quickly approached.

“Bucky… I’m…”

All he could do was groan your name and close his eyes. Your orgasms hit simultaneously, one right after the other. You trembled in Bucky’s arms as you came hard, and Bucky fought to keep himself upright as he spilled himself deep inside you. As he thrust into you, riding out your climaxes, Bucky took your lips with his once more in a deep and passionate kiss.

Sweat lined your brow and the sensations overwhelmed you, but you felt safe in Bucky's arms. As you started to come down from your high, you broke away for a deep breath, and you gasped as you felt yourself go more limp in his arms. Bucky immediately snapped to attention, and gently lowered you down, pulling out of you in the process.

You whimpered at the loss, but Bucky never let go of his grip on you, even as he settled you back on your feet. Your eyes trailed up from the ground as you met his gaze, and your heart skipped a beat from the way he looked at you.

“That was… Wow,” you whispered as you composed yourself and fixed your skirt, “Better than I ever imagined,” you muttered under your breath.

Bucky tucked himself back in his pants and straightened out his jacket, “So,” he smirked, “You imagined me?”

You looked at him wide-eyed, “I- I didn’t mean…”

“It’s ok sweetheart,” he cupped your face, “Can you keep a secret?” when you nodded he continued, “I imagined you too.”

You exhaled deeply as you leaned into his touch. You allowed him to slowly pull your face to his and parted your lips as Bucky kissed you once more. This kiss was slow, yet deep, and it helped all the unspoken emotions you both felt. When you broke away you let out another deep breath, “Tony is going to have a field day with this,” you said with a laugh.

“I’m by your side,” Bucky reassured you after joining your laughter, “Shall we?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded, “Let’s go,” you slid your hand in his and opened the door to your futures.

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buangkok · 7 months

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13/11/23

When I say that ***** ruined my life, I mean it. Let’s unpack that though. There seems to be a refusal to take accountability for my actions. I can also argue that he didn’t take accountability for his. I can say that he didn’t step up and apologize appropriately, but I can also say that I didn’t give him the space to do so. That relationship changed my life. I’m still left with so many scars. I’m always looking over my shoulder, wondering if he’s out to get me. Maybe I need to grow up. I know it’s been years, but I’m still hurt by what he did and said. I need to start acting like an adult, though. I find myself constantly blaming him for what my life is like now. Sure, he had a part to play in how things turned out. I am the main arbiter of my life, though. I have more agency than I think I have. I get to decide how my life should turn out.

That’s the thing, you see. I can end relationships with people and still hold on to unanswered pleas. Like the whole *** gang, for example. I know shit went south last year. I still invited them over to my house earlier this year, and they still came over. I feel like I’ve extended my hand, only for those efforts to be unreciprocated. I don’t even know where I stand with my friends now. I know some people will always have my back, but I don’t see them often. It’s lonely. I’m lonely.

I know I have a wonderful boyfriend, but having friends is a different story altogether. I understand that I have trust issues with people, and I’m trying to get over them. I don’t know how, though. I think it all started in secondary school when I had a friend who turned on me for no reason. She was a close friend, but one day she decided not to be friends anymore. Of course, I’ve let go of that friendship (it’s been years) - it’s just me acknowledging where my trust issues come from.

I don’t know social cues, and I feel like an alien most of the time. I don’t know who to talk to, or what to do sometimes. It’s like…I know I’m surrounded by lovely people but I’m also afraid of reaching out. I guess I’m scared. I’m scared of losing more people. I think this fear of losing someone comes from losing ***** as a friend. I don’t think about her anymore, but sometimes I do get dreams about us still being friends. Even as I’m typing this now, it still hurts a bit. Just a bit.

I get so emotionally attached to people. I do. It scares me. You can’t love someone without a little pain. There is a possibility of losing anyone as a friend. Friendships are fleeting. Anyone can choose to give up and walk out at any time.

Maybe I shouldn’t blame myself. For everything I’ve said in this blog post. I shouldn’t blame anyone. I need to break out of the frame of thinking where I’m constantly pushing the blame onto someone. The blame can just be floating in the air. Nobody needs to take the blame. The blame doesn’t have to be put on anyone. I learn and I grow. It’s fine. My therapist says that I might be acoustic, so there’s that.

On another note, I haven’t been keeping up with my church community. I want to give Christianity a shot, but I haven’t been putting in the effort. I haven’t been going to bible study or even going to church. I want to, though. Ugh, this is just. I know that I’m easily influenced by the friends I keep, and this is a problem. Especially because I’m trying to be a good Christian while having friends who don’t believe in Christ. My life was at its peak this year when I was at church camp. I think that church camp this year was the closest I’ve ever been to God.

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theredheadwhoblogs · 1 year

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Life Update: How things are going

Hey guys, it’s been a while since I’ve last posted.

Since University has finished nearly a year ago, I’ve been sort of struggling to find work placements or *at least* find commissions for my work practice. Like, I’ve been wanting to be a freelance children’s illustrator for the whole majority of my degree; but for some reason I’ve always been afraid to just get my foot in the door, as in getting my work out there. For anyone reading this and am close to finishing your degree, this is what you will face in the ‘aftermath’... and it’s honestly soul destroying.

Because of this, I can announce that the dream of becoming a children’s book illustrator will be put on hold for now. I feel like I need a lot more time to rethink my future. Saying this makes me feel really miserable but I feel like I’m not ready for this step just yet.

I have been doing things though: From November 2022 to March 2023 I have been volunteering a few hours a week at Oxfam, where I helped put out donations and also improved my confidence in interacting with the general public. I was even asked to do an a-board design for the shop’s xmas campaign, which was pretty cool. Sadly it was just a mock project but I still had fun though. I have also been designing a couple of colouring sheets for cafes; one recent one was for the Easter hols.

I have also been going to the cinema more, and have been enjoying things I once put off due to my studying. Think of it as self care, which was VERY much needed right now. However, I really feel like travelling somewhere new; just to get a ‘fresh start’.

In all honesty, the real reason why I wanted to do a post today was that I’ve been losing interest in art but I still love being creative. And moreorless I love writing about things I have enjoyed recently. I have been toying with the idea of blogging again; and also interpreting my sketchbook work (or ‘doodles’) with it as well. Not too sure as of how to play this out, but I am generally interested in doing my art as a hobby, rather than something that is of great income (£££). Maybe I’m just putting too much pressure on myself??

To conclude, I am sorry for being all miserable and depressing. But the truth is that this is what this is like now. I’m not at University anymore: this is reality.

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

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rescue my heart

Pairing: Professor Pedro Pascal x Student Fem! Reader (Vampire/Vampire Hunter AU)

Warnings: Some elements of horror. Lots of yearning. Some form of a blood kink so look away if that’s not your cup of tea. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong people).

Words: 9250

Summary: Loosely based on this edit.

A/N: For @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape Writer Wednesday. This came out of nowhere and as irritated as I am that I wrote this in the span of a few hours yesterday and today but can’t seem to finish the million wips I have written down, I’m glad that I at least wrote something. I really hope you guys enjoy this self-indulgent fic. Let me know how I’m doing in the comments please and thank you. This isn’t beta’d...apologies for any mistakes.

The falling leaves and forceful winds rage against the small library window lighting your study area and you sigh when your focus breaks for god knows what time that day. It was getting more difficult by the second to pay attention to anything that you are reading, and when you realize that you’ve been looking at the same page for the past thirty minutes, you push your notebook and laptop away from you before throwing your head back to stretch your neck. The loud creaking sound of a chair being dragged through the floor catches your attention and you furrow your eyebrows when you turn around and see an empty room behind you.

Not wanting to test your luck, you quickly fish for the mace and swiss army knife your friend bought you when you decided to move off-campus. As you shove your phone into your back pocket, you slowly make your way through the library shelves, hoping that the noise belonged to a student dragging their chair and nothing else. When you make it to the end of the hallway and notice something pass by through the small glass of one of the doors, you take your phone out and prepare to dial the emergency number in case you see something out of the ordinary.

Pushing the door ajar a few inches, you don’t notice anything immediately and decide to walk in. A part of you is telling you to take your stuff and run away but the other less-worried part of your brain tells you that someone might need your help and you would want to be saved in case you were in their shoes. So busy looking around the room to make sure that nothing was out of the ordinary, you don’t see the two figures choking each other in the corner until a bookcase comes crashing not two feet away from you.

You jump and run to the other end of the room, prepared to push the button on your phone but going completely still when you immediately recognize who one of the figures was.

“P-professor Pascal?” You whisper more to yourself than to the man himself but he notices and stops what he’s doing.

Your heart is ready to leap out of your chest and it feels as if the world has suddenly stopped when a pair of golden eyes meet your gaze, ones that you continued to adore even though they weren’t the soft shade of brown you were so used to. You’re afraid to breathe and there’s a question on the tip of your tongue that fails to escape when the snarling and growling sound of the other bloodied man breaks the silence of the room.

“Don’t move,” your eyes shift back to the man you thought you knew and you nod almost unintentionally before you grip the knife tighter. It’s a horrifying scene and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it as it unfolds right in front of your eyes but with every punch and little bone crack that fills the small room, you can’t help but flinch and try to step closer into the corner of the wall.

You shut your eyes to get a grip on yourself and when they flutter open and drag towards the center of the room, you’re not sure what to believe anymore. There on the floor was a strange face staring up at Professor Pascal in anger and irritation, a face that didn’t belong to a human. You have only a handful of seconds to look upon him before Pedro begins to unbuckle his belt and grasp it in between his reddened palms. He turns to look at you and you think you notice an apologetic expression staring back at you but you can’t dwell too much on it because, in the blink of an eye, he’s kneeling down and quickly wrapping the belt around the other man’s throat.

You want to scream out and ask him to not continue but something tells you that he must have a reason for what he’s doing. There’s nothing left more to do as you look upon one of the kindest men you’ve ever met in your life as he chokes the life out of the stranger. It’s the most unbearable moment to witness and just when you think it’s over, Pedro brings out a thick wooden stake from his back pocket and looks up at you just as he brings it down harshly into his assailant’s chest and digs it deep into his heart. You are sure you will never forget the sound of desperate gasps as they try to ask you for aid and you let out a sigh of relief when he stops moving altogether.

Pedro lets go of the man and loops his belt around his dress pants, his eyes never once breaking contact with your own as he rights himself so he could look as presentable as possible. You say nothing as he takes out his phone and makes a quick phone call. It’s difficult to understand what he’s saying, let alone form a coherent thought, but your body regains consciousness when you feel a hand rest around your shoulder. You flinch at the sudden touch and whisper a string of apologies just as the tears make their way down your cheeks. You’re not sure how long you stay standing where you are but when you move your hands and realize that he’s no longer touching you, you dare to look up at him and try to make yourself smaller when you find him already staring at you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice is unnaturally soothing and you look behind him on queue before you turn your attention to him again. Pedro sighs when he sees where you’re looking and he fixes his glasses before he pushes his hands into his pockets to try and put you at ease. You’re about to ask him why he just killed a man in front of you when the dead body catches your attention and makes you gasp in horror. Pedro doesn’t bother to turn around and keeps his focus on you as you watch the body decompose until the only thing left on the ground is the decayed bones. You can’t tear your eyes away from the almost empty space and Pedro takes this chance to turn back to the skeleton and grab the stake from in between the ribcage.

He takes out his handkerchief and wipes it off before he returns to your side and holds it up for you to take. You look between him and the wooden weapon before your expression turns into a frown and Pedro motions for you to take it.

“Why...why are you giving this to me?” You finally manage to speak and Pedro shrugs his shoulders before he pushes the stake into your hands and takes a few more steps back.

“So you could feel safe.” He responds and hisses when he finally registers the throbbing pain reaching down his arm. He quickly insects his palms and realizes they’re still bleeding from when he touched the silver buckler of his belt. Not wanting to catch your attention, he moves towards the door and holds it open for you.

“But you said that- that you won’t hurt me.” Your voice still holds a hint of fear and Pedro hates that he had to do this in front of you but he pushes aside anything he feels so he could make sure the two of you aren’t anywhere near this room by the time it needs to be cleared of any evidence.

“And yet you’re still afraid of me.” He retorts as you pass by him and out into the empty hallway again. He doesn’t give you a chance to walk ahead of him though and he struts through the library shelves while trying to think of some way he could deal with you knowing about him. He’s sure you don’t fully understand what you saw other than the fact that the man he killed was not human, nor was he. Pedro wants to glance back to gauge your reaction but he doesn’t and continues to walk until he reaches the table where you were studying before. He steps to the side and waits for you to collect your things and when you remain still and stare at him, he silently approaches your desk and shuts your laptop.

“Get your things, I don’t want to leave you here by yourself,” Pedro says as he finally turns around to look at you, and a quick glance down your form lets him know that you are a little more relaxed than before. At least you weren’t holding his weapon like you were about to use it.

“Are there more of...him?” Ha hates how confused and terrified you sound, knowing that it was probably safer if people didn’t know that his kind existed. He reluctantly meets your eyes and feels a sudden shift in the air when he notices the way you are looking at him, as if he wasn’t capable of bleeding you dry in a moment.

“There might be, which is why we should leave soon.”

You’re not sure how to respond to him and you don’t find it in yourself to care because the familiar shade of brown returns to his soft eyes and puts you at ease. You nod and haphazardly push things into your bag, not noticing the way he slowly creeps up behind you and looks down at your notebook. He’s skimming through the notes when something at the corner of one of the pages catches his attention. Not caring about whether he’d get caught, Pedro reads through the smaller handwriting and raises a curious eyebrow at the sudden familiarity behind what he assumes are your words.

They shouldn’t feel so special, not when they’re in a sea of blues and greens. But every time they look at me, I feel warm, as if they were made to look at me. Only me. They shouldn’t feel so different, not when they’re in a field of hazels and browns. But every time they crease when he smiles at me, I feel lucky, as if they were made to pay attention to me. Only me. They shouldn’t feel so welcoming, not when they’re in a sky of blacks and grays. But every time they hold my own, I feel safe, as if they were made to protect me. Only me.

Pedro thinks at that moment that if his heart was beating, then it would be skipping a beat at your little thoughts. They weren’t poetry, far from it, but the way they flowed and spoke of your longing desires for whomever it was you were writing about made him want to be them more than anything else. He thinks he catches his name written right below the little notes but you clear your throat and snap him out of his haze. When he turns to you, he doesn’t quite understand the look you’re giving him but he steps away nonetheless and apologizes quickly before he fixes his glasses yet again and looks around the room.

You try your best to calm your heart rate when you look down and realize which page you left your notebook open on, feigning ignorance to his reaction as you shove it and your pens into your bag.

He knows he should be thinking of some way to make sure that you won’t say anything but as the two of you make your way out of the library, he can’t help but search his mind for anyone in his class that you might be thinking about. When no one comes to mind, he silently swears to himself because it might be someone he’s never met before. He’s not sure if that’s worse or not.

When you’re finally out of the building and standing in the cold autumn air, Pedro scans his surroundings to ensure that no one of his kind was nearby. You sense his restlessness and reluctantly take a step towards him. His jaws clench almost immediately when your scent grows closer to him and it takes every ounce of willpower in his body to not drag you behind the building and drink you down like a delicacy.

“Professor?”

“S-sto...fuck.” He hates how you flinch at his words and doesn’t waste any time before apologizing, hoping that you don’t misunderstand his reluctance with you. “Lo siento, I- I...class starts soon and I still need to- to go to my office. Y-you should head over to the museum now.” He’s tripping over his words and hates the way you’re looking up into his eyes as if he was the one you were writing of in your private notebook. Fuck, if only.

“Can I...um, may I come with you?” You’re not faring any better than him and he clenches his fists tightly to prevent himself from pulling you into his arms to comfort you. He zeroes in on your exposed neck and bites into his cheek when he sees your heart beat pulse against your soft skin.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to walk alone.” It’s a simple remark but Pedro is sure he won’t forget it any time soon. He doesn’t know what to say, mostly because he can’t believe that you would rather walk with him than alone after you’ve seen him violently kill a supernatural being, after knowing that he himself was not as normal as he appeared. Pedro doesn’t dare turn you down and he silently nods before he motions for you to walk with him. Neither of you say anything as you head towards the art history building, and Pedro holds back from smiling when he sees you glancing at him every once in a while. You’re much calmer than earlier, almost as before when the two of you walked to class occasionally from the cafe nearby.

He prays that he isn’t reading too much into what you said not a moment ago because if you truly felt that way, then he wouldn’t need to make you forget any of tonight’s events. God, he really hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“W-would you like this back sir?” You reach for the stake in your jacket pocket to give it to him and Pedro panics momentarily before he reaches down and holds onto your hand tightly. He hisses when he touches the silver rings on your fingers but doesn’t take his hand away, afraid you’d take out the weapon and show it to any passerbys. You gasp at the sudden touch and Pedro thinks that he’s fucked this up already and scared you but then you slip your other hand around his wrist and squeeze it in assurance.

“I won’t take it out, I promise.” You assure him and frantically look around to make sure that no one was witnessing that oddly intimate moment. You can feel the tips of his fingers across your knuckles and grow in disappointment when he actively avoids touching you.

“I- I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as he removes his hand and hisses when he sees the burn mark in the palm of his hand. Pedro gulps as he smiles nervously at you and holds the door open for you to enter. You thank him as you walk ahead, not bothering to wait for him as you ascend the stairs towards his office. He tries hard, he really does, to not stare at your hips as they sway back and forth with each step you take but it’s difficult to ignore you when you’re so close to him, when he knows you may never be near him as you are now.

Pedro groans to himself when he realizes that he might not be able to take care of his hands any time soon.

“Are you alright?” You ask when you hear the pained noise escape his plush lips and blink in confusion when he shakes his head and runs up the stairs ahead of you. You follow quietly and avoid speaking to him any further so as to not bother him. When you reach his office, Pedro unlocks it and steps aside to let you in, once again scanning the hallway to see if anyone was around. He shuts the door behind him as soon as he steps in, only to see you standing near his bookshelf, much farther away from him than he liked. As much as he wants to ask you why you’re putting so much space between the two of you, he doesn’t, instead going around his desk and slipping into his coat. He winces yet again when the material of his coat passes over his injured hands.

Pedro hopes that you don’t notice his pain because he doesn’t know how he would explain what he needs to do for his skin to heal. Before he can think twice about it, he opens one of his drawers and takes out his leather gloves, turning around to slip them on in privacy. He bites his lower lip to stifle his pain, already feeling his muscles shaking with energy when he forces the other glove around his fingers and shuts his eyes to try and prevent them from turning like before. When he’s sure he has full control over himself, he turns around and grabs his shoulder bag, finally allowing himself to acknowledge your presence as he walks towards you.

You finally look up from the floor and blink at him with confusion when you see him strutting your way. As much as you want to, you don’t try to step away from him and hold your ground when he’s only a foot away. Taking a deep breath, you dare look up at him but find it difficult to keep his gaze for longer than a few seconds. Pedro can’t decide what it is that was staring back at him and he doesn’t bother saying anything as he reaches behind you and grabs his scarf. You try your best to ignore his natural musk mixing with whatever cologne he uses but it’s difficult and you unintentionally take a deep breath as he leans into your space. If Pedro notices your little reaction, he says nothing and throws the scarf haphazardly across his neck.

He’s about to pull away when you reach for him but stop yourself at the last minute. This wasn’t appropriate, no matter what has already transpired so far this past afternoon, you shouldn’t touch him so intimately.

“Do you need anything?” Pedro asks when he sees the way you drag your hands back to your sides again. He wanted to touch you so damn badly for god knows how long and now that he knew you wouldn’t mind it, it’s as if he would die if he didn’t slip his fingers across your wrist.

“I- I think you should have this back sir,” you take the stake out of your jacket this time and try to hand it to him. When he doesn’t take it, you frown and push it towards him again.

“You should keep it...so you could feel safe.”

“But...I’m with you sir, I already feel- feel safe.” It’s the second time you’ve let him know that you feel safe with him after what you witnessed and Pedro doesn’t know if he should kiss you or yell at you for being so trusting of someone like him. Someone that didn’t deserve your kindness.

“Then keep it so I know that you’re safe.” There are unspoken words hanging on the end of his remark but you choose to ignore them, knowing that he would never intentionally hurt you. You nod at him as you shove the wooden weapon back into your pocket, allowing yourself to glance at him one last time before he turns around and leads you to the museum. When you do meet his eyes again, you find them a mixture of the lovely brown you’ve grown accustomed to and the bright golden color that captured your attention almost immediately.

Not another word is spoken between the two of you as you make your way to the museum and even though it should be awkward, uncomfortable even, it isn’t. Far from it as you think about it. It occurs to you that so much makes sense about him now, the way he walks, the way he carries himself about a classroom, the language he sometimes uses as he’s described a work of art, as if he was there when it was painted.

It’s not until you walk through the doors of the museum and see the rest of the students waiting around that a strange thought crosses your mind.

If he was similar to the one he killed, then he must be older than he looks.

You stand to the side and watch him interact with the curator of the temporary exhibit, and you notice the subtle mannerisms of his hands as well as the passing expressions that were quickly tamed.

Okay, much older than he looks then.

You follow closely behind him as he leads the class towards the exhibit and when you see the way he seems to turn around every couple of seconds to see where you are, you decide to wait until a few more students surround him before you follow through. The last thing you want is to make him think that you’re latching onto him like a child.

You would later describe this hour and a half museum visit as one of the most difficult minutes of your life, not because of the curator’s remarks or Professor Pascal’s lecture but because of the theme of the exhibit.

Haunting Landscapes: The Many Faces of Death

Now that you think about it, the title of the exhibit was quite hilarious considering the events of today. Up until an hour ago, you didn’t believe in the supernatural and thought that anyone who did was a complete moron. Yet here you were, standing and jotting down notes as you listened to a supernatural creature that could snap your neck in the blink of an eye. You continue to make your way through the different art works, briefly wondering how the university was able to get such masterpieces on loan even if the exhibit was open for only two months. But no matter how hard you try to focus on what he’s saying, you still can’t bring yourself to register anything of importance and when you’re sure that there is no use in standing around idly, you fix your bag and make your way to the previous room to admire the pieces.

There’s an instantaneous disgust to the first painting that you come across and you shake your head in irritation as you briefly look upon Goya’s Saturn Devouring his Children before you move along to the other, less horrifying, artworks. They’re all eerie in their own way but you come to a halt as soon as you stand facing none other than Fuseli’s The Nightmare. There was something so fascinating about this painting that you can’t put a hold on and you marvel at how much larger it is than you previously thought. Now that you are looking at it without the whispers of others around you, you can’t help but admire the flow of the composition and the way the lighter colors contrasted with the deep shades of red, and black.

“Was I boring you hermosa?” The pet name slips his tongue before he can even stop himself and he prays to God that you don’t understand what the endearment means because he would have no way to explain himself. He does, however, apologize to you with a smile when you jump at his sudden presence and drop your notebook. You hold tightly onto your pencil as Pedro leans down and grabs your notebook, finding it odd and slightly coincidental that it opened to the same page he was reading from not an hour ago. Except this time, when you try to take it away from him, Pedro doesn’t look away in embarrassment. Instead, he reads the lines over and over again until he commits them to memory before he hands you the notebook back.

“I- I’m so sorry Professor it’s just-” You begin to apologize but Pedro cuts you off and returns his attention to the painting that has plagued his mind for centuries.

“No need to apologize, you were admiring a painting after all. That’s the whole point of this course.” He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, afraid he would find something that he’s longed to have for years swimming in your kind orbs.

“I thought it was to get us to think critically about the context of the artwork?” That earns a chuckle from him and you’re surprised by how easy-going he is now that you weren’t standing in a space by yourselves.

“Well, that’s a secondary goal. The main idea is, at least that’s what I tell myself every night as I prepare lectures, that each and every one of you walks out of my class with a unique understanding of art. It might not seem like it but I choose every artwork meticulously, hoping that its strange yet beautiful composition allows you to grow closer to it, not just as an aesthetic object but as something that you can confide in. Something that can, and will, forever keep your deepest darkest secrets should you whisper them to it.” The way he speaks completely captivates you and you don’t realize you’ve gravitated closer to him until you turn away from the painting to look at him.

“Confide in?”

“Yes, confide in. Take this marvelous work for example. There is no moralizing subject to this scene. It is neither biblical nor is it literary...it’s not even historical, which is quite odd considering it was created at the height of the Enlightenment period. The use of chiaroscuro isn’t serving an underlying symbolic feature, there isn’t one if you ask me. Yet it captivates you nonetheless, drags you closer to it until it takes a hold, not just on your conscious mind, but your subconscious as well. Excluding the horse and the figure standing atop the woman’s breasts, this painting literally depicts what it feels like to not be able to breathe...to have something unbearably heavy crush your lungs and prevent you from feeling light. It’s letting you know that you-” Pedro makes the mistake of turning towards you, and the words die in his throat when he sees the way you’re no longer admiring the painting but him.

God Almighty, he had to tell you.

“...that you aren’t the only one feeling this way.” He finishes the rest of his sentence quietly and he doesn’t realize that he’s staring at your lips until he meets your eyes and sees you licking your own in return.

“P-professor…” Your whisper feels like a stake to the heart and he no longer cares for propriety as he slips his gloves hands from his pockets and takes the notebook from your hands. You give it to him willingly and turn to the floor with embarrassment when he opens it to the page he was previously reading from in the library.

“Whom do you write about hermosa?” Pedro asks as he allows his eyes to roam over more of your words, silently praying that you weren’t attached to anyone else, that’s it him you’re longing for. There’s a million reasons why this was frowned upon but he couldn't care less.

It was an easily fixed problem after all. But only if you consented to it.

When you don’t answer right away, Pedro forces his attention away from your written dreams to study your changing expressions.

“Don’t...don’t you know?”

Unlike the sleeping young woman in the painting that can’t breathe from the weight of the creature atop her, it’s almost as if the invisible ghoul has been lifted off his own chest and he can breathe again. Pedro thinks of a million confessions to reveal to you in that moment but none of them make it out as he is rudely interrupted by one of the students letting him know the curator needed him in the other room again. He shuts his eyes to collect his bearings before he hands you back your notebook and whispers loud enough for you to hear.

“Stay after class...please.” He hopes that you aren’t taking this as an order and when he sees a shy smile grace your features, he allows himself to relax for a moment before he heads towards the other students.

You’re not sure what to make of the sudden shift in the dynamic between you and Professor Pascal and you find yourself too distracted to properly think of what he could possibly want from you after class. He’s been nothing but cautious ever since you caught him in the rather awkward situation in the library but now that you think about it, you don’t want him to treat you so carefully. You want him to be as he was before today: honest, shameless, and straightforward. Just hearing him speak of the figures in the painting revealed to you that he was most likely avoiding saying what he truly wanted to say.

You don’t like that one bit.

Looking at your watch, you push your notebook back into your bag and slip your hands into your jacket pockets, eyes widening in fear for a moment when you feel the stake beneath your fingers before you realize what it was. As you make your way back to the rest of the group, you notice how much calmer Professor Pascal is and you pray that it was because of you and not something else. So busy admiring him as he concluded with a few important notes on the theme of the exhibition, you don’t notice the other students walking towards the exit until the curator comes up to you and breaks your train of thoughts.

“Did you have a question about Fuseli’s piece?” She asks and smiles at you when you blink at her for a few moments before you struggle through an answer.

“Oh uhh no actually I- well, Professor Pascal answered my question already so there’s no need to bother you.” Pedro turns around when he hears you say his name and he watches as you try to come up with something else so you didn’t look too suspicious.

“Great, in that case, I’ll see you at dinner Pedro!” Her words catch you off guard and you don’t bother hiding your frown from Pedro when he walks up to the two of you with his hands in his pockets again.

“Actually, I’ll take a rain check. Something urgent came up and I don’t think I can put it off.” The way he smiles at her makes you feel a little guilty and you pretend to look at something in your phone so he doesn’t feel too annoyed by having to speak with you.

“No problem at all. It’ll have to be some time next week though because I’m drowning in the next few days.” She says as she begins to walk away and Pedro nods in agreement before he bids her a good night and turns to face you.

“I- I didn’t mean to…” You try to break the awkward silence by apologizing to him but he doesn’t let you.

“I don’t want to go to dinner with her, not today and certainly not next week. But I have to.” You’re not sure if Pedro can read minds or not because somehow, this was exactly what you needed to hear to put your mind at ease.

“Oh, I see.”

“How about we go back to my office?” Pedro asks with a hint of hope in his voice and you nod at him almost immediately. You’re still shy around him but he can tell that this was different than before. He isn’t sure why you’re behaving this way but he thanks the heavens that you are, at the very least, not doing it out of fear of what he might do to you. Not that he’d ever try anything…

Like before, the walk to his office is quiet and it’s Pedro’s turn to steal glances from you occasionally. He can tell that you’re a little cold and he tries his best to ignore your chattering teeth so he doesn’t take his coat off and drape it across your smaller frame. It’s not the best thought to cross his mind today because as soon as he starts imagining you wearing his clothes, he feels the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch.

Great.

By the time you get back to the building, it’s as empty as the early hours of the day and you want to ask him if you are allowed to be with him with no one around but you hold back. He probably knows what he’s doing. And it wasn’t as if he was going to try something with you. If the events of the day proved anything, it was that he wanted to make sure that you’re safe, even from someone like him. It’s not until you’re in the warmth of his office that his actions from before finally register and you drop your bag to the ground with a thud, causing Pedro to furrow his eyebrows and walk towards you.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly and you will yourself to look up into his eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

This man.

“You...do you really think I could ever bring myself to use this against you?” You take the stake out from your pocket and Pedro inhales deeply as he eyes the weapon before he looks to the floor in defeat.

“I don’t want you to fear me, hermosa. I just...I am not sure of- of...” He doesn’t want to say it, afraid that you’d finally realize that you should be afraid of him.

“Of what?” You urge him to finish the sentence and try to get his attention by stepping into his space again.

“Me.”

You’re not sure if he is referring to himself as a man or as a supernatural being but after a couple of seconds, you realize that it doesn’t matter because you trust him either way.

“Sir...I trust you.” It’s the best response you can come up with and you hope that it’s enough for him to start acting normally again.

In the end, it’s exactly what Pedro needed to hear because one moment you’re begging for his attention, and the next thing you know, you’re surrounded by a strong pair of arms and a scent that you can only describe as feeling like home. Pedro knows he’s crossing a line but he can’t hold back anymore and he tightens his hold around you when he feels you slipping your own arms across his back and trying to burrow yourself into his chest. You’re not sure how long you spend standing in the middle of his office in his arms but when Pedro finally begins to pull away, you already miss feeling him everywhere.

“Sir-”

“Please, call me by my name.” He cuts you off and slips his hands across your neck to let you know that he truly meant what he said. His fingers trail across your lips before they descend to your chin and he wants nothing more than to have you look at him so he could know for sure that there was no hesitation behind your words.

“Pedro,” a violent chill rushes through his veins at the sound of his name on your lips and he shakes his head before he tries to raise your chin so you could look at him.

“Why do you avoid looking at me sweetheart?” Pedro smiles to himself when he feels your skin heat at the nickname and you fist your hands into his coat to try and get a grip on yourself.

“Because...because I’m afraid they’ll pull me in deeper. And I’m already...I’m-” You don’t know how to put what you’re feeling into words and Pedro senses your fears immediately because he realizes that all this time, they mirrored his own.

“May I kiss you darling?” His question catches you off guard and it’s ironically the only thing that makes you meet his eyes soon after. As difficult as it is to keep his gaze, you swallow the lump in your throat nervously when you see your own emotions reflected in his golden brown orbs and you forget why it’s always been so difficult to admire them.

“Please?”

Pedro smiles down at you one last time before he leans down to kiss you. When his reddened lips finally touch your own eager ones, it’s as if you are standing in the middle of the greatest works of art to have existed in the world. He’s everything you’ve imagined he’d be and so much more. And when you feel his hands slip down to your lower back and push you closer into him, you gasp and accidentally slip your tongue into his mouth. Pedro takes the chance and deepens the kiss when he feels your tongue seek out his own and before you can pull away to apologize, he seeks you out and slowly traces your lips with his tongue. You can only stand there and allow him to take whatever he wants from you, unable to feel anything else but the way he seems to be making love to your lips. It’s a weird way to put it but it’s the only description you can come up with to describe the way he was claiming you.

When the need for air becomes too great, Pedro breaks the kiss but rests his forehead against your own so you don’t think he doesn’t want you near him.

“That was-” You try to tell him what it is you’re feeling right now but he beats you to it with a soft chuckle.

“Long overdue.” Pedro sighs heavily as he finally opens his eyes to look at you. When he notices your eyebrows go up in surprise, he realizes that they must have shifted colors when he was kissing you.

“Oh I’m sorry querida, they-” He’s about to move away from you to hide himself but you pull him right back against your chest.

“Don’t...they’re beautiful.” Pedro feels like a young man when he hears how sincere your compliment is and he’s close to thanking you when he notices how damp his shirts sleeves have become. Turning his attention to his hands, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of blood that colors his clothes and he doesn’t bother explaining anything to you as he lets you go and takes a few steps away. You’re surprised by the sudden switch in his demeanor and when you move towards him and touch his shoulders, he flinches at you and turns around.

“Pedro, is everything okay?”

“I- I’m…” His nerves get the best of him but he tries his best to ignore how good you smell all of a sudden.

“Pedro?” You ask again, hoping that he can confide in you and not turn you away.

“It’s nothing.” Pedro’s voice sounds restrained and he hisses when he feels the way his skin stings whenever he stretches his fingers beneath the gloves.

“Don’t lie to me, please.” You plead with him one last time as you step closer to him. When you do finally lay your hands around his shoulders again, Pedro only sighs but doesn’t ask you to move away from him.

“If I tell you, I might lose you.”

“You won’t.” It’s almost like you’re talking down a wounded animal and when Pedro finally turns around and takes his gloves off, you realize that this couldn’t have been more true. You gasp when you see the violent shade of red peppering the gruesome burns across his hands and before you can ask him how this happened, Pedro is walking towards the couch and silently telling you to join him.

“Silver is dangerous to my kind and...well, it’s the only way I can get an upper hand over someone like myself.” He watches your facial expressions to gauge your reaction and when he finds nothing but worry, he sighs in relief.

“So you use weapons made of silver?”

“Yes, even the stake in your pocket has some specs of silver in it. It’s why I gave it to you. It would keep you safe even if you only struck it in my leg.” Pedro says as he watches you take hold of his palms and look them over to see how bad the damage is.

“Why aren’t you healing?” Pedro should have expected this question and he hates how you notice the way he freezes at your inquiry.

“It’s umm, it’s been a while since I...fed.” He looks away from you when he admits his secret, afraid that your fondness would turn to disgust when you realize that he was more monstrous than he appeared. You’re quietness makes him more anxious than he’s ever felt in a while and when you let go of his hands, Pedro feels his chest tighten around his heart.

“Why not feed on me?”

Your response makes him snap his head towards you and with a frown on his face, he takes his hands away from your lap and moves away from you.

“Don’t ever ask me that again!” He knows he shouldn’t be this angry at such an innocent question but he can’t ever think that you were available for him to...to-

“Why not?” You ask as you take your jacket off and throw it to the side before you raise the sleeve of your right hand until it’s at your elbow. Pedro watches you as you ignore his obvious distress and expose yourself to him, as if you already decided that he would feed on you.

“Because I- I can’t...I don’t trust myself, especially not with you.”

“Well good thing I trust you then.” Pedro doesn’t understand how you can act so chill about something like this and he wants to kick you out of his office and shut the door behind you. But then he looks down and sees how protruding and beautiful the veins on your wrists are and he starts to lose himself. He licks his lips without thought and you clench your thighs in return when you see the way he’s eyeing your skin.

“Please,” Pedro begs one last time, knowing that he won’t be able to deny himself if you offer yourself to him again.

“I trust you Pedro.”

Those words shouldn’t sound so easy coming from you yet when he meets your curious orbs, he finds no fear or reluctance in them, only the need to help him out.

Pedro nods briefly before he slowly reaches for your wrist. The last thing he wants is to descend on you like an enraged animal and scare you so he does his best to inch your skin closer to his mouth without giving you any reason to fear him. He never once breaks eye contact as he takes hold of your hand with both of his bloody palms and even though you should feel disgusted by the bright red coloring your skin, you aren’t. On the contrary, you feel bad that he’s gone this entire time without taking care of himself and with a soft smile, you raise your hand to his lips so he doesn’t feel guilty for using you.

“It will only hurt a moment querida,” Pedro whispers as he parts his lips and reveals to you two long and sharp fangs that weren’t present when he kisses you minutes ago. You nod to let him know that you understand and grab his knee with your other hand to reassure him. Pedro inhales deeply and isn’t surprised when he gets a whiff of the sweet scent of your blood thrumming beneath your skin. It’s almost as if it was calling for him, waiting for him to sink his teeth so it could flow easily into his mouth. He doesn’t know why he feels this way but as soon as he punctures your skin with his fangs, it finally hits him.

It was because you felt about him as strongly as he felt about you.

He can’t help but shut his eyes to savor your taste as he suckles down the viscous liquid keeping you alive. If you notice him growing more crazed with every passing moment, you say nothing, and instead mirror his actions and shut your eyes to enjoy the intimate moment. You aren’t sure if it is pain or pleasure you’re feeling but when Pedro groans as he brings your skin impossibly closer to his mouth, you recognize what it is that’s making your lungs give out with every breath you take.

It was nothing but an unbearable need to have this man in every way he would allow.

So busy losing yourself in the varying sensations coursing through your body, you don’t notice Pedro’s hands healing until you force yourself to open your eyes and study him. There was still blood covering his palms but from the looks of it, all the cuts have properly healed and you marveled at the fact that not a single scare was left behind. When you turn your attention to Pedro and find his eyebrows furrowed as his suckling slowed down, you lean forward and kiss his forehead to let him know that everything was okay. It must be what he needs because his eyes fly open instantly and he lets go of your wrist but not before licking the two small puncture wounds one last time so they could heal. You shouldn’t be surprised by how quickly you heal and you make a mental note to ask him about this later.

When you do finally meet his eyes, Pedro seems a little guilty and he avoids returning your gaze for a moment. But then you’re slipping your hand across his cheek and raising his head so he could look at you and Pedro loses himself all over again.

The two of you remain still for what feels like hours, with you silently telling Pedro that he can have whatever he wants from you, and Pedro looking you over to make sure that you weren’t afraid of him. He takes notice of the way you continue to bite your lower lip and how dilated your pupils are, and when his focus descends and he sees how rapid your heart rate is and the way you continue to rub your thighs together, he looks back at you and realizes what it was you were conveying to him. The atmosphere is filled with clarity all of a sudden, and the two of you recognize what the other needs without needing to say anything, as if the past few weeks were always going to lead to this moment right here, with or without the unfortunate event that unfolded hours ago.

Within a heartbeat, the two of you clash together like thunder and lightning, with you reaching for Pedro’s belt so he doesn’t have to touch it again and Pedro slipping his hands beneath your skirt to drag your panties down. When you throw the belt to the ground and unbutton his pants, Pedro pulls your hands away and pushes you down into his couch until he is completely covering you. You should feel claustrophobic but knowing that he was the only thing you can see in your vision does something to you and you pull him down in a heated kiss without caring for the metallic taste that was probably still present in his mouth.

Pedro groans at your eagerness and he slips his hand between the two of you to take his achingly hard cock out of his pants. He struggles to drag down his pants and boxers far enough to free his dick and thinks that he should probably undress and ask you to do the same but he realizes he can’t wait any longer to have you. And from the looks of it, neither can you.

“P-Pedro...please,” you whisper against his lips one last time before he shoves his tongue into your mouth and just when you’re about to beg him again, Pedro teases your entrance before he inches the head of his cock into your wet cunt. The two of you moan in unison when he continues to push into you and when he’s fully seated in your heat, you break the kiss to take a better look at him. What you find staring back at you should terrify you to your bones but you don’t care for what he is or how possessive he seems to be as he returns your gaze. The only thing you care about is how perfectly full he makes you feel and how hard he’s throbbing inside of you.

You’re about to ask him to move when he slowly pulls all the way out before he sinks into you again and you throw your head back to enjoy every protruding vein that passes against your tight walls. You should feel pathetic for how wet you are for this man but the way he whimpers your name over and over again like a mantra makes you forget everything. Pedro senses that you’re in your head again and he leans down and nips at your jaw to catch your attention.

“Stay with me mi cielo,” Pedro groans against your lips and you feel your skin crawl with heat when you hear how desperate he sounds. You’re not sure what it is he’s calling you but something tells you it isn’t easy for him to admit it just yet. You part your lips for him and stick your tongue out far enough for him to lick before he nuzzles into your neck. A rush of anticipation zaps down your back and you silently pray that he decides to sink his teeth into your neck. You’re a little disappointed though when you feel him kiss and nip at your jugular hard enough to leave his mark but not too hard to pierce the skin.

Pedro takes notice of your increasing heart rate when he descends down on your neck and he thinks that it’s out of fear of what he might do. But when you comb your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, he’s shocked to understanding what your body was asking of him. Instead of giving you what you want, Pedro increases his pace and digs his nails into the cloth of his couch so he doesn’t mark you up more than necessary. As much as he wants to see the imprint of his hands on your throat and your hips, he holds back and fists his hands into his couch to keep himself ground as he thrusts harder into your cunt.

He’s never felt this desperate to cum before and he isn’t sure if it’s because it has been a while since he surrendered himself to someone so willingly or because it was you that he was claiming over and over again. You clench tightly around his cock the deeper he pounds into you and as soon as you hear him whimpering a string of pleas along with your name in your ears, you wrap your arms tightly around him and arch your back as you cum on his cock. Pedro groans in pain and pleasure as your pussy convulses around him violently and before he can stop himself, he pushes your head to the side and descends down on the soft skin right beside your clavicle. It takes you by surprise but you scream his name as he suckles down the blood escaping your veins like a river spilling into the sea. It’s much more aggressive than before but you enjoy it nonetheless. It almost feels like his fangs went deeper than when they were in your wrist and you shake in his arms when he licks the wounds he’s caused haphazardly before his hand rips the front of your shirt and shoves down the cup of your bra to reveal your heaving chest to his eyes.

Pedro doesn’t give you any time to react to his sudden desperation as he expertly digs his sharp teeth right above your sensitive nipple and you throw your head back when he sucks around the hardened bud as he drinks down your blood. It’s simultaneously filthy and intimate, and you smile when you realize that he needed you so much to the point where he didn’t have any control over his actions.

A teasing bite to your nipple makes you raise your hips against his thrusts and as soon as you look down and see the way he’s eyeing the blood painting your flushed chest like the dark rays of the sun when it sets, a whimper escapes your lips and catches Pedro’s attention. Whereas the gold specs of his eyes shocked you before, they’re now filled with nothing but passion and commitment. A moment of clarity snaps Pedro out of his haze and before he can apologize to you for what he’s done, you’re dragging him down to you yet again and kissing him, not caring for the sharp weapons hiding behind his lips that could cut you by accident.

As soon as he feels you softly lick at his fangs, Pedro drives his cock into your cunt one last time before he cums, painting your heated walls with unnaturally warm and long strings of his seed. You cross your legs around his back as he continues to twitch inside you, and you moan beneath him the more he fills you up. Pedro doesn’t dare move his mouth against yours, afraid that he would hurt you by accident if he devoured you like he wants. He’s breathing heavily and huffing from how sensitive he is as your tight cunt flutters around him the more he pumps his seed into you. When he finally relaxes and stops moving inside you, you break the kiss and rest your head back against the arm of the couch.

Neither of you say anything and Pedro isn’t sure if he should get off of you or remain where he is. When he looks down and sees that the wound above your hard nipple is still bleeding, he leans down and licks across your breast, wincing in pain when it causes you to clench around his cock one last time in reflex.

“F-fuck…” You whisper as you follow his eyesight and see the mess he made of your clothes. When you meet his eyes and see how guilty he looks, you relax your leg muscles and tilt your head to the side like a puppy. Pedro blinks down at you in shame but the feeling of guilt washes away when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Stay with me.” Pedro returns the smile when he hears his own words on your lips and he takes a deep breath before he leans down to rest his forehead against yours.

“Whatever you say...mi corazón.”

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal/reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #professor pedro pascal #professor/student relationship #spoopy season #vampire au #vampire hunter au

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