#most if not all of these animals were warm-blooded
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Tfw it’s 2022 and people still think dinosaurs, pterosaurs and marine reptiles were cold-blooded.
#dinosaurs#dinosaur#paleontology#pterosaurs#plesiosaurs#ichthyosaurs#mosasaurs#most if not all of these animals were warm-blooded#do y’all really think the feathered dinos were cold blooded?
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im sorry seals molt? my association with that word is insects so i am confused and intrigued
They do! I’d say most species of animals sloughs off “old” parts of their bodies at some point of their lives in some capacity. The word “molting” is used as a catch-all term for this process, although exactly what body part they shed and how they do it varies from animal to animal. Arthropods grow an entire new exoskeleton and shed the old one, but for most other animals, this process only involves shedding the outermost layer of their bodies, the pelage and/or their first layer of skin. Reptiles are quite famous for this because they sometimes manage to come out of their old skins and leave them almost fully intact as if they were kigurumi pajamas:
Mammals tend to mostly only shed fur or hair, growing thicker fur during colder months and losing it in favor of shorter fur during warmer months. How obvious this is depends on the climate, though. It’s quite perceptible in mammals that live in the arctic whose fur changes color depending on the season:
But even the difference between the summer coats and winter coats of domestic dogs can be palpable if you live in places with colder climates!
(I’m quite fascinated by this because I was born and raised in a tropical country and my dogs look the same all year round heh)
But back to the seals. Pinnipeds don’t really use their fur to keep warm like other mammals do, but they still have it, and they have to shed their old coats and grow new ones accordingly, which they do once a year!
In elephant seals, this process is so sudden and so extreme it’s called catastrophic molting. They don’t only lose their fur, but also a layer of dead skin all at once and this forces them to stay on land for a full month without swimming (and therefore, without hunting and eating) until the process is fully done. Because molting requires redirecting blood flow towards the skin instead of to their vital organs as usual, if they swam in the cold waters they’re usually accustomed to while molting, they’d freeze!
Bonus fun fact: despite having lost their fur during the evolution process, cetaceans like whales and dolphins also go through a molting process where they lose a layer of dead skin, which they scrape off by rubbing against rocks and rolling on sand banks.
It’s been recently discovered (as of 2020!) that the reason whales migrate annually from arctic waters to tropical waters is the exact same reason elephant seals spend a month on land: to molt! It’s much easier for a whale to keep warm while shedding its skin in warm waters than it is in cold waters.
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virgin sacrifice reader offered to war god ghost?? prepare to be his lovely wife instead of a sacrifice with at least 10 demigods running around, he wants to raise strong warriors!
Ghost would definitely be a god similiar to Ares; a god of war, brutality, bloodshed, masculinity and virility. Men go and pray by his shrine or in his dedicated temple to give them strength in both battle and bed, to be a strong and unbeatable warrior and be able to father strong, healthy children.
One such temple, the main one, is in a surprisingly remote location, surrounded not by a major city or capital but a few villages. According to myths it was this place where a brutal battle took place millenia ago where the fearsome god Ghost defeated an army all by himself, the blood of his slain enemies served to make the land fertile and for many villages to grow and prosper...until now.
Usually sacrifaces to appease the god would be made by the men of the villages; black stallions, the strongest bulls, wine, silver and pure steel, everything that has connections to masculinity and power, however some kind of horrible fatum seems to hang over your little village. The animals either die young or are sickly and weak, the wine turns out sour like vinegar, there in so money to buy anything either and it's taken as a curse by the elders. If nothing will be done and Ghost won't have his sacrifice who knows what will happen?
So they decide on the next best thing, a desperate last choice reach in hopes to appease the brutal god-a virgin sacrifice. The prettiest, unmarried and untouched young woman is to be chosen, dressed in the finest, gauzy silks and locked inside the stone temple in hopes that the god will come down and the blood of a slain virgin will calm his fury. Luck wasn't on your side it seems, you were chosen.
All you could remember were the desperate cries of your mother, the dissapointed remorseful look on your father's face and the ritual cleansing of the old crones in the village. You were cleaned in rose water, intricate patterns were drawn with a mixture of honey, mushed up berries and flowers on your breasts, around your nipples and bellybutton, and the most intricate was drawn on the place where your womb was. You were clothed in a white gauzy dress that was a symbol of your purity and then you were bound and dragged to the temple no matter how much you struggled and kicked and pleaded until you were finally locked in the dimly lit temple, only the many candles present to lighten the main chamber and to show the powerful, majestic sculpture of the god, Ghost.
Imagine crying yourself to sleep, everything hurt, you were scared and confused, all alone to die in this forsaken temple because some old men decided on it. Falling asleep out of exhaustion, the images of your crying, terrified mother haunting you even when sleeping.
Imagine waking up and instead of feeling cold and sore from sleeping on the unforgiving stone floor, and instead finding yourself laying on and under the most luxurious furs you've ever seen, the warmth of them felt like a blanket and the smell of them, pleasant warm masculine musk made a shiver run down your spine, just where were you?
Before you had the chance of looking around the room, you felt huge, strong arms clamping togehter around you and bringing you into a powerful, broad chest which rumbled with a growl like purr and a stern voice saying:
"Stay. Don't move around girl."
And the very same arms turned you gently around to face the man behind you and you couldn't help but gasp and breath out a tiny, frightened yelp-behind you was laying a man who looked like the stone sculpture of Ghost cane to life and became human. It...it was Ghost. You laid next to a god.
#kin speaks#asks#interactions#THIS IS SUCH A DELIGHTFUL ASK AND IDEA#sorry for this shitty ending but it was getting too long😭#but i'm more than open to explore this more 💕💕#god of war!ghost#cod x reader#cod mw x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley
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Things Simon Loves About You
Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.
Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.
Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.
He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.
It’s still going on ‘til this day.
He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.
He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.
He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.
Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.
And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.
He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—
You see where this is going.
He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.
He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.
Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!
He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.
Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing.
He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from
anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .
Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.
Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).
Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”
All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
Masterpost
Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#mw2#mw2 x reader#ghost mw2#ghost#ghost cod#mw2 ghost#cod#cod modern warfare#cod ghost#cod x reader#ghost x reader#mw2 ghost x reader#ghost x you
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At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.
My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.
On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.
As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.
The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.
Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.
The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.
Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.
The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.
This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.
That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.
Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.
It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.
Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.
My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.
Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.
Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.
They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.
“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.
Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.
They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.
We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.
He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.
We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.
The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.
When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”
“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”
We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.
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dis idea just popped n my head (feel free to ignore dis 😔) how abt stripper oc nd obsessed mafia jk aaaaaaaaaa like they went to a bar to blow some steam off nd he found oc nd is now obsessed w her
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: strangers to lovers, mafia!au
warnings: yandere, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and organised crime, stripper!oc, possessiveness, obsession, soft daddy dom!jk 🫣, daddy kink 😶🌫️, dry humping, choking, hints of sadism & masochism, dirty talk, praise <3, edging, mentions of orgasm denial, rough sex, aftercare (basically he's an animal but also a simp)
The way you danced was hypnotizing. His eyes followed the sway of your hips from side to side, until all he heard was his own pulse, ticking like a clock. It pulled him into a trance, leaving his drink forgotten and the rest of the world blurred.
The thrill of inevitable eye contact flipped a switch.
From victim to predator, Jungkook leaned back, legs spread comfortably. The heavy, golden chains on his neck gleamed in the dim lights of the club, matching the rings adorning his tattooed fingers. His look and his status certainly attracted attention; but Jungkook didn't notice nor care.
He didn't even know what Namjoon and Jin were talking about. His muscles were heavy with pent up tension, heat only growing the longer he watched you.
One thing was obvious; Jungkook was not a man who ever held back from going after the things he wanted.
And in that moment, he knew he wanted you.
"Quit."
The whisper warmed your neck, the wall he cornered you against cooling your flushed cheek.
"I'll take care of everything," he let his lips brush the shell of your ear, coaxing a shiver. "Take care of you. You'll never have to lift a finger."
He didn't want you to go inside. Past these doors, he'd lose any grip he had on you, your body no longer yours, or his. It would belong to the crowd.
And Jungkook was patient until he wasn't. Grinding against you and pleading, utterly weak. A word he never thought would apply to him.
"No," you breathed softly. "You don't want to help me. You want to own me."
Jungkook stilled behind you. He swallowed thickly, a veiny, inked hand tentatively touching yours.
"Would that be so bad?" He asked. "Being mine?"
A question too complex to answer now, when he was imprinted all over your senses. The smell of his cologne, potent and familiar. His voice and his touch, sinking in through your skin as easily as embers. Leaving you glowing, burning hot and stained black all over. Like something from hell itself has crawled out to lay its claim on you.
You took in a deep breath, attempting to hold yourself together.
"Give me some time."
Jungkook sighed. His head dropped to your shoulder.
Time.
He felt himself going soft. The blood no longer rushing south, but to his heart instead, making it twist and thrum. He could wait forever; if that didn't mean having to share you. The thought alone made him feel sick. He'd sooner burn the club down.
"Come over later?"
The suggestion came with a butterfly kiss on the nape of your neck.
It wasn't surprising that he let you go. However, it also wasn't surprising that he ended up renting out a private lounge, buying most of your time for the day.
It barely took a few minutes before you were sitting on his lap, feeling his hands caress your thighs. You belonged to him, as he belonged to you, your body meant for his eyes only. He liked giving you a different pole to work on; and you liked taking it. And he knew it was your favorite, from the way it made you drip and quiver.
A few long weeks have passed since you started sleeping together; months, even. Always devoted to learning what made you feel good, Jungkook was well aware he could let loose. Lay you down on the table and kiss you until you couldn't breathe, knead and lick wherever he wanted.
His pants were barely off, slipping lower when he started fucking you, slow but rhythmic in his thrusts. He knew what he was doing to you — felt it in the desperate grip of your swollen cunt. You'd forgotten your place, and it was his job to remind you where it was. Sometimes, punishments were necessary.
Enjoyable, too. The softness of your helpless body, the glaze in your eyes.
"You want to come, baby?" The loving murmur taunted, tickling your lips hotly. "Can't do it on your own?"
You whined softly, shaking your head. Jungkook chuckled, the sound raspy.
"Not such a big girl, after all. You need your daddy, don't you, my love? It's okay," he promised, "let daddy do grown up things like thinking for you."
The feeling of your sticky pussy clenching had him leaking with you, drawing a hiss out of his mouth, prompting his hips to pump faster.
Your nails dug into his shoulder blade, your body pulling him in deeper, closer; arousal tense and heavy deep in his balls, preparing to explode. The table started shaking with you, and Jungkook snaked his hand around your dainty throat, adorning it with the gold of his rings.
"Tell me you will." He pleaded again. "You wouldn't break your daddy's heart, right? I love you so fucking much. Tell me you're mine."
Your orgasm was in his hands, and so was your heart. If he had to cream your cute, little hole three times and leave you an aching mess, crying and trembling for release, he would. Until you remembered who you needed more than air and the lesson would stick. It wasn't exactly a challenge.
He was so in love with your cunt, like with the rest of you, the sensitivity thrumming through his cock felt divine. He could stay buried inside you forever, spent, sated, and still hard, like a horny teenager. He could die happy if it was by your side. And that was almost terrifying.
Most of all, it was unfair.
He was the one pounding into you, controlling your pleasure; he could take control of your entire life if he wanted.
So why did he feel so helpless? One flick of your finger and he was down on his knees like a king turned servant. And it wasn't fucking fair, but then, love never was, and the shake of your thigh on his hip let him know you were beginning to realise that too.
Panting, Jungkook clenched his jaw and stopped, sweat rolling down his chest. His eyes locked with yours, amorous and dark, peeking at you behind his thick lashes.
"Please," you whispered into his mouth, barely keeping yourself still. "Please, please, daddy."
He groaned. He adored that gleam in your eye, the nervous grip your hands had on the table. His perfect little girl, choosing a good beating from daddy for her pretty pussy over the life she lived. He knew you would.
Because you loved him just as much as he loved you.
Lowering his lips to yours, Jungkook started moving again, swallowing your little cries with sloppy kisses. Something about it so dirty, like he was trying to fill you everywhere, slow, sweet tongue fucking your mouth, and a hard, throbbing cock filling your cunt.
He needed it; needed you full of him. Steadily increasing his pace, skin hitting skin with a vulgar wetness. You needed it, too, your pussy clenching heatedly, as if it wasn't small enough for him already.
"Good fuckin' girl," Jungkook moaned raspily, beginning to lose his breath. "You take daddy's cock so well, it's your only fucking job. Being all pretty and keeping it empty."
He wanted this every day; the pain and the pleasure. He'd take anything you'd be willing to give him and kiss your hands to say his grace. Everything inside him tensed up, and the hot twirl in his abdomen shot up his spine, making the hand on your thigh dig into the flesh.
"Fuck," the filthy groan vibrated against your ear, his lips so close. "Baby, I'm gonna c-come."
Your sweaty chest arched into his, a slurred, breathy whine making him twitch.
"Love you, daddy."
Jungkook gritted his teeth, but he couldn't stop the pathetic whimper that broke through, nor the rush of his hot seed shooting out. He would have been embarrassed by the way his voice broke, if he noticed; even more so if you did. But he was too busy squeezing his eyes shut and groaning; and you were too busy soaking the cock pounding into you, trembling as you took it.
And you took it so well, so fucking eagerly, letting him fill up every inch. Letting him leave you with nothing but him coming down, marks of your love all over you and the lounge. The scent of sex in the air, the wet, messed up table. The pleasant ache that made it obvious your knees would give out if you tried to walk.
The afterglow was among Jungkook's favorites; like light shining through your soul, all starry eyes and warm skin, hearts beating in perfect sync. Absolute clarity in a tender haze.
Back on the leather couch, Jungkook held you close, both of his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Eyes half lidded, lips warm, roaming your skin to press kisses along your temple. Down to your cheek, a little sleepy in his devotion.
He couldn't remember the last time he longed to get into his bed so much. The difference was that now you would be in it with him, and not just to have sex. He'd get to fall asleep with your head on his chest, all tangled limbs, and wake up nestled in your arms.
It was four in the morning by the time his head hit the pillow. You've dozed off on the way home already, stirring occasionally as Jungkook carried you upstairs and changed you into his shirt. Clinging to him the moment he crawled under the covers.
He held your hand in his, alternating between kissing your palm and your fingers. He was going to put a ring on the one that had a vein connected right to your heart, give you his last name, his children. He had nothing more to offer; his heart, his body, his money, all of that has been yours since the first time.
You could still dance whenever you wanted to, just work for him instead. A private show for your biggest fan, the only customer you needed.
And in the morning you'd find him slipping between your thighs, barely awake as his hips gyrated. Almost like you had a dance of your own, a rhythm that no one else matched, let alone understood.
Perhaps you were made for him. And now that he's found you, he wasn't going to let you go. The past didn't matter; not yours or his. You loved him; and as long as you did, to Jungkook, that was all that mattered.
#🫠#ily bby 💖#yandere bts#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts smut#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts reactions#jungkook smut
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Early morning cuddling pt.2
[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]
[Halsin, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale]
Part One
Halsin
You'd think that you married a fairytale princess by the amount of small animals you wake up each morning to, cuddling by your side and nuzzling against Halsin's warmth.
Not that he seems to mind. If anything, he seems the happiest sharing his bed with all those willing. His strong arm keeps a hold over you during the night, keeping you close and secure to his chest while he easily falls into a state of meditation. He prefers keeping the window open and listening to the wind outside, swaying of leaves and chipping of bird in the morning.
You did wonder what exactly does he think about during his meditation, and he confessed he replays his favourite memories. Reminding himself of what's worth fighting for in this life.
His palm cupping your face so gently, rough from centuries of tending to plants and magic practice. You can smell the earth embedded in his skin.
Who is worth fighting for.
If you're the type to sleep in during the morning, he happily indulges you as you cuddle closer to him. Resting your head on the rise and fall of his chest.
Letting the drumming of his heartbeat lull you into the land of dreams, just for a short while, maybe five minutes more.
feeling his hand draw circles on your back soothingly. You catch a glimpse of a whispered prayer to the father of nature, Halsin asking him to protect you, keep your soul and heart pure, keep you by his side for as long as this cycle of life allows.
♡
Astarion
You only realise the worth of love after having experienced solitude.
Astarion came to realise how much it meant to have someone just hold you in bed, nothing more, a simple body laying next to him in blissful sleep.
To have someone relish in your company so much, feel safe around him so much that you'd willingly want him to stay by your side while you were the most vulnerable.
It feels strange in his heart, a twing or guilt, even shame.
What did he do to deserve this?
How are you so peaceful next to a vampire? This isn't a camp on some ditch in the backside of Faerun anymore, this is your home that you've willingly and foolishly invited a vampire into.
But maybe he was the biggest fool, for he kept holding you close, fangs tucked away as the smell of blood was the least of his interests at this moment. The living really has a captivating way to steal one's attention.
what dreams do you have?
Each night is like a trance, and before he realises, it ends so suddenly when glowing lines of light just below the thick curtains peak on the floor.
It's morning already, but it felt like a second, he wants to hold you for a lifetime, hug you for a century, kiss you for a decade and whisper your name as if it was his last breath.
He wants so many things, he has so many conflicting emotions. Astarion doesn't want to get attached, you're fleeting, mortal, alive and so loveable.
And he is none of these things, at least not in his views.
But after so much misery, he deserves to steal one good thing from the living, you. It doesn't matter if he has earned it or not, you willingly chose him, loved him.
Embraced him as you woke up, eyes sleepy as nuzzled into him further with no regard to how cold his skin might be in contrast to your warm blanket.
"Darling, you know I'm supposed to be the nocturnal one in this relationship, right? Or did you grow fangs during the night." He voice was laced with an unusual softness, a stranger to his own ears.
You grumbled as he pulled away, chasing after him with adorable slow speed with your hand as you attempted to bring him back.
He's not a sadist.
Okay maybe he is.
But torturing a sleepy you, is becoming one of the highlights of his days. It makes waiting here all night worth it.
♡
Shadowheart
Her eyebrows scrunch into the most adorable glare when she first wakes up. The children of Shar and Selune have never been morning people, present or past.
The tips of her ears slightly twitch as the cold morning reaches her after you manage to steal the blanket in your sleep, wrapping the soft thing around you and leaving her to the mercy of the chilly weather.
Stirred from her sleep, she has a half mind to acknowledge how endearing you look besides her. Peacefully in your slumber and unaware of the crime you've commited, letting your beloved freeze to death in the early morning.
With a sigh, Shadowheart reaches over to untangle tha blanket edge from your iron fist as she squeezes herself inside the makeshift cocoon you've assembled. Instant warmth and comfort greeting her the more she pressed her body onto yours.
Despite how heavenly you feel, sleep has already evaded her grasps. Once she wakes up, she's the type not to fall asleep afterwards. Doesn't help how much of a light sleeper she can be at times.
So she closes her eyes and basks in the moment, fully enjoying the presence. The quietness of the morning where the people haven't woken up yet, the stillness of the air, the slow rhythmic breathing as your chest rises and falls.
She wants to trace your face with her fingers, she wants to admire your eyes, but she doesn't want to wake you up so instead her arms gently hug your body closer to hers.
Safety, comfort and love, things she was taught were a sin to desire, things assumed to make her weaker.
But being weak has never felt so good before, if what she's doing is wrong in the eyes of any god, then she might as well embrace her spot in the hells with your arms as her grave.
♡
Gale
He's changing you slowly, and you're not sure if it's for the better or worse.
What started as you teasing him over his cotton pyjamas with cat paw prints, turned into you wearing a matching one after he bought you one and sweetly coerced you into it.
You look so silly. You can't even deny it as you watch your reflection in the mirror. Watching in real time as your dignity evaporates into thin air while your lover is searching for his reading glasses under the bed by using magic to lift it in the back of the mirror reflection.
Turning around, you feel your lips tugging into a smile as you notice the pair of reading glasses pushed up on his head while Gale is scratching his said head and mumbling about how he just had it close by.
Where could it have possibly went, you wonder.
Calling him over, you watch as he adorable walks over to you with a hopeful look that you've somehow found his glasses like you usually do. As if you were the wizard in this situation who'd make it appear out of thin air rather than the academically acclaimed professor Dekarios in front of you.
Your hand cups his face, and he leans into it without question. Planting a small kiss on his lips, you lower his glasses back onto his face as you pull away. Gale's delighted expression rewards you with a second kiss, calling you his hero.
The two of you fall asleep with a dim light illuminating the room, stray magical star enchantments making the bedroom just bright enough for Gale's midnight reading, or midnight paper grading.
You either learn to tough it out or use that equally silly eyemask that came with your cat pyjamas.
Gale's usually the last one to fall asleep, except on weekends when he's in bed by 9. But since tomorrow, he has to be guiding the future generations of wizards in Faerun, you get his wandering hand playing with your hair or massaging your neck as you drift off to sleep.
By the time morning comes, he's tucked in a blanket by your side. Glasses crooked on his face for he forgot to remove them, again.
Reaching over, you gently take them off of him and set them on the bedside table. Giving his forehead a soft kiss as you check the time and see that you still have a quarter of an hour before he has to get ready to leave for work.
You wrap your arms around him, and he leans into your touch. Even while asleep, his body has complete trust in you, recognising your warmth and letting you cuddle him.
It would've been a very romantic early morning cuddling for the two silly people in embarrassing cat pyjamas, wasn't it for the scratching of paws on the locked door of your bedroom.
The sing-song yelling of Gale's last name following shortly, courtesy to Tara announcing to the whole world how you're a minute late to delivering her morning meal and the carrier pigeons outside are starting to look more and more like grilled chicken wings by the second.
#♡shart#♡Halsin#♡Astarion#♡Gale#♡fluff#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3#astarion x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#halsin x reader#fluff#gale dekarios#astarion bg3#Shadowheart#Halsin
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thinking about Megumi, who opens his eyes instantly when his alarm goes off in the morning, but turns it off even faster when he sees you - your head and chest laying heavy on his torso, hair falling out from your messy bun, sleeping like a baby. and apparently drooling a little.
thinking about Megumi, who stiffens, suddenly feeling a huge sense of responsibility for your quality sleep. he really hopes his heart doesn’t beat too loud, especially when it seems to have grown twice in size since you started staying in his apartment more and more often. he didn’t think it’d be as amazing - to wake up next to you (or under you, or inside of you) in his bedroom, a place not many others have seen or even been to. once, just once, he let drunk Itadori sleep there and that was a complete disaster. Megumi likes to keep it simple, quiet and calm, and for some reason his friends are like hurricanes and they just come in, bring on a complete disaster and leave without cleaning up after themselves. you too have brought some chaos into his life - with your pink toothbrush, a concerning amount of face masks and serums you squirrelled away in the drawer in his bathroom and some random pieces of lingerie that get him flustered every time he takes them out of the laundry machine. A warm smile crawls on his face - he hides his arms back under the black sheets and lets them travel gently down your body. he has no idea how you ended up in this position, but feels more than happy to be able to make you feel this good and relaxed. the room is cold, but you are not and Megumi thrives on that feeling.
thinking about Megumi, who gulps as his hands suddenly lose the cotton surface of his T-shirt on you and they end up on your bare skin. you apparently forgot to put on the panties, but that’s more than understandable - that’s the Fushiguro effect for you. and well, you like being a tease. you’re testing him now, not fully aware of that fact, as Megumi closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. it’s quite contradicting - his imagination starts to go a little wild, long, slender fingers brushing against you, barely even, as he’s trying to ignore the growing bulge in his boxers at the same time. unfortunately for Megumi, you’re starting to wiggle, and with the feeling of your lower parts pressing on his morning wood… shit. luckily for you, he’s a gentleman - he’s not going to do anything improper, especially when you’re sleeping. he's not an animal. at least, most of the time.
thinking about Megumi, who's slowly but steadily losing his fight as keeps on caressing your skin, hands sliding to you inner thighs. he closes his eyes - it's unfair. your skin can't be just skin - it's velvet. touching you feels as if he was touching some God-made material, shipped straight from heaven. if he asked you about it you'd probably say something about that overpriced cinnamon body lotion you were so excited to buy, but he wouldn't believe you. he doesn't know what answer would be satisfying, but that just makes him smile again. he's already had his own answer to that.
thinking about Megumi, who groans quietly when you move up his body, hiding your face right into his neck. your wet lips nuzzle the skin right next to his aorta and he can feel the blood pulsing against you. yeah, he's gonna be late, but fuck it. he'll call in sick. this whole situation is, after all, a serious life hazard - if you bit him right there, he could die. Megumi chuckles and closes his eyes with a sleepy grin. if the death has to come one day, he prays it'll look like that. pretty, sleepy, half-naked.
and a little bit drooly.
masterlist ❤️
#megumi x you#Megumi fluff#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen#fushiguro#jjk megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi#fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi imagine#megumi headcanons#megumi drabble#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#megumi smut
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"Well hello there Secret Keeper!" Scar says, chipper. "It's a bea-ut-i-ful day today here on the Secret Life server, and I'm here for my daily hearts for winning! I have to say, it is gorgeous today. Really a lot easier to keep the rain away without other players, what with sleeping through the night not being a problem at all! Did you know, by the way, that sleeping and rain are connected? I didn't until recently, but by golly, they sure are! Can you imagine? The world is full of so many strange things."
The Secret Keeper, being a big dumb stone statue, doesn't reply. Scar's beginning to think it's just rude. It sure replies whenever he hits the button, which is the first step in his morning routine these days. He's gotten better at dodging damage, really, even with the nearly infinite hearts! He's just not so good at dodging skeletons and creepers and such that he shouldn't top off every day.
He hits the button. He feels his health return to him. He gets a new task: Win Secret Life.
He snorts, a little bitter, to himself as he reads it and folds it into his pocket. "You know, I don't know if I'm lucky or unlucky that you're such a moron that you don't know what winning means. Your machine is broken."
No response, again, because the Secret Keeper is, as established, a big old dumb rock. Well, whatever. Besides, if he lingers on resentment and upset for too long, it might catch up with him! He's certainly let it catch up with him before. Why, a few days after he'd won, when he really had it sink in that he was for-real alone on a server covered in lightning burn marks and blood, he had a bit of a breakdown! There was sobbing, screaming, yelling at the world, the whole works! And when no one responded then, well--
"Did I just call you a moron? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!" Scar says. "You know how I get sometimes. The world is beautiful and warm, but sometimes it gets a little hard to breathe around here! Now, where were we... oh, right! The trading post terraforming project! Now, we hit a bit of a snag the other day, what with the wandering traders I'd caught all sort of--dying--and all that, but luckily, more of them might show up any moment, and they really are vital to making the place feel alive and breathing. So today we're taking a break from that to build up some trees!"
He waves his arms like someone is listening. He'd like to imagine someone is. Grian told him he won--just because all the ghosts are quiet now doesn't mean they aren't there! And if that was a moment of temporary insanity, well, he probably--he needs to think it's not, is the thing! He absolutely needs to think it's not.
He hums and gathers more logs. His makeshift tree farms are pretty nice, if he does say so himself. He pauses as he hears distant howling and sighs. "I guess we will also be spending today cleaning up the wolf population! I swear, I have no idea what those people were thinking making a wolf spawner. A man takes a nap for a day and then the entire server is overrun with stupid white animals! And you know, I do hate having to cull the things, but, well, you know me. I've learned how to kill pretty well, I think, and really, dogs are easier to kill than people."
He grabs a sword from his chest and sharpens it. He keeps it perfectly clean so that there isn't too much blood on it. Good thing, too; most of the blood would probably be his. He's a bit clumsy, after all. He cuts his fingers on it all the time. No matter how well he bandages up his hands, he just keeps making them bleed, drip, drip, dripping blood on every path he walks down. No matter how hard he works to clean up his massive building projects, the little splatters of blood follow him, so he's sticking to dark colors where he can.
The flowers will probably show the blood, he thinks. The flowers and trees he's building. Hopefully, the blood doesn't stand out too much. It feels wrong, in a world where there are no bodies.
He stands up. He heads in the direction of today's pack of unwanted pests. He sighs. "You know, I know your question is, well gosh, Scar! All the previous winners died. When are you going to finish it off and kill yourself? And wow, that's a pretty dark question. You should be ashamed of yourself for asking, really." He laughs. It's not funny. Who cares.
Instead, he shakes his head.
"And, well, you have to understand. I'm not done building yet! I can make my base so much nicer looking! And besides, you're still handing me hearts. If I get hurt, I can just come back and get more from you! If you want to die, you have to kill me yourself. You fucking cowards!"
No response.
He sighs. "Well, that's enough of that for today. Sorry, I'm feeling kind of morose. It's all this sunshine! Can't be good for a man. Did you know populated servers rain more often than unpopulated ones? It's true! It's because people don't sleep enough. But here I am, getting all the sleep I need. Now, time to go kill some dogs and build some trees! I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon, can you?"
His hands hurt. He ignores it. He ignores a lot of hurt, these days. It's not like it's hard.
#secret life smp#goodtimeswithscar#a bee fic#implied/referenced suicide#implied/referenced self harm#SO UH. HOW ABOUT THAT SCAR NOT DYING IN THE END NONSENSE HUH.#trying to write this all very much in scar's voice was fun. dark premise. goofy guy. result: this.#also i DO love occasionally giving a character who otherwise wouldn't exactly ONE precision swear-word. very fun.
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"She"
S.H. x Female Reader
Summary: All while you're getting ready for a surprise date, Steve is preparing to tell you for the first time that he loves you.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: mentions of st2-4, bit of a clumsy reader, fluff, dating, mentions of nudity, swearing, Steve just admiring you honestly
Additional Note: Once again, it has been a hot minute since I've written any fanfiction of any kind so please excuse my poor writing 🥲
If there was anything that Steve Harrington had a soft spot for, it was watching you get ready.
From the way you delicately dragged the mascara wand up your eyelashes to the way you always seemed to hum the same melody while spritzing your neck with perfume, it captured his heart every damn time.
This time, in particular, he was antsier. His leg bounced as he sat on your bed, keeping his hands busy by holding onto one of the stuffed animals you kept on your bed. This was a big day for him. For the both of you, though you didn't know it yet.
While you were showering, Steve spent the time rehearsing the scene in his head. He'd take you home after an incredible day, give you a kiss goodnight after walking you to your door like any gentleman would, and just say it. The three words he'd been itching to say anytime he looks at you.
He loved you.
How could he not? You were, in so many ways, perfect for him. Whenever you entered the room, his eyes were always on you. Because of this, he could read you like an open book. He knew that when your eyes would continuously shift around that you were overwhelmed or that when you would chip your nail polish, you were lost in thought. He knew that if he kissed right behind your ear you'd shriek and laugh as you were most sensitive there.
He knew your passions and your hobbies, and you both had already discussed the possible future together. He remembered the way you flushed at the idea of having children together, six no less. To his surprise, you weren't against it and he felt himself falling for you all over again.
"Stevie," You whined as you entered the room, a towel wrapped up on your head and another wrapped around your body. The sight made his breath hitch and his cheeks warm at the sudden sight of you.
God, he wanted to say it so badly.
Swallowing harshly, he found his words. "Yes?" His eyes shifted downward as you raised your leg slightly. A streak of blood was prominent on your calf, causing him to stand from the bed instantly.
"Oh, honey, you've got to be careful with your legs," He frowned, leading you over to your vanity so you could sit and let him take care of you. He kneeled in front of you, his fingers grazing the back of your calf as he raised your leg ever so slightly. You flushed from the position he was in.
"You still have those band-aids I gave you?" He asked as you removed the towel from your damp head of hair before passing it to him.
"Mhm," You turned towards your vanity, opening the middle drawer to pull out the cardboard box. "How many are in there?" He asked as you pulled a sealed band-aid out from the carton. Eyes scanning the contents of the box, you counted around fourteen.
"I'm good on band-aids," You confirmed, handing him the band-aid before returning the box to your drawer.
"Promise?" He asked, using the wet end of the towel to gently wipe away the drying blood on your leg. "Promise." You repeated as he unwrapped the band-aid.
With a soft grin, Steve dried your leg before carefully placing the bandage over the cut. "Does this happen often?" He asked, smoothing out the creases from the band-aid. Really he just wanted an excuse to be close to you, but he wasn't going to tell you that.
You shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess so. I don't mean for it to happen. I just get distracted, I guess." Steve arched an eyebrow. "What distracted you in the shower?" He asked, noting the pout that was forming.
"My boyfriend won't tell me where we're going!" Steve couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, honey, but it's a secret. Just know it's a date." He said as he placed a gentle kiss on your knee before standing. "A surprise date." You reminded him.
"And you know I'm not good with surprises!" You whined and watched Steve as he sat back down on your bed before picking up the teddy bear again.
"I know, but you love them." He teased, causing you to huff before picking up a hair brush.
"Can I guess?"
"You can try," He grinned, now laying on his stomach so he could watch you.
Your eyebrows began to scrunch as you thought about the possibilities. "Rollerskating?" You asked as you started to detangle the ends of your hair. Steve gently shook his head, gazing at you with nothing but adoration.
Picking up the small juice box you had opened earlier, you took the straw between your lips and began to drink what was left of it. "Hm, oh! A picnic?" You guess again, Steve once again shaking his head. "Two strikes. You get one final guess before we get to the car. Are you sure you want to use it now?" He asked, seeing the panic enter your eyes.
"No, I need to think for a while." You admitted, picking up your hair brush again before continuing to contain your already drying hair. "I used my new soap that you got me," your voice carried easily across the room. "Oh, yeah?" Steve asked, standing from the bed. "Mhm, the lemongrass scented one." You stood from the vanity, making your way over to sit beside Steve. He sat up quickly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your neck and bare shoulder.
A soft hum escaped your lips, followed by a yawn. "You smell like lemongrass and sleep." He admitted, making you laugh. "Sleep? I dont think that's a scent, Steve." You told him, leaning your head against his as he rested his chin on you. "Of course it is. I just made it up." He grinned, causing you to shake your head at his playful manner.
"Gotta finish getting ready." You whispered, causing him to whine and wrap you up in his arms. "Steve—!" You yelped as he pulled you down onto the bed, making you squeal as he began to smother your face with kisses. "No, no, Steve!" You laughed, him finding your most sensitive places. He knew just where you were ticklish.
"I'm not doing anything, hon." He said with a cheesy grin. "Yes you are! Steve," You continued to laugh, your breathing becoming rapid as you couldnt catch your breath. "Whats the password?" He asked, fingers delicately moving up and down your rib cage. You writhed underneath him, eyes teary from laughing so hard. "Stevie," You gasped out, his fingers coming to a slow halt.
"Not fair. You know I can't resist that nickname." He hummed, gazing down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your laugh had to be his favorite sound. There was never a day he didn't make you laugh. Anytime you were happy, he found himself suddenly in a better mood. Your smile had that effect on him. Your laugh had it too. But most importantly, you had that effect.
Once you had caught your breath, you simply laid with him. "Gonna let me get dressed now?" You whispered, looking up at him as your own fingers began to trace him. You focused on each mole, practically playing connect the dots on his arms. Steve chuckled a little. "I can't tell if you actually want to get ready," He joked, noticing that you weren't even budging. Though the moment he said that, you moved.
"I do! You keep distracting me," You pouted a little, though it was a playful one. You made your way over to your dresser, opening a drawer. "Does it matter what kind of undergarments I wear?" You asked with an arched brow, causing Steve to chuckle. "Whatever you're most comfortable in, baby." He hummed before grabbing the teddy bear again.
It was from your second date together. Hawkins was hosting its very own carnival in the town square and Steve thought it would be a great date opportunity for you both. He promised he'd win you a prize and ended up with a backseat covered in stuffed animals. Steve wasn't sure what you'd do with them all, so you decided to donate them. However, this teddy bear was your favorite of them all so you kept it. Steve wasn't sure why, so he decided it was time to ask.
"Hon?"
"Hm?" You asked as you put them on. It wasn't anything Steve hadn't seen before so you went back to your vanity to begin drying your hair.
"You never told me why you kept beary." He said, returning his attention to you. You were already looking at him, a soft smile growing.
"He was the first prize you won for me. Thought he deserved to be kept to cherish the memory." You explained, plugging the hairdryer in. Steve's heart practically melted from your words. "Really? I didn't think he meant that much."
"Are you kidding? Stevie, I could tell just how much you wanted to prove to me that you would win him. And it wasn't to try and look cool or something either. I knew you were just trying to make sure I had a good time. But what you didn't understand was that I always have fun when I'm with you. No matter what it is we're doing."
Steve held the plush to his chest now, suddenly overcome with your words.
"I love you."
The room was overcome with immediate silence, quickly followed by the blow dryer slipping from your grasp and landing on your toe. You gasped and instantly shot up from the chair you sat in. "Fuck!" You couldn't help but swear. Steve sprang up from the bed in a sudden panic.
"I'm sorry! God, I'm so so sorry! This is my fault, I shouldn't have—" He huffed a bit before lifting you bridal style and gently sitting you down on your bed. "I'm fine, Steve, I'm fine!" You promised, biting your lip to ease the pain in your foot.
Steve quickly kneeled to inspect your foot, noticing that your toe had really only turned a few shades darker. Hopefully, it wouldn't bruise. "Scale of one to ten?"
"A six." You answered, watching as he further set into panic.
Steve sprinted downstairs, ignoring the questioning looks your parents gave him as he stumbled into the kitchen to grab an ice pack. He then flew back up the stairs, panting as he reached you again. "Here," He said, hands fumbling as he put the ice bag on your foot. "Better?"
"Better." You said, watching him with concern. Noticing that you were staring, Steve asked, "What?" while trying to catch his breath. That is until he saw your lip begin to quiver. "Oh no, no, honey. Please don't cry. I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have startled you like that." He apologized, wiping the tears as they began to fall. Steve cupped your cheeks gently, gazing at you.
"Steve-"
"Oh, princess, look!" He exclaimed, seeing your toe was still no longer the color that it was before. "Let me keep holding the ice here to make sure it doesn't swell, yeah?" He gently pressed, making you wince a little, but your foot was the least of your worries.
"Steve..." You trailed off, hoping to capture his attention this time. "I know, I know, but sometimes you say you're fine when you're not. So, it is my job as your boyfriend to make sure that you are taken care of." He smiled, gently rubbing the back of your calf.
"Steve." You finally said in a tone that was stern enough for him to look up. His eyes were laced with concern, searching yours for any signs of what he did wrong. You smiled softly before shakily cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning forward.
Liking where this was going, Steve met you halfway, lips sealing with yours.
He shifted, cradling your head as the kiss turned more passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. You hummed against his lips, fingers finding their way into his hair which you tugged gently. Steve groaned, his hands beginning to travel...that is until you gently held his wrists.
He parted from the kiss, confused as to why you stopped him. Oh, but he was met with that adorable smile and flushed face he couldn't resist. "Sweetie?" He asked, wondering why you wouldn't let him continue.
You parted your lips, almost hesitant to say what you wanted, but you took a deep breath and held Steve's hands. "I love you too, Steve." You admitted, blinking a little quickly to rid of the tears that were beginning to form.
He stared at you, unsure if he believed what he was hearing. The girl he loved more than anything, the girl he'd die for, the girl he'd kill for...loved him too. Steve began to realize that it didn't matter what he said or where he said it. The only thing that mattered was that you made him happier than he ever thought he could be.
"Steve, please say something."
He wasn't exactly sure what to do. His heart was racing, his palms were a little sweaty, and all he could think about was ways he could say thank you.
Your eyebrows furrowed, confused. "Why-?" But before you could finish your question, you were being tackled onto the bed in a warm embrace. You squealed in surprise, laughing as you held each other. He kissed all over your face, speaking between kisses. "How did I get so lucky?"
His fingers, once again, found their way to your ribcage, making your legs kick. "Noooo! Steve Harrington, you let me go this instant!" You begged, laughing between words. Steve couldn't help but laugh as well. "Not until I hear those words leave your pretty little mouth again." He grinned mischievously.
"Okay, okay! I love you! I love you! I love you!" You exclaimed, getting louder each time you said it. He finally stopped tickling you, allowing you to catch your breath. "I love you, Steve Harrington." You said more seriously this time, making him grin from ear to ear.
"I love you too, dollface. Now...let's get you ready for our date, yeah?"
The End.
#Spotify#stranger things x reader#steve stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#fluff#harrington#steve
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Aphrodesiacs Pt.8
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?
*sigh* let me just feed my starving children. consider this my girl dinner to you all. fully feeding u this time. the day has finally come (in more ways than one)
NSFW AS ALWAYS (but pls extra caution on this one, i got carried away and i don’t want to spoil the surprise) 18+
also i was gonna finish this series at 10 chapters but pls lmk if u want more!
It was far too late to function. You were pulling on many mental threads as you sprawled out on your bed.Sighing into the empty, overly spacious air of your room didn't alleviate anything, you were still wearing Miguel's shirt.
The streetlights dimmed into your room, the warm glow offering nothing to help fix this crack that resided in you. Tossing and turning wasn't helping, your limbs fluctuating from rigid to limp whenever you thought about Miguel. Your sheets were hurled to the floor and your half-naked form contorted at every angle on the bed, nothing was comfortable and you couldn't sleep. Your mind buzzed awake from the lightning shooting down your thighs whenever you inhaled, his shirt was so big on you but it smelled so good, and the fact that he let you just have it.
It smelled like him, his cologne, his natural ambiance, his musk. You rubbed your naked thighs together.
You couldn't help but sigh breathlessly and throw your head back into the pillow, whining at how stimulated you were just by inhaling. For fucks sake. Since when were you this pathetic? You almost wanted to bite into your pillow out of sheer aggression. Today was a cluster fuck of emotions, your lips still felt the tingle of him, your tongue was against his enough that you could still feel him exploring when he wasn't even there. It was like a ghostly touch, tracing against the most sensitive parts of your body. You still couldn't believe that he had finally kissed you, he had finally given in to such a disastrous impulse that he so constantly warned you about. Your pussy fluttered at the fact you affected him enough to go against everything he believed in, that you meant that much to him. The pulse under your heated skin sent your body into an unshakable overdrive.
Miguel tasted like testosterone, anger, and sex. The way you were just pressed against him had slick forming between your thighs. You were so ready for him. You've always been ready for him. The way he gave you a tiny fraction of what he was going to do- what he was prepared to do...well before Peter had to cockblock you into oblivion. He was going to fuck you on the sink like an animal. Hot and Heavy. But then Miguel had to go back into his old ways.
Your throat was raw, and constantly groaning in frustration was a default setting at this point but it was getting worse and worse. You draped your forearm over your eyes, involuntarily arching your back against the mattress and spreading your legs as your stomach lurched. Your pussy would drown in his cum. That seemed to be the last straw. The canines of your teeth dug into your bottom lip at a depth that pierced the blushed tenderness of your lips, tiny holes turned into splits as blood pooled inside of your mouth and slightly dribbled to the outskirts of your mouth and chin.
“Fuck…” You winced out, more pained by the thought of Miguel leaving you unfulfilled than the pulsating of your lips bitten raw.
-
Miguel was aimless, ice doused his heated veins as he swung from building to building. He attempted to convince himself that he was in your universe for any other reason he could get, he was particularly good at lying to himself but in this case, it wasn't. The most honest thought he's had in months is knowing that he wants you.
Miguel knew where he needed to be right now. With you. He hated how he left you in the bathroom, part of him wanted to fuck you while anyone watched, just to show them who you belonged to. But he could never do that.
He groaned as he whacked through the air, his fingers smashing against his neck to get rid of the mask. He felt claustrophobic like you were subconsciously taking away his ability to breathe. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. You had steel in your spine and that only fueled the flames of desire that were lit in him long ago. The roaring fire in your eyes every time you laid into him made him hard as ever, no woman has ever been stupid enough to question him- and then there was you. At HQ you were the perfect picture of cool elegance and competence, you weren't as fun-loving as the others and nowadays Miguel felt like he had pulled that out of you. Miguel frowned at the thought. Your presence evoked an unwanted heat in his gut and a leaking cock to go with it, and he didn't even fucking like you, he just had to deal with you. But now, after all this, you were the name he'd call in the middle of the night. His entitled, needy, girl. He couldn't take two steps without Jess or Lyla gushing to him about how lovely you were
It was galling.
Maybe he could marry you. Fuck you full of his kid.
Jesus Christ.
Miguel squashed the thought with a grimace and a shake of his head. With a grunt he landed on the side of your apartment building, using his claws to dig into the brick, subtIty was never his play but in this certain situation, it was completely off the board. He had no idea what he was going to say to you or if he was going to see you at all he just needed to be near you. He wanted to see those eyes darken in pleasure again, if that's all he could get from a kiss, he couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what would happen when he was actually in you. He knew he drew near when the scent of you clouded his brain, he quickly hung from the side of the building until he got to a large window, it was cracked open slightly. Windswept hair made tufts of his hair impair his vision, Miguel peeked his face to get a glance at the window it was your bedroom window.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, sweet face buried in your hands, hair tumbling down your shoulders, contemplating something for a second before standing up.
He could smell how wet you were. Maybe one day he could pour wine all over you, cum on you and then taste it off your sweet body.
He bit the bullet. He raised a pointer finger and tapped his talon on the glass. The moonlight outside kissed your face perfectly, but he did notice some red around your lips- he didn't know what it was.
His mouth dried as his gawk fell to what you were wearing- you were still wearing his shirt. Fuck
You hummed in irritation, thinking your sex-filled mind was making you hear things. Your heart sank at the wave of shock when your gaze accidentally flitted to your window. Then you saw it. Your tongue ground into your jaw, waves of shock reaching every corner of your already fire-tinged body- but now every single cell was about to sizzle into thin air. All this time, it felt like you were both dancing with your hands tied. Your pulse pounded in your ears when you saw him, eyes wide and concerned but ultimately fucking elated. It was like God answered your prayers just this once. You stood up from sitting, a random burst of adrenaline licking at your knuckles, you were practically shaking and Miguel was more than happy with that.
The sight of Miguel's face could make you cream: that black hair, olive skin, taut muscles, and brooding attitude made for complete devastation in a spider suit. You watched like a dumbfounded idiot as Miguel pried the window open and crawled through, he wormed into your room and stood up tall just taking a beat to drink you in.
Damn.
He thought you looked fucking incredible in a bikini, but here you were, standing there with a vacant doe-eyed look wearing nothing but his shirt. He doesn't think he's ever been this aroused just looking at someone.
Miguel raised an eyebrow to see blood on your lips, trailing a little down to your chin as you blinked up at him. He inched closer and raised his hand, his fingers slightly cupping your chin to meet his scorching, worried gaze.
“What happened here?” He asked softly, his breath was warm and honeyed, a stark contrast to the Miguel you've always known. That cool bleak demeanour cracked for a split second.
“You.” Leaning into his touch proved to be easy, you melted into his fingertips, lips parted and eyes needy as the man you've been fantasizing about for so long was touching you again, but it felt more meaningful than the last. Miguel's eyes were the clearest you've ever seen, a tinge of red gleaming against the burgundy of the outer rim. The way you uttered that word sent a shudder spiraling through him, you were both affecting each other so much- that first kiss only fueled the ever-increasing wildfire.
“What are you doing to me…?” Miguel whispered. He was asking himself that question too: what were you doing to him? He's driven himself crazy, utterly mad over this dance of death he called morality and ethics. You were holding your breath, scared that if you gave into the natural urge to breathe, you'd moan out his name.
“You never finished telling me all the things you wanted to do to me.”
“If I told you all of the things I wanted to do to you...we'd be sitting here all weekend talking and then I'll never be able to show you exactly what's been running through my head every hour of every day, the reason why I can’t sleep, why I can’t fuck my fist without thinking of you.” Miguel inched closer and cupped your face with both hands, smoothing out your soft skin, your palms fell onto his hands too.Just touching each other softly. Miguel was still afraid. He was afraid of hurting you, and losing himself, he's already not in control when it comes to you. You sighed out at his vulgar words and you were ready to get on your knees.
You stood in silence, gawking at each other intensely. You scoffed to yourself, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip as the corners of your mouth upturned to a smirk.
“That would be quite inconvenient.”
“Yes, it would carinõ.” Miguel hummed lowly, definitely understanding the effect the pet name had on you. Miguel thought your snarkiness would be the death of him by now but here you are, being so compliant. His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, teasing it into your mouth. Your eyes grew wider as his thumb massaged your tongue For easier access, you just stuck your tongue out, licking and sucking on it every so often. He had dreamed about this day but he never fully thought what it would really be like once he gave in.
Miguel's pretty features were locked in a state of vacant yet concentrated drunken smugness. Anger played at his brows, creasing the olive skin around it, his stare was piercing, looking at you as if you were both a diety that needed to be worshipped and a dirty slut that was begging to be pounded- he sighed at the thought, he was beginning to slowly lean in. Your free hand went to the fangs that he was baring, your fingers prodded at the sharp point, slurring completely drunk off of his presence.
“These are spikey...I love it.”
“This is so wrong.” He muttered against your lips, feeling the explicable sensation of hot and heavy lust sparking between your lip.
“Tell me how wrong it is then.” You nipped at his bottom lip, making his eyes flutter closed.
That was it.
A sickening crunch ripped inside of him.
A chain loose of its hinges.
His muscles coiled inside of him, reaching their apex, and now his restraint was seeping between his fingers until there was nothing left in his hands...except you.
Shock, hope, fear, elation, and uncertainty all mingled together on his face until they were indistinguishable from each other. He blinked for a second and then his eyes mixed both black and red, midnight specks in the violent pool of red. He was angry and so hard. Frustration overrode his guilty conscious. Fury carved harsh lines across Miguel's face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension by the moonlight. His eyes simmered with a slow-burning desire, the type that snuck up and annihilated him before he knew it.
Miguel had always been intimidating, but at that moment, he looked like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution. Arousal leaked out of you at that look. The air sharped with dense tension and desire, enough that it finally yanked him out of his frozen stupor. Time suspended for a brief, agonizing moment, just long enough for your breath to become his.
Miguel yanked your arm away from him and curled it behind your back, your soft gasp making drool form at the back of his throat. His other hand gripped your chin and at that moment he saw thunder in your eyes. “I'd rather fuck you instead.” Uncertainty evaporated from his voice, leaving nothing but satin and smoke in its wake.
His mouth shattered against yours, finding its rightful place in your mouth. Home. You thought his last kiss was good, but this was ferocity at its most unhinged. You had succumbed to the skillful assault on your senses.
Your body was molded to his, all hard muscles under the holographic suit. Your mouth was like a pure shot of heroin- the forbidden fruit that he was restraining himself for was now all his to devour, his to savor. The first kiss was passionate but impulsive. This... was sticky and wet, saliva mingling with saliva, this was primal and addicting. Miguel's worries melted into nothing, for now, he was fucking delighted that your body instinctively curved against his, seeking more contact like a horny virgin. His lips left yours to breathe, a rough calloused breath shot out of his throat, as his mouth fell to your jaw, kissing and sucking so fucking hard, desperate to mark you.
“Miguel…” You moaned out in failed protest, the word rolled like heaven off of your tongue. You were made to moan his name.
“I'm going to wreck this tight cunt..”
“Listen, listen...I'm bad. I'm a bad girl. Now I'm making you bad..” You whispered in his ear, yelping a little when he bit down hard on the skin of your jaw. You felt the indents of his teeth.
“Carinõ...I'm not a good man, you know that.” His eyes wildly found yours again, his face hardening like granite, his steely resolve thrumming in the air around you.
You begged to differ, but you didn't want to think about that right now.
Miguel shoved you on the bed, manhandling you by being completely careless of where you landed.
“Miguel!” You whined like a kicked bitch in heat, it felt so humid in your room, you scrambled to get your- well, his- top off. Miguel stood up straight and gawked at you from the foot of your bed, waiting like a hungry predator. You discarded the shirt so you were completely naked on your bed, shining and glimmering in the pale moonlight, skin as soft as fresh silk. Your chest rose and fell with every rapid breath, Miguel's eyes were clouded in the dark hellfire that is desperation when you spread your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, tilting your chin down to glare at him with impossibly sizzling fuck me eyes. Miguel's heartbeat pummeled to the tip of his leaking cock at the sight of you in such an impossibly filthy position- free for him to use, fuck and bite however he pleases. He glanced at your hands and your fingers were ripping up the sheets under you, spotlighting the tension and swirling heat in your cunt. He was like a kid in a candy store, your pussy was leaking, the clear sticky liquid running down your thighs.
“Every time you speak, this is what happens.” Your tone was dead serious and the expression on your face was stony- you were definitely not toying with him now. You were just too eager for that.
Miguel's eye twitched. Without warning, he grabbed your ankles and pulled them to the edge of the bed, you gasped softly when you felt your legs dangle out, Miguel was between your thighs, glaring down at you with a demanding instinct.
“Sit up straight.” He ordered coldly, you felt a new wave of wetness form between your folds at his words.
You did what you were told, eyes piercing against his, challenging each other but it was obvious who had the upper hand.
Oh…the things Miguel could do to you in this position. The things he wanted to do, x-rated scenarios reeled through his head. You blinked up at him with doe eyes, wide and needy. His needy, desperate girl. A hint of a wicked smile played on his lips. Miguel smashed a few buttons on his watch and his holographic suit disintegrated off. Your eyes scanned his golden olive skin, his body was sculpted with such perfection you expected to find Michelagelo's signature embossed on his V-line. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest. A faint dusting of black hair that tapered down to…
Oh fuck.
His cock was staring at you right in the face, jutting out, huge and hard- 11 inches for sure at least. It curved to the side, a thick vein bulging out of the underside, an angry red tip leaking pre-cum. The mere idea sent twin frissons of apprehension and anticipation spiraling down the deepest pit of your stomach. You gawked blankly at his dick, mouth open wide and eyes outspread. It felt like you'd never even seen one before. Well, you had never seen his before.
That fucking face, that gape. He was going to frame it in his office and fuck his fist under the desk staring at it.
There was no way he'd fit. It would be impossible.
“Oh my…God.” You mumbled under your breath
When you finally dragged your gaze back up to his, Miguel's eyes were already laser-focused on you, dark and smoldering with a banked heat that you were sure could crumble you to dust. His hand gripped your cheeks, ensuring that your eyes were on him without hesitation. Miguel smiled crookedly when he spotted the slivers of saliva hanging from your bottom lip, quite literally drooling over his cock absentmindedly. He loved how dumb he’s got you already.
"Aww querida...I always seem to think about my own suffering, yet I neglect yours the most.” His tone had slivers of mockery in it, and tears pricked in your eyes.
“Yes. You do. So just fuck me already.” You scowled, pretty eyebrows tensing and creasing when he planned on stretching out such a momentous occasion. If anything it should be you punishing him for the amount of times he had denied you of the very thing that kept your soul alive.
Hypocritical son of a bitch.
Miguel harshly let go of your face and slapped your cheek with his dick, your face whipped to the side due to the sheer force of such an obscene thing- he definitely caught your attention now, undermining his authority never sat well and it regurgitated back onto you tenfold. You blinked up at him, the surprise hitting you like a brick and making you choke out the breath you forgot you were holding, your cheek heated red as the stickiness smeared slightly. You were about to internally combust, for such vulgarity to feel that good.
"All you do is fucking talk.” Miguel snarled at you gruffly, the force behind it sounded very real.
“I'm prepping you, getting you all wet so you can at least take about half of me.” You wanted to kick him in the face and make his fangs stick into the walls of his gums and snap them. He really thought you wouldn't be able to take him? Well, a few minutes ago you thought it would be quite frankly impossible to take his sheer size but now since he doubted you...you thought otherwise, wildly determined didn't even begin to cover it.
You cocked a condescending eyebrow at his incredibly smug statement. “I'm wet enough! We were practically designed to fuck each o-!“
Miguel cut you off, waiting for the opportunity when your mouth was wide enough to just shove his cock in. And he did just that. He grinned and let out a low rumbling chuckle at your pathetic and dumb demeanor, who knew a woman who viewed herself so highly could end up being so damn bendy for someone else. Your eyes pricked glassy mirrorball tears, he almost saw his own smug reflection in them, that beautiful surprised look on your face needed to be painted and sold for millions. Your mouth was so warm, so wet, bucketfuls of spit spilling on his cock as you sucked, glaring him right in the pupils of his midnight rings. Miguel's lips flipped to a pretty smile as he watched you struggle to take him all. Your tongue was flat on his tip but what was really jarring was the barely there touches you'd flick onto the sensitive slit, causing him to be unable to repress his animalistic grunt. He could've cum right then and there just from how your mouth felt alone, but he had to endure- he couldn't be known for lasting 5 seconds.
“Yes, we were. You're exactly right.” He gritted through his grinding jaw.
This was exactly what you dreamed of, the spark that lit the flames of desire that licked at the very essence of your soul. It just felt so right. He was so thick and he tasted so good, his natural musk clouded your nostrils, and your throat flexed to take him that much more. One more jerk and he was sure he was going to cum.
Woah, easy. Easy.
Miguel's eyes shot open as you hummed around him appreciatively.
He really thought you couldn't do it. You'd show him that he meant jack shit. There was something so heady about the idea of making a man like Miguel fall to your mercy. You could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever.
You slid him down your throat a little more. He put his fist in your hair to jerk your head around but you scratched and slapped them away earning nothing but a breathless, accusing scoff from him.
“You'll choke.” It was a half-assed warning and a half-assed patronizing joke. A hint of wariness crept into his voice when you finally gripped the base of his cock with two hands. The sensation tinged his nerve endings in heat, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth.
You didn't care, your eyes tangled with his as if you were saying ‘You think I can't? Watch me.’ You slid him all down your throat, hitting the very back of it. You whimpered tasting the salty sweetness before you swirled your tongue from side to side, bobbing your head up and down, suckling softly at first before fucking him hard with your tongue. Jesus Christ, his mind was exploding with static heat- he was trying to conceal his chest from heaving but he couldn't.
Fuck.
This was most definitely the best blowjob he's ever had, you had this twist-and-jerk technique that was truly remarkable. Miguel raised his eyebrow, dumbfounded by your skill but then a wicked smile slashed through that.
What a pretty little slut. His pretty little slut.
“You feel so good. You're...fuck. You're fucking perfect for me...” Miguel moaned drunkenly, unable to control his lips from moving. He's never been this sensitive before, every barely there touch elicited a new wave of pleasure. Pain and pleasure blurred into one at this point. The compliment made you wetter if that was even a possibility.
“I'm gonna...Mierda...g'na...I'm gn'a cum.” He could barely string together a sentence, a coil snapped inside of him, the coil that has been tightening ever since he met you.
Miguel pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked himself off, cumming on your chest, creating a pearl necklace with his hot salty cum, dripping all down your tits to your stomach. His face creased into a desperate wince as he groaned from the deep chasms of his gut, a rumble as he released all over you. Your gasp was helpless and he wanted to hear that specific sound all night, it turned into his favorite music. This was the most gratifying and fulfilling orgasm he's ever had. He opened his eyes after they screwed shut, peeking through to see the mess he made on his fist and your body...and there you were looking like a sculpture, something akin to a Greek goddess, leaning back slightly, hair touselled and messy, skin glowing. He could finish again at the sight alone. His sex drive was insatiable.
“Still think I'm in need of prepping?” You chided, embarrassingly pleased with yourself at proving him wrong.
You didn't have any time to lose, your mouth was wrapped around him again.
You retracted a hand from the base of his leaking cock and let them slide down your thighs before your nimble fingers edged to your hot cunt. Your index finger found your swollen clit, rubbing it for a single second, feeling a small fraction of delicious pain before his glare caught you red-handed. Miguel's blood reared at the blurry sight, he gripped your hair again with his white hot fist and pulled you off of his cock, drooling-invisible strings of cum and spit connecting you together. He took a moment to admire you at your most beautiful, heated cheeks, swollen pink lips dribbling into a lazy smile
Miguel grew indignant in a matter of nanoseconds.
“No. Don't you dare think about touching. You've done more than enough yourself.” He grunted like a boar. He used your hair like a leash and threw you back flat on the bed, breasts bouncing at the action. You pouted as he crawled on top of you, his heavy weight being a welcome invite to your body, his cock slapped against your stomach and you could feel his skin turn wet due to your drenched mound. “I said don't give me that look.” He said seethingly. The feeling of his skin on yours was making you intensely needy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking yourself in your new favorite position: under him.
“Please...Miguel. I need you, I'm desperate for you, I'm tired of waiting for you, I've been ready for you for so long…” A desperate plea ripped away from your throat in a choked sob. Miguel had never seen your eyes emanate such honesty and sincerity, glowing in the pale moonlight- you weren't making a glib or clippy joke about this. It was as honest as you could get.
Miguel's eyes darkened as your words fell on his ears, slurring at your incessant whining. “Mi nina necesitada…” He hummed under his breath. “So cockdrunk already?”
You had been dying to let him roam your body freely, doing whatever he pleased, a breathy moan escaped from your parted lips when his apathetic hand traced the curves of your body, goosebumps strangely patterning your heated skin. Miguel crashed his lips against yours again, his fangs snagging against your mouth and his teeth clinking against yours. It was messy and sloppy, spit against spit, tongue against tongue. His hands palmed your tits, feeling them before his talons pinched and rolled your already-sensitive nipples. Pulling and playing with them, snarling and grinning crookedly against your lips as he swallowed your moans.
“I'm gonna cum..” You breathed softly but Miguel was not having it. “Miguel...if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum.” You warned him but it landed on deaf ears.
"You're gonna cum on my cock.” He corrected you unkindly before chuckling lowly. “My sweet sensitive cunt.”
Before you knew it, Miguel gritted his teeth, you didn't have time to do anything more than gasp before his length slid into you so easily, hitting that spot that made him realize you were right: you were designed to fit each other, designed to fuck each other
“Fuck...Oh my god...” You moaned out loudly.
He filled you up to the hilt with only one thrust. You only had a few seconds to adust before one hand was on your neck and the other gripped your hip and slammed you up and down on his cock, hard, while he drove down inside of you. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, you were getting embarrassed at the whines and moans, and attempting to conceal them with your fist wasn't helpful either. You threw your head back into the mattress, exposing more skin on your neck for his palm to grip.
“Be loud. Let me hear you.” He demanded coolly, his steely resolve shattering just from watching your swollen lips turn into a full-blown gape. You gave in to his instruction and let yourself moan without shame. Miguel manhandled you and threw you about sloppily again and again, harder and faster until your knees buckled.
His fangs ground together, threatening to shatter the pearly whites he was known for as he watched your body contort. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. He saw his cock bulge under the skin of your stomach and it was just another lightning bolt that was the thunderstorm between you two. You whined when he grabbed your knees and pushed them into your chest, smooshing your breasts together, allowing him better access to pump you full.
Miguel knew you were on birth control but he couldn't help but feel disappointed about it. He disguised it as a throwaway thought
“You can't even begin to understand how bad I've wanted you.” Your tongue slipped out, reiterating the same thing as always: your desperation.
“Tell me I'm the best you ever had.” He growled brutally, staring down at you, watching your hair nuzzle into the pillow. Your nails dug crescents into his back, probably enough to draw blood if you angled it another way.
"You're the best I've ever had!” You screamed back, begging to finish. “Please...you're the best I've ever had.” You cried out, eyes welling up with tears, streaking down your warm face making Miguel even more aroused. Miguel felt so dirty and depraved, but that's the kind of man he was. He wasn't a good man at all.
You clung onto him for dear life as he rutted in and out violently, you threw your head back into the pillow, his talons were sure to leave indents on your neck, and you drooled at the idea. Your body felt nothing more than a mass of sensation and nerve as you matched his rhythm and grinding your swollen clit up against him: like you were made for each other. It was like you were sucking the soul out of him.
“You need to get used to being fucked like this because I'm not leaving you alone for the entire weekend Hermosa.” Miguel declared with a snarl and it felt like the world was tipped on its axis. “My pretty little cumslut, eh?”
That's all it took.
One promise.
One last final rub of your clit.
Your mouth fell open to a silent scream, but then Miguel glared at you- instructing you to be loud. So you did. Your pussy gushed onto him and your throat ripped out a pornographic moan, the sound echoed into every nook and cranny of your being- it was an out-of-body experience, both a complete cleansing and a complete dirtying of the person you've become. You've never cum that hard, ever. It was so powerful and all-consuming that it drowned out every sound other than Miguel's heavy breathing. He was still pounding into you, chasing his second release of the night. His dick twitched when he saw your face look so blissed out, stars burst behind his eyes as his dick pulsated. Miguel threw his head back and spurted inside of you, before pulling out, spurting again, and then plugging his dick back in.
You were both panting messes, sweat rolling off of your skin as if you had just finished a marathon. Your faces were inches away from each other, gawking at each other vacantly, eyes wide and glittering with that after-sex aura. Silence clawed into the atmosphere, all you could do was stare at each other, silently saying ‘I can't believe we just did that’
Miguel leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “I meant what I said. I'm not letting you leave” The contrast between his gentle kiss and his filthy words made you feel limp.
-
i feel like this was lowkey self serve bc all i want to do is give miguel head LOL .
i also just have to say another thank u to all the people who love this series! i’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you guys like the way i write miguel. thank u so much! i love u
-
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#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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Of Wolf And Man - Part 4
Poly TF141 x f!reader
Series Masterlist
TW: MDNI 18+, monsterfucking, hurt/comfort, angst, knotting, fingering, animal injury, p in v, blood
Winter
Snow begins to fall outside, collecting against the window panes of the cottage and dusting the bare branches of the dormant plants in the garden you planted. You stand and watch, sipping on the mug of tea in your hand. It’s been a couple of weeks since you left the Pack’s den and you haven’t seen them since, not hide nor hair, literally. A few times you heard them howl, far off up on the hills, the sound even more chilling than usual and you felt it was filled with despair. But that was probably just your own guilty conscience, you told yourself.
You’d struggled to keep the cottage warm, no matter how hot the fire burned in the hearth or the range boiled, a deep chill cut into your bones all day and night. Another punishment, you told yourself, the cottage hates you now and wants you to go too. Price’s words play over and over in your head, echoing amongst the drafty rafters of the cottage “money over Pack… money over Pack.”
In an effort to occupy yourself you dragged the box full of handwritten notes downstairs in front of the fireplace, determined to read everything it contains now you have no distractions. No one wanting you to walk the forest with them, no one wanting you to stop what you’re doing and just lay with them, no one trying to make you laugh. The loneliness is like nothing you’ve ever felt and you grasp at the only distraction you have.
You’d only managed to get through a fifth of what was held when you first found the box. To try and make sense of the contents you pull everything out and arrange the bundles chronologically, so you can read in some kind of order.
It took a few days to get through everything, and by the end you were exhausted.
One entry kept repeating over and again in your mind, from a man who had lived here in the early 1800s. He wrote in flowing, ink script that he had been told of a local woodsman chopping wood and his axe had slipped in his palms, bouncing from the block and into his leg. Price and two others from the Pack were there instantly, treating his wound and saving his life. Similar acts were repeated through the years by many other local people, they’d helped when fires had ravaged homes, protected the town during conflict and always, always been there. There was no need for the Pack to intervene, but they did, because it was the right thing to do.
You’d accused them of being selfish, self serving, and nothing could be further from the truth. You’d really fucked up. They wanted you to stay with them, and you knew deep down you wanted to stay too.
Stood at the window, lost in your melancholy thoughts, a movement catches your eye outside and you glance up just to see the tip of a tawny tail disappear. Your heart leaps into your throat and you scramble to the front door of the cottage, ripping it open in time to see a four legged shape moving into the trees beside the cottage.
“Wait! Please, wait!” You yell, throwing dignity to the wind as you jog out into the falling snow, slippers instantly soaked in the cold drift on the track. It’s for naught though, as you trudge into the trees and lose sight of whoever it was and the tracks stop. With a defeated sigh you turn to go back to the cottage, cold and wet for no good reason now, but behind you, you find Johnny’s wolf sat on a fallen tree watching you. A small hiccup of a sob escapes your throat, and he whines in response.
“Johnny,” you croak, unsure how to say what you want to say. “I’m sorry,” you give up and say weakly.
His tail thumps a few times against the log, and he whines again, licking at his muzzle. You get the feeling he wants to come to you but he is holding back, most likely on Price’s orders.
“I assume I wasn’t meant to see you, but I’m really glad I did. I miss you all and I’m so sorry for what I said…” the floodgates burst and you begin to sob, shoulders shaking with the hurt and guilt filling you. With a loud whine Johnny breaks and rushes over, standing up as he nears you in human shape.
“Shhhh… dinnae cry,” Johnny whispers and wraps you in his arms, holding you tightly against his bare chest. “C’mon, let’s get you back inside. You’re not built for the cold like this.”
Clinging to him you let him guide you back into the cottage, the fire crackling and suffusing the air with a comforting warmth. The werewolf fusses over you and gets you near the fire to warm up, sitting on the rug beside you and holding you tightly.
“Can you imagine what it’s like?” He asks you carefully, as though speaking to a child almost. “To live as long as we do, and fall in love with humans and lose them over and over again?” The words are a crushing weight on your chest, mixing with everything you already feel.
“I can imagine it’s a horrible burden, almost better not to fall in love at all,” you answer.
“What? An’ live a thousand years in isolation, fuck that,” he scoffs. “This cottage draws people in, special people. It was here well before Price, we think his Da’ built it but there’s no way to know. It’s linked to his pack and wants people here who deserve love.”
You stare into the fire, its warmth seeping into your bones like it used to. There is undoubtedly something unusual about the cottage, something that almost makes it feel like a living thing in its own right.
“How do I apologise?” You ask.
“Carefully, he’s been a nightmare since you left. He all but trashed the den.”
Several heartbeats of silence pass as you thoughtfully stared into the flames of the fireplace, your head resting gently on his shoulder. You twist and worry at the hem of your jumper as you think to yourself what you should be doing.
“Johnny, I’m not leaving,” you say, staring at the twisted fabric in your fingers.
“What?” he says, dumbfounded by your change of heart.
“I want to stay,” you say, looking him in the eye and smiling weakly.
“Are ya sure?” he asks, taking your face in his hands and staring hopefully into your eyes. “Really sure, hen?” You smile at his reaction, your tear stain cheeks warming in the glow of his happiness.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. In a blur you find yourself pinned to the rug under Johnny as he covers your face with kisses.
“Oh this is perfect, you won’t regret it,” he mumbles against your skin. “C’mon, we have to go and tell Price before he breaks anything else.”
You changed into outdoor clothes and walking boots, and follow Johnny in his wolf form up the trail. He bounds around you, tail wagging the entire time, nearly knocking you over as he shares his joy. You move into the deeper part of the forest the bottom of the hill below the den
The track is thick with snow as you follow behind Johnny, his paws making light work of it as you trudge along. The snow falls more thickly, sounds deadened in the air by the falling flakes and the forest has an eerie quiet to it. It feels as though the world is holding its breath, waiting for something. That’s when Johnny slows, hackles raised as he scents the still air.
Voices drift through the trees and your heart sinks as you recognise them. Too late, you see them walking between the thick trunks of the oaks, it’s the two trappers carrying heavy packs loaded undoubtedly with wolf traps again.
As soon as they spot you and Johnny they freeze, and the man thrusts his hand into his coat pocket, emerging again with a pistol.
“You again?!” The woman yells. “Fucking hurry up and shoot her!”
Johnny growls and lunges forward. The trapper holds the pistol out in front of him, the barrel wavering with his inexperience and uncertainty.
The noise of the gunshot is horrendous, world shattering as it echoes and bounces off the trees and rocks, as well as inside your head. But it’s nothing compared to the scream that escapes your lips as Johnny falls to the ground, bright crimson spattering across the crystalline white snow as he rolls over and over until he stops in a crumpled heap.
Something inside you snaps and you launch yourself at the man, the murderer, and flail wildly with your fists without a single concern for yourself. You bite, scratch and claw, trying to inflict as much damage as you can, as though you were a wild animal fighting for her life. Tears and rage blind you, stopping you from seeing the gun fall from his hand into the snow and vanishing from view as the man backs away from your attack. His partner drops to her knees and gropes through the soft powder trying to retrieve the weapon.
You begin to tire but force yourself not to stop, until you’re lifted from the ground, legs kicking wildly as you impotently scream out your anger and pain.
“That’s enough!” A deep voice penetrates your grief and stills you, calm creeping into your brain, a voice you know. “That’s it, calm down.”
You blink through your tears and your feet touch the ground again as you relax. A warm body holds you firml, and you look over your shoulder to see Price is the one holding you, his face grim. Kyle and Simon have the trappers corralled against the rocks, growling and snarling ferociously as the two humans cower.
Price lets you go and picks up a pack belonging to the trappers and finds a pack of zip ties, and uses them to bind the pair, wrist and ankles and leaves them wedged in behind some rocks at the side of the path as they scream and beg not to be left to be eaten alive. The pair have no idea they are dealing with werewolves still, thankfully.
You kneel in the snow beside Johnny, pressing your glove to the bleeding wound on his shoulder, tears running down your cheeks. The others gather around looking down as Johnny whines and licks your hand.
“Get up, Johnny,” Simon says, not unkindly. “You’re not that shot.” Johnny whines again, snout nudging at your hand again demanding your attention as you glare fiercely up at Simon, ready to curse him out for his insensitivity.
“Mate, c’mon,” Kyle says, nudging the fallen werewolf with his foot, and you start to realise you’re the only one distraught by the situation. Slowly you sit back on your heels and pull your hands back from Johnny’s fur.
“Wait, he’s okay?” you ask incredulously and realise he isn’t bleeding anymore
“Oh, he’ll hurt like a bastard,” Kyle chuckles, “but there’s no way that was a silver bullet so he’s gonna be fine.”
“It does bloody hurt,” Johnny complains bitterly after he shifts form and sits up. Blood seeps from the wound and his face is visibly pale, and he accepts Simon’s hand to pull him to his feet.
“Let’s get you down to the cottage and get the Doc to come and look at that, the bullet’s still in there,” Price says, and give you a curious look. “Kyle, go up to the den and radio into town. We’ll need someone to come up and collect those two as well,” he says, tilting his head at the two trappers.
You walk in silence with the three werewolves as you return to the cottage and get Johnny upstairs into your bed. Kyle soon joins the rest of you having returned from the den and goes upstairs to sit with Johnny while you, Price and Simon wait by the fire. A tense quiet settles over you all, Price watching you closely with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“What were you doing coming up to the den?” He finally asks you.
“Coming to apologise,” you tell him, deciding to get straight to the point. “Also to ask if I can still stay?”
Price lets out a deep sigh, his eyes drifting closed for a moment before he opens them against and looks at you, brows raised. Simon tilts his head, listening to something you can’t hear, and interrupts Price.
“Sounds like the cavalry has arrived,” he grins, and a few minutes later there is a sharp knock at the door. You open it and invite in the Doctor and one of the senior police officers who have come up from the town. The Doctor is a man in his late sixties, small and balding, and smiles warmly when he sees you.
“What is it this time?” He asks, and you guide him up the narrow stairs to the bedroom where Johnny lays, Kyle sat beside him as they talk softly.
The Doctor speaks to them both like an old friend, clearly he knows exactly who and what they are, and he carefully extracts the bullet from Johnny’s shoulder and closes the wound, before wrapping it in a bandage. He gives him something for the pain, and to help him sleep.
“It’s best if he rests for a few days, preferably in one shape mind you,” he says with a conspiratorial wink and a nod to you, clearly putting you in charge of his care.
“Aye, I hear ya,” Johnny says, smiling thinly. “I’ll rest right here with the lass, no problem.”
“Just make sure he does rest, no strenuous activities,” the elderly man says firmly, patting you on the arm as if wishing you luck as he leaves.
“Ach, that’s no fun,” Johnny grumbles tiredly and Kyle laughs.
“You need to recover, so rest only,” Kyle says firmly, before getting up. “I’m going to make sure Price knows.”
You follow the Doctor and Kyle downstairs, letting Johnny fall asleep under the medicine's effects, and find Price talking to the Police officer who arrived in the car. He tells her where to find the trappers, and with a curt nod she leaves to arrange for the criminals to be taken into custody.
Soon it’s just you and Price left by the fireplace. He runs his finger along the lid of the box where it sits on the sofa, his thick nail making a hollow sound as it drags over the grain. Your mouth goes dry as he picks it up effortlessly and turns to you with a small smile on his face. He lifts it and tilts it so the bottom faces you, and you see in elegant pyrography the initials J.P.
“I made this a long time ago,” he says, putting it back down carefully. “It was in a gap in the bedroom wall, right?”
You nod, not sure what to say.
“It wasn’t hidden from us, love,” he says softly, walking closer to you and making the floorboards creak under his weight. “It was hidden from prying human eyes to protect us.” His hands come up and rest on your shoulders.
“We want you here because we love you, but I shouldn’t have pressured you so much,” he says, bringing his palms up to cup your face tenderly.
“I get that now, I’m sorry,” you admit openly, voice quavering slightly.
“Please stay,” he says quietly, looking at you with soft eyes. In response you rush forward and wrap your arms around his waist, getting enveloped in his embrace immediately.
“Of course,” you reply, and feel the kiss he places on top of your head.
Johnny dozes in your bed after the rest of the Pack leaves, his face a little pale and a small wrinkle on his forehead the only indication of any pain he feels. You keep him in your bed, keeping the wound clean, and marveling at how fast he heals from such an injury.
After just two days Johnny starts to become fidgety, and you know he is feeling better as his body repairs with inhuman speed. Waking up beside him on the third day you feel his hands caressing your hips and his lips on the back of your neck as he spoons up behind you.
“G’morning,” you mumble. “How are you feeling?”
“Hard,” he chuckles, and nudges your backside with his morning wood.
“No, you're still on bedrest , remember?” You chastise him despite the deep warmth you feel between your thighs.
“C’mon,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, “are ya telling me you don’t want this nice fat cock in ya right now, hen?”
Your ears burn at the outrageousness of his words but you still giggle, which turns into a gasp when he rubs himself harder up against your backside. The hands around your stomach slide down and inside your sleep shorts.
“I still dinnae hear a no,” he teases as he slowly runs a fingertip along the seam of your pussy, and softly moans as your breath hitches in response. He does it a few more times before pressing deeper, finding your wetness waiting for him and grinning with triumph.
“There she is,” he sighs and begins to circle you clit slowly as you squirm in his arms.
“Fuck, Johnny,” you whine as he slides his finger through your folds again, gather you slick before returning to your clit again.
“I plan to,” he sniggers and kisses your neck, groaning as you rock your hips and grind against him. Slowly he begins working his thick finger into you, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and rocks his hips in time with this hand, mirroring the thrusts. He adds a second finger, stretching your entrance whilst putting delicious friction on your clit with his thumb.
“Are you ready for me, love?” He whispers against your ear. “Gonna let me fuck you good?” You manage to nod, and your shorts are quickly pushed down, your top leg lifted up and the head of his cock slipping between your folds.
The tips of his claws dig into the softness of your thigh as he holds your leg up, and you reach down between your legs to grasp his shaft and line it up with your entrance, the ache inside you demanding to be filled.
“That’s a good girl,” he growls, a lick of broad tongue against your neck making you shudder as he thrusts inside you, filling you with his cock.
His grinds into you, his paws sliding over your body, pinching and squeezing at your breasts, hips, stomach, nipples. He gruffs and whines as he fucks into you, the wet noises of your cunt stretching around his already thickening knot clear and loud.
“Shit… gonna get you on my knot and never let ya go, bonnie thing,” he growls into your ear. As his movements become harsher, more desperate he rolls you onto your front, pushing your thighs wide to give him access to your body. His hips curl and snap, almost frantic as he fucks into you with abandon. The sensation of his knot pulling at your entrance makes you lightheaded, your orgasm starting to build under the onslaught.
You brace yourself against the headboard as his hips slam into yours, his feet scrambling against the mattress and claws digging into the sheets as he pushes harder and harder.
“Johnny! Johnny… gonna come!” You cry out and he lays over your back, with another hard thrust his knot slots into place and then he’s grinding into you as it finishes swelling. The pressure pushes you over the edge and you come, your cunt squeezing and milking his cock as he comes too.
“Fuck… ah… lass, you feel so good,” he grunts, rolling his hips as the last few spasms wrack his body. He pulls you against his chest and arranges the two of you on your sides, kissing the back of your next and shoulders tenderly.
“You feel amazing yourself,” you reply hazily in post orgasmic bliss. “I guess you’re all better now then?”
“Aye, all fixed up now. Let’s get you up to the den today,” he says gently. “Let’s get you back to your Pack.”
“Yes, please,” you sigh contentedly.
———————————————————————————————————-
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BITTERSWEET
synopsis: it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.
wc: 2.7k
pairings: jaemin × fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff
warnings: mentions of violence, blood, uses of petnames, reader ogles at jaemin for a little while, jaemin gives mixed signals but also not really?
notes: I was supposed to post this last week but the formatting was so off anyways happy renjun day, here's a jaemin fic?
even when he was battered, bruised and most probably broken, na jaemin stared up at you with those shiny eyes, almost iridescent under the moonlight.
you havent seen him in weeks.
you'd like to kick and scream and shout at him for ghosting you all this time, the possibilities of everything that could've happened to him, worrying you endlessly up until now.
you hate him for just showing up like this, out of the blue, you think, but his composure suggests that this isn't as big of a deal as you make it out to be—whether it was weeks or maybe even months later, na jaemin would always circle back to you
like always, there he is stood at your doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night, dripping blood all over the welcome mat that lays on your front porch, his usual carefree self
you know you'll be getting a long scolding from your mother about the kind of company you surround yourself with the next morning, before being forced to rub the stains out of said mat, but in this moment, you couldn't seem to care less
perhaps it's because you swear you've never seen anything prettier, even with cuts littered across his skin, and a swollen eye that would certainly discolour the next morning, he looks ethereal.
for a moment, your jaw hangs low and jaemin holds back a chuckle at the sight, though you wish he hadn't, before you slip to the side and let him in, shutting out the cold as he flings the door to a close behind him, finally turning to face you
jaemin however, had always basked in the warm feeling of admiration that came with your look, though it mostly fell straight through his heart and inflated his sky high ego instead, jaemin wonders how despite his cocky nature you seemed to welcome him all the same
there's an unfamiliar sweetness to his scent tonight, his clothes oozing with the smell of cologne and what any sane person could recognise as perfume— women's perfume.
suddenly you find it difficult to keep looking at his stupidly pretty face, almost feeling sick
admittedly tonight your eyes hold a deeper gloominess to them, bloodshot, because you're tired, he tries to convince himself, but he knows a lot of that redness comes from the purple painted splodges against his skin, the bruises that burn deep inside his being— a burning that seems negligible at the sight of you
"cute slippers" he whispers, the sight of your fluffy pink hello kitty slippers causing the heat to rush to your cheeks
the embarrassment fades just as quickly as it seemed to have taken over your entirety— jaemin had seen a lot worse of you "almost as cute as you" he adds
you brush over the topic like it means nothing, frankly it doesn't, like most things with jaemin
"judging by the state of you" you sigh, two hands on your hips as you look him up and down disappointedly, "you didn't win this fight" and jaemin reels back, far too animated for you to assume he's actually in any pain considering the offended expression he wears, but you know him far too well to fall for his, admittedly convincing, acts
"I won, actually" he says weaving his arms through the gaps between yours to pull you closer, letting then hang at your waist
"sure you did" you nod sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, following you into the kitchen
he knows what it means when you hold out two mugs, specifically the ones you had hand painted on your trip to the park when you were 5, adorned with the same floral pattern in different colours, and a cheesy quote continued across the two cups— his eyes light up
"hot chocolate?"
and jaemin hates hot chocolate, until its made by you, the sweet, almost childish drink something he could only savour in the dim lighting of your living room
maybe it was because of that specific brand of crazy expensive hot chocolate you used, that tasted a little dark and sometimes too strong for your liking, or maybe, most probably it was the taste of nostalgia that would linger on his lips each and every time
all jaemin knows is he would find himself laughing at the moustache of marshmallow fluff that would undoubtedly form over your upper lip as you carefully dabbed against his wounds with the antiseptic you kept on hand, one reserved solely for him since he was allergic to the regular stuff
he nods, attempting to grin before pulling his lip between his teeth at the sharp pain that strikes across it—hissing.
you laugh, despite the dull ache that takes over your chest seeing him like this
flicking your head over to the sofa is all you can do, worried your voice would give way if you gave the instructions verbatim but jaemin seems to get the memo.
as he takes a seat on your mother's favourite buttoned yellow velvet loveseat— you choose not to read to far into his choice of sofa
you're fishing through the drawers of your freezer to find some ice to help his wounds but all you can find is a bag of dino nuggets and a bag of peas— you decide the dino nuggets have a larger surface area and would probably be a little more help as you emerge through the kitchen door, hoping you made the right choice
jaemin finds the faint look of contemplation on your face far too adorable to hide the smile that reaches his now coloured cheeks, one darker than the other owing to the bruise that blossoms over it
"here" you offer it out to him wrapped in a towel, having learnt from your mistakes the last time you'd accidentally given him freezer burn
"gonna make me do it all by myself doll?" you shoot a questioning look his way "I'm all ache-y"
contrast to his tough demeanor, jaemin looks up at you with a pout and a look of feigned innocence
"yeah? well you should've thought about that before landing yourself in this situation"
you're ready to turn a full 180 on your heels and walk away, until jaemin's fingers wrap around your wrist, bruised knuckles begging for some sympathy
"please?"
ultimately you give in. you knew you would the second he looked at you with those shiny big eyes. you didn't know how to say no, not to him
"fine."
"that's my girl" he beams up at you, you know better than to let his words replay in your mind, his girl, why did that sound so damn good?
as your press the towel to his cheek, the cool feeling against his burning hot skin makes him wince, though you're not sure who's in more pain considering the way you your heart threatens to leap out of your chest
"how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful huh jaemin" you sigh, rubbing circles against his warm skin in an attempt to comfort him, angry eyes latched onto the rough blood stained patches
"don't call me that" his voice drops an octave somehow louder than before despite coming in whispers
"what else shall I call you? is that not your name jaemin?"
his eyes almost flash over completely black as he huffs, "not to you it isn't" and you notice the slither of seriousness that remains unmasked beneath his playful tone— you wonder why jaemin makes no effort to hide the solemnity of his words
but that's who he had always been, hot and cold, difficult to read, even more so to understand, he was confusing at best and so like most things with jaemin, you'd decided putting much thought to it wasn't your best idea, you would only be breaking your own heart.
"oh I didn't know it was different for me" you place a band aid against his wound, reaching to treat the next, your tongue poking out from between your lips causing jaemin to suddenly smile, eyes unwavering from the soft pink skin of your lip
between nights spent in his lousy apartment, cooped up in the illusive comfort of his arms and days spent with tear stained cheeks at the thought of being some disposable little thing in his life, you can't help but find yourself unsure of your place in his life
the acidity rising in your throat should be enough of a reality check for you to know the answer to your question, but self awareness had never been your strong suit.
at times he made you feel like the only girl in the world, most times he made no effort to acknowledge your existence, because jaemin was a man of two extremes
when he cared, or at least seemed to, he did so with his whole heart, and when he didn't— well you couldn't have felt any more worthless
right now his speech is sweet, like his voice is honey and his words are sugar-coated, you're intoxicated by the way his deep cologne overwhelms your senses, making your best attempt to filter out the cheap feminine scent that seems to have blended itself into his
"you know it is doll, everything is different with you" his voice reduces further into deeper whispers, words that hit your mind and soul all at once, heartbeat sounding somewhere in the background as the words echo in your mind
you shake your head.
jaemin had always been adventurous with his words, he was bold to say the least, meaning you knew to take his words with a pinch of salt, or two— however many were necessary really.
drunk on what little love he gave you, you find a sudden dizziness overwhelm you— the good kind that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside even if just for a moment.
honestly speaking, you know you'd believe anything that came out of his mouth— na jaemin could wake up one day and decide the sky was pink and the earth was flat and you'd take it as bible.
you suppose it's just integrated into your genetic coding or something, to be at his beck and call, to let the walls you build around yourself fall down every time, you would protect yourself from the whole world, but the harsh truth was, you couldn't protect yourself from him ,though you didn't mind all that much.
"one of these days I'll leave you at the door to rot" your eyes roll at his words in an attempt to return to the playful mood, and jaemin knows you would never, but the brief mention of the possibility still makes him gulp, sound resonating in his ears
"never" he whispers, suddenly his eyes are glossy and his grip on the warm mug begins to loosen, the thought of losing you never having been one to cross his mind until now, you however, seem as unbothered as before
similar to most things in life, jaemin took you for granted.
but that was the thing, you were unlike anyone, anything, any part of his life— you were special.
jaemin knew you meant a lot to him, it wasn't a secret he tried to hide, not that he was particularly good at expressing it either, but the way your hair falls over your face as you concentrate on patching up his injuries and your skin glows under the dim light has jaemin wondering just how much you mean to him.
jaemin decides you mean the most to him, more than anyone else.
as a man of habit, he wonders what that would mean for these habits of his that you hated oh so much. very little, most probably. he had you amongst a thousand other wrapped around his finger, cast under his spell, deeply infatuated with him but somehow playing with you felt the most special.
that was the problem, you were special to him and as much as he enjoyed playing with fire, jaemin had never thought he'd find himself getting burnt.
you don't realise the silence that befalls the room, nothing but the soft buzz of the fridge or the flicker of the soon to fuse kitchen light mixed with your soft breaths— he had noticed they grew louder as you became more exhausted, guilt beginning to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach, knowing he was keeping you awake
he was always a little selfish when it came to you, he knew that
your eyes land on jaemin, his flooding with something you can only hope is a feeling of warmth— anything but his usual sudden switch up before he'd announce he was leaving, only for you to see him the next time he got himself like this, a couple nights into the next week most probably, a routine you can't say you had appreciated, nor condoned
most things with jaemin were like this, short lived, and bittersweet, although the bitter part seemed more overpowering at times
you can't help but hold onto the little slither of hope that tonight will be different
"hey doll" his free hand cups your cheek, forcing your noticeably distant eyes into his—but instead of the icy cold stare you expect, you're met with fire, his eyes burning with promise
"hmm?" your eyes lock, "what's up?"
"never stop nagging at me, please" he sucks in a harsh breath, hoping you'll say something to stop him from completely losing control of his words and spilling every thought he's ever held back when it came to you, a lot really
but you only take a sip of the warm drink in your mug, the tones of dark cocoa and the traces of coffee so distinct.
the white foam spreading across your lip as you now decide to tend to the gash beneath his eyebrow, though jaemin sees it as an excuse to take ahold of your face between his fingers, thumb tracing over your upper lip
"cute" your wide eyes make him chuckle, noticing a small speck of white still resting on your lip
"would you look at that, I missed a spot" you find yourself being pulled further into his lap, legs messily sprawled across the couch along with his, you don't mind however, his pink glossy lips the only thing on your mind
you'd like to let him ruin you, make you his puppet, blind you with his warmth and make you his and only his. even if you were his little plaything, it didn't matter, nothing mattered as long as you were his.
"and what are you going to do about it nana, hmm?"
you let your nose rest gently against his, soft vanilla scent mixing with the deep musky cologne jaemin wore, you wonder how it manages to last throughout the day considering your perfumes lasted all of 5 minutes, at best
"whatever you'd like doll, just say the word and I'll do it"
"you promise?"
jaemin nods, "I promise" and he holds you tight, because like all things good in life, jaemin knows one day, he'll lose you too
as you pout your lips at his, a knowing smile in his eyes , the first aid box is long forgotten behind you and your lips fall atop each other, like they'd always meant to.
you can't help but wonder how long jaemin will stick to this promise of his, forever you hope, though you know better.
especially when his hot cocoa flavoured kisses, like the true essence of jaemin, were so damn bittersweet.
#nct#nct dream#nct dream fluff#nct jaemin#nct dream jaemin#nct x reader#nct x female reader#nct x y/n#nct x oc#nct x you#nct dream x y/n#nct dream x oc#nct dream x you#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct imagine#nct fluff#nct dream fic#nct dream imagines#na jaemin#jaemin x y/n#jaemin x reader#jaemin x you#jaemin#jaemin fluff#jaemin angst#nct dream angst#nct angst
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Knight König who, after bravelly defending the castle alone and saving all the beautiful young maidens, is now *gasp* alone with them!! You and the rest of the young ladies are not even married yet and this whole horror of a siege came :(( you had to be locked inside the maiden tower with the other ladies, praying to the gods that someone strong would defend you, and here he was!! The giant knight from the north from whom you were always herded away 'because a brute like him has no business with fine young ladies like yourselves' :((
Imagine König who is for the time being the only male in the small castle, the foe has been defeated but any kind of help will take days to arrive :( During the fighting his mind was on slaying all the enemies to defend the flock of the frightened ladies but now...??
He's the only male among a dozen of maidens!! And these poor does are so scared in their tower on comfy beds of furs with all the supplies...so many warm, soft bodies to keep him warm and 'aid him to help his wounds', so many broad hips and breasts to grab and squeeze for comfort...oh and they are so ready to share all the supplies with him!!
I mean...who's to say that a war hero doesn't deserve something good too? :D
GFDFSSSS first I was like "gangbang medieval style yeehaw let's gooo" but then I had another quick idea (in all honesty writing gangbangs make me blush furiously lmao I'm weak!)
CW: Fear of SA, mention of blood, boners galore, dubcon groping, period typical attitudes, gender roles etc.
Knight!König asking you to wash him (because he was seated next to you at this one feast and now he's obsessed...)
König, who never had time for women because he was always on duty, whose best chances for a wife were an old widow or some soiled woman, whatever that meant... Probably some lowly lady, for a lowly knight like him. His family must hate him because they keep him from having even that: instead, he gets shipped off to this outpost of a castle that houses hundreds of soldiers and only a few women. Even they are kept under lock and key most of the time, and it's no wonder... A man like him shouldn't even be dreaming of dipping his dick in the pretty soft things of the Maiden’s tower.
König, who even to his own surprise, finds himself victorious after weeks of siege. Who's left completely unchecked and alone with a flock of scared fawns, poor does who are now gathering together for warmth and safety. They only have tiny daggers and iron scissors as their weapons against an armed knight, knowing they’re not always safe even from their own men – especially after a battle.
Even the strongest, most valiant knights get tired during a siege, turning into starved animals after a few weeks. A soldier fresh from war is the worst thing, having his cock up after bloodying his sword, they usually need to have a woman as soon as possible. A victorious knight, finding himself winning against all the odds, would surely prefer to fuck every single one of the soft cunts locked up in the women's tower...
So König, who batters the door and orders the frightened women to lift the baulk, only gets screams as an answer. They finally open it when he says he's tired after a fight and only wants to rest for a bit, puts on his most charming smile as the huge wooden door creaks open, and meets the ladies with a wide grin despite having blood all over him, stands proudly in his full height with his sword still drawn, a path of entrails and cut limbs behind him – why are they still screaming? He saved them! He should be given a royal welcome!
König, who finally gets the women to calm down a little when they notice he is not about to rape them on sight, who wipes his sword with one of their finest, freshly dyed wools (rude!). Who sheathes his weapon and smiles again, suggesting that they help him out of his plate and give him a wash – he’s earned that much, no?
König, who eats from their bowls as if he has never even seen food, who gawks at their tapestries with curiosity, who tries to stare down their necklines and catch a sight of those beautiful, round, plush tits. Most women quickly rush to heat the water to escape the possible groping about to ensue, while you are left with the task of getting him out of his armor.
The straps are small and endless, the armor consists of dozens of different parts, and he just keeps on grinning widely while you’re at it, giving you odd compliments and passages of courtly love with his mouth full of food. Some of his ramblings are straight out of a troubadour’s song, but you don’t believe a word he says, especially when his heated stare is fixed on your exposed neck, the collarbones so frail, the cascading wool that reveals your wrists as you try to pry your way under the heavy, bloodied pauldron.
Of course he remembers you, down to the minutest detail because he got to feed and take care of you at last winter's great feast... Someone had fucked up and seated you next to him in their error, and he heedily took advantage of the situation. He even managed to have a grope at you when the lords and ladies weren’t watching because they were so drunk.
He was drunk too, intoxicated by the strong ale and the shy stares you granted him. You didn’t do a thing when he pulled you closer and practically fed you some deer off your shared plate, tried if you'd fancy a date or a sip of wine while keeping you tightly tucked in his lap. He couldn’t get enough of you: your tiny gasp when you felt him grow hard, your whimper when he stole a soft squeeze of your tit… Your shy ghost of a smile as you demurely called him “Sir” and told him to stop before he gets you both into trouble.
Ever since that night, he has dreamed of you when pulling out his leaking cock. Sinned until he felt embarrassed to go to the chapel and yet again confess that he has defiled himself with his hand and thoughts of you. Ever since that night, he has wondered whether you are giving those whimpers to someone else nowadays…
But here you are, in the tower, taking off his plates and using all your strength to get him out of his chainmail. Why haven’t you been married off yet? Why aren't you making blankets and throws at some fancy lord's castle by now? You have the perfect hips for delivery, it's practically a sin to keep a woman like you locked up in a military fortress…
And polite curtsies and shy, downcast eyes won't save you now, you know that.
How can you say no to a knight, ordering you to give him a wash? “Do him the honor,” he says, while anyone can see he’s already hard.
There’s nothing the others can do but put up a curtain and leave you two to your featherlight privacy. He doesn’t even bother to undress behind it, simply flaunts that monstrous thing between his legs for everyone to see before giving you the honor of strolling to the steaming bath. A soft silence fills the tower as the knight, tall as a legend, hairy as a beast, climbs into the small wooden tub with a grunted sigh.
You, the maiden he picked, can only look in horror as he grows even harder under the hot water. The thick erection soon juts above the surface, the dark curls framing the base of his cock now floating lusciously underwater, the dark hair covering his full balls, too. Either he's just big everywhere or then he's been too busy during the weeks of the siege... The amount of times you've seen him abstain from meat in this castle is ridiculous, and you always wondered if he ate fish because he liked it or because he had defiled himself in his lust.
He's an animal, but having a woman is not a sin as foul as throwing his seed on the ground... And here he is, strong thighs spreading as far as they can go to give room to the astounding erection he’s having just from the prospect of your touch.
The knight leans back in the tub, looks at you with a drowsy, soft smile, and tells you not to be afraid. The thick, throaty voice leaves your knees completely weak.
“Ach so... Have you ever touched one of these before?”
#knight!könig#könig x you#könig x reader#historical au#yes Salome no wonder you don't get through your asks if you write a short drabble for 20% of them#historical au's are my ultimate weakness#deal with it ok ;_;
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lene we need some 80s slasher JB!!!
ohh shure! he gives creepy summer camp counselor vibes - 80s!slasher!john b
₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, blood, violence, death, threats, slapping, spitting, obsessed!john b - ₊˚⊹
you'd gotten the most perfect job for the summer as a camp counselor at a sleep-away summer camp. after meeting everyone at the orientation you've become close to another counselor who will be working with you, john b.
he was in charge of the boy's cabin and you the girls, and your groups would meet up for activities, bonfires, smores, and lunch. he'd honestly grown really attached to you since you were always doing things together, whenever he'd see you chatting with another guy he'd feel possessive and you weren't even dating! yet john b would also embarrassingly get hard watching you slide down your shorts, staring at how tight your bikini bottoms fit around your ass. he'd spend that night in his cabin jerking off, picturing your pretty body bouncing on top of him, wishing he could grab fistfuls of your ass. he'd finish in his fist all sweaty and out of breath.
you sat at your group's table in the mess hall facing john b's table, both of you making eye contact every few seconds.
when the dessert was ready, each table was called to go pick up their plate of cherry pie with vanilla ice cream. john b's eyes followed your figure as you walked up to the counter, waiting until all the little girls got their slices. one of the guys that was working inside the kitchen, clearly flirting with you, asks if you want some. you decline with a smile but the young man insists, saying he made it himself, he lifts up the fork with a piece of the warm pie and dripping ice cream to your lips. you indulge him by opening your mouth and closing it around the fork, swallowing the desert you widen your eyes and nod. "it's really good!" you smile, the guy's hand reaching out to swipe the little bit of ice cream that stayed on the edge of your lip.
watching this, john b was furious, letting that fucking feed you, touch your lips....
that night, the little girls knock on your cabin door, right next to theirs. they complain that they heard someone scream coming from the mess hall and are too scared to sleep. you tell them it's probably nothing and to go back to sleep, that you'll check it out.
the girls do as they're told and you walk over to the mess hall and walk inside the dark space to see what could have been the noise, hearing some sort of noise coming from inside the kitchen you figure it could be an animal that got inside, you press your ear to the swinging door honestly too scared to actually look inside.
the door then swings open, causing you to stumble back and meet eyes with john b, with blood on his shirt, hands, and on the knife in his hands. you stand there confused...'did he cut himself?' you think, then you see it, through the open door is the pie guy dead on the floor with his blood pooling around his body. john b's hand is quick to cover your mouth before you can scream, "shshsh, you don't need to do that bub, you're fine." he whispers, maintaining eye contact with you.
you nod your head slowly, chest heaving.
"i'm gonna let go now okay? need you to be quite f'me, can you do that?" he raises his eyebrows and you nod again, he takes his hand off our mouth. "m'gonna need to take your clothes off...got blood on them..." he tells you rather than asks you, he raises the knife and cuts your top up the middle.
"john b? what's going on..." you whisper, clearly scared.
"i can't wait anymore, you drive me crazy, i need to do this." he rambles while tugging off your shorts rather roughly.
"john b did you stab the kitchen b-" he cuts you off with a rough kiss to keep you quiet. he manhandles you over one of the tables and lifts you on top, facing him.
you whine as he brings the knife up to your face.
"don't scream, don't want to whole camp to hear you, n'i don't want to hurt you pup"
you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as he cuts your panties to get access to your hot messy pussy.
"awww she's so pretty..." he coos, his big rough fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you mewl.
"jombee...i don't wanna...you killed someone!" you shake your head, almost hyperventilating crying.
"hey, nuh uh, stop that." he pats your face to get you to listen to him. you watch as he pulls off his bloody shirt and unzips his shorts and pulls himself out, your eyes widening at the size. "he's not the only one i killed." he looks back into your eyes and you swear your heartbeat sped up and so did the pulsing of your cunt.
"you're a murderer johnbee," you whisper but then gasp when you feel him start to push in, stretching your pussy.
"i know, m'really mean, huh puppy?" he pouts mockingly and pinches one of your nipples making you squeal.
"don't like being mean to you, but when you walk around acting like an angel, when i know you're a little tease...kinda have'ta put you in your place," he grunts, pounding into hard now, you can see the little bulge in your tummy.
"i wasn't! i didn't mean to be! i didn't do anything!" you sob, one hand grabbing onto the table and the other hand gripping his bicep. blood sorta covering both of you from where he had touched you, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look at him.
"wish you could be my good girl right now n'just take. it." he thrusts harder with his last two words. you wish you could scream at how scared you are of him but also at how good it feels.
"open." he grunts, squeezing your jaw a little. you shake your head no as best you can, causing him to let go of your jaw and slap you, making your drooly cunt clench around him. "m'not asking again." he grabs your jaw again, and you open your mouth, and he spits into it making you whine in disgust. "swallow." you do as your told and swallow tears continuing to fall.
"that's how a dumb little doggy gets treated, they get spit on." he grins and pulls out of you, manhandles you off the table, and bends you over, tits and face pressed against the wood.
"nooo...no.." you drool onto the table.
he bends down a bit to be right in front of your ass and spits on your other tight little hole, watching as his spit drips down to your pussy. you squeeze your eyes shut at the feeling and sob a little louder.
he stands up straight again and reaches around to pat your sloppy little cunt now covered in his spit, and slides his cock back in.
"s-so gross..." you mewl, making him laugh quietly, bringing the back of his bloody hand up to your face.
"cum around me or i'll smear this on your face, you want that? hmm? some guy's blood on your face?" he threatens. "c'mon..." he bends down to press icky wet kisses to your cheek that instantly make you cum on on him, pulsing and squeezing him as your mind goes dumb. his big hand covering your mouth as you moan.
"there she is, good girl...yeaaah" he praises, thrusting into you more sloppily until he's pumping you full, flooding your poor little pussy.
after a few seconds, he pulls out and uses his tip to smear yours and his cum around your pussy lips.
"here." he hands you his bloody shirt for you to put on knowing it'll cover you enough to get back to your cabin decent, you pull his shirt over your head and make sure it covers your ass.
"we'll talk more tomorrow, okay sweetie? gotta go...clean that up." he tilts his head toward the body. "goodnight kiss?" he bits his lip, squinting his eyes, taunting you. you stand there lifting your head, he leans down to give you one last kiss on your lips, a string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away. ᥫ᭡
#gardengirl'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹#cw blood#cw spit#cw blo0d#80s!slasher!john b#john b prompt#john b blurb#john b outer banks#john b smut#john b#john b x reader#john b routledge#outer banks smut#dark!john b#80s!slasher!au#80s!john b#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#jj maybank x reader#rafe cameron x reader#obx smut#jj maybank smut
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile XII
Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader
<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Alright folks. This is Alastor point of view since his last chapter, it's 15K long. Beware: blood, killing animal, gore, drowing experience, torture, obession. I hope you'll enjoy what is going on inside our favorite deer's head.
“ You look tense, are you alright?”
He repressed a sigh while turning his face toward his mother. He was reading a book about radio and how it worked. It didn’t seem complicated, it wasn’t complicated really but he knew he would have to put much more effort than others to be able to get a job that would satisfy him. People wouldn’t like a dark skinned man on the radio.
“ I’m just reading.”
“ You’ve been reading the same book for weeks now. I should buy you another one.” his mother said as she took the book from his hands. He shook his head, taking his mother’s hand between his.
“ No need, mom. I was just thinking about what to buy you for Christmas.”
“ Don’t you dare buy me something young man.” she tapped his nose with her finger, her face wearing a teasing smile. “ Let your mother spoil you before you become a grown man.”
He smiled at his mother with a soft expression. A grown man huh. What was the difference with how he was now ? Was she talking about his changing body? Or his morals? He watched her leave the room before signing. What was a grown man?
He changed his clothes with his hunting outfit, put on his glasses and went to the woods. He walked quietly into the snow, stalking animals, or finding news areas. He watched as animals weren’t aware of his presence, he was the perfect hunter, almost like a divine punishment that couldn’t be stopped. He quite enjoyed the feeling, the thrill.. But hunting animals was getting boring.. He craved something more…more what?
He thought about his father with a dark smile. He had so many scenarios inside his head, how he would chase him, how he would trap him, he would make him feel the terror he had put on him and his mother for years. He had all the scenarios inside of his head but when it came to killing him, he didn’t know. Maybe being a grown man was knowing how to kill someone?
His thoughts drifted toward you. His special person, his safe space. You were stressing out because war was still going on and he was nearing the age where he would be taken to fight for his country. On one hand he didn’t want to go and leave you here, he didn’t think he could be sane knowing you were so far away from him but on the other hand, war meant killing, killing other humans, and that, that was interesting.
He looked down on his pocket watch. It was something old, and that seemed to stop working each time he went into the woods. He rolled his eyes, this was so annoying. He walked back toward his home, as quietly as he arrived. He knew he was the most dangerous predator in these woods. Now, he needed to be the most dangerous predator in his own house.
He changed his outfit and went to your house with his mother. Your home has always been much warmer than his, and his mother would be smiling with your mom. He liked that image. Even with his father gone, his house was calm, not warm, because his mother and Alastor knew it was only a matter of time before the devil came back to his own house. He smiled at your mother when she opened the door and said you didn’t arrive yet. That’s okay, he’ll wait. He’ll always wait for you.
After thirty minutes, there you were, opening the door with hot chocolate on your lips. How could you still drink that, he couldn’t understand you. You seemed in a hurry so what’s better than taking your attention from your quest?
“ Look who’s here~.” he smiled as you hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Your touch was something that grounded him, sometimes he would be so lost in thoughts he wouldn’t realize he zooned out for more than thirty minutes, sometimes even longer, but if you happened to touch him, he'd just come back, as easily as that.
“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. He lightly pressed his finger against your lips, he almost wanted to nip it. Your lips looked… delicious. He looked at your eyes, the windows of your soul and couldn’t help but feel content. You had a glint in your eyes, a glint that would appear only in his presence. You looked at him like you were asking, begging for more… More of what? Please, do talk dear, tell him what you need, he’ll make it so you are fulfilled.
“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”
You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, and he couldn’t help but grin. You were the same, the same little girl who would follow him everywhere. He smirked when he heard your mother’s remonstrance.
“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”
You began to talk about your school, what was happening there and of course you had to motion John. Truthfully, Alastor didn’t care about John’s interest in you, he really didn’t care, unless he was being dangerous. What he cared about was that you mentioned him. Which meant, he was important enough for you to notice him and bring him into your daily conversation.
“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.
“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile. Ohoh.. Now, that was interesting. Having another point of view about your associations would be a plus. He trusted you, but you were so naive, you couldn’t even see what you had to offer. How could he trust your word about people being nice to you without asking something in exchange.
“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down.
“ No Alastor !”
“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. If he just used some of his strength, it would be so easy to just stand up but he liked to see you try. How would you shut him up today? With a kiss on his cheek? A witty come back?
You sat on his lap.
He clenched his hand on the sofa, and inhaled deeply. What an odd reaction from his own body. He was used to your touch, some days his body couldn’t bear it but today it didn’t seem like it. He didn’t feel like your touch was burning him so it wasn’t a bad day. But your touch right now wasn’t as relaxing as usual. He stared at you, you were blushing. How cute. Were you feeling as conflicted as he felt ? He wanted to know. He needed to know what you were thinking.
“ What do you want for your birthday ?”
His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you, did you avoid what was happening? Oh well, he’ll let this one pass. He relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Every year you would ask him what he wanted for his birthday and each year he would give you the same answer.
“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. He didn’t know what happened, his mouth talked before his own brain could think. “ Should we invite John?”
“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which was tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now but you didn’t seem to dislike it. You didn’t even flinch or wince in pain. Everything he gave you, you always took it nicely…
“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as his smile twitched,“ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed, not mockingly, but happily, like you enjoyed the fact that he could be jealous. Him? Jealous? Don’t make him laugh, dear.
He pinned you down on the sofa and began to tickle you. Your laughter was smooth music to his ears but then you began to gasp for air as your cheeks were flushed because of him. He felt a shiver run down his spine as you looked up at him with teary eyes and cheeks flushed. He kind of wanted you to talk in that state, what would you sound like? So he ordered you to say his three rules. He stared at your face as you opened your mouth.
“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrists in one hand so you couldn’t hide from his observant eyes. Don’t hide from him. Don’t ever think about hiding yourself from him…
“ Rule number three.”
“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears. You were so… enchanting. Did you put a spell on him, making him behave like a starved man that couldn’t help but seek your presence to be fulfilled ? What’s even worse, you were giving yourself to him. Were you aware of it? Each time you let him see your emotions, each time you let yourself be vulnerable with him, you were giving him such silenced praises. No one should feel safe with him. No one but you. But how he wished for you to tell him that. He wanted to hear those words from your mouth.
“ Give up yourself to me.” he whispered.
Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you. What did he say? Did he really say those words? He was so confused. That was new… He tilted his head as he watched your expression. You looked at him with..hope? Was that hope? Like you wished him to say those words again. But he wouldn’t, not now, he needed to understand what was going on inside of his own mind.
“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on. You asked him to repeat himself which he did, still confused by his own behavior. “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you, which made you beamed. Surefly it must have been from your father.
“ You still have no news from your father?” you asked after reading the letter.
“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. He wished his father was still alive, dying like an honorable soldier didn’t fit him at all. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.
“ Alice ?”
Alice huh? Wasn’t she the one who oh so desperately wanted to meet him? He stood up from the sofa and listened to the conversation, trying to find clues about Alice’s personality without having to interact with the lady.
“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” he heard you say. Huh… He walked into the home’s entrance and saw you tugging a woman into your house before going outside, trying to see if someone was following her. Sweet heavens, did you not care about your own safety? He jerked you back inside the house giving you a pissed smile.
“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly.
“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.”
He turned his back at you to look at the newcomer. He observed her, she was a blue eyed girl, with long blonde hair and she looked like the cherry kind of girl. There he looked at her, could he give you back his attention now? Oh, he almost forgot his manners. He took her hand in his gloved one and flashed her his usual smile.
“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!”
“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. She was lucky you were behind him or he would have slaughtered her with words about how dumb she was to bring danger to your front door.
But he was a gentleman.
“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”
“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”
“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned back to Alice, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. What did he tell you about your endearing naivety? “ What did he look like?”
He listened as the girl began to describe the man’s appearance. Tall, white man, black eyed, no pilosity.. Huh.. Everyone in New Orleans looked like that. But from what she told you before, it didn’t seem like a stalker. A stalker wouldn’t risk being seen…
“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.” you said, sounding upset to his ears. But right now he didn't have time for your emotion, your safety always came first.
“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.”
“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”
He went to the kitchen, said to his mother that he was going to bring a lady back to her own home. He didn’t kiss you goodbye, why would he? He was going to come back as soon as the luggage was dropped.
He walked while observing around him. If the stalker was for Alice, he would feel someone following him. He has an instinct that has been sharpened by his father’s constant presence. He knew where danger came from.
“ So.. You both are childhood friends?”
“ Well of course we are! Can’t you see the special bond that ties us together. Only a fool would deny such–”
“ Oh yes, yes, of course, I wouldn’t dare deny such a strong bond, but other boys, like a guy named John, would deny it. After all, some say, she has never been with another man than you so…” he looked at Alice, still smiling. Was she trying to work him up?
“ Well, tell this… John fella, why would she need another man? Or even a woman? Our bond is too special for this stupid boy to understand.” he spat with a charming smile. Alice beamed as his answers. He didn’t like her. It was like she was observing him, hoping to find answers.
Try again.
He let her at her front door steps and left quickly. It was beginning to be late and he didn’t want to kiss you goodbye if you were already asleep. He walked into your home and found your mother with a confused expression. Seemed like something happened and you were upset.
He frowned and went into your bedroom. He opened the door quietly and walked toward your lying form in your bed. He kneeled down and stroked your cheeks which were still wet from your tears.
Who made you cry?
Who dared make you cry?
“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”
You sat up immediately asking him why he was here, hiding yourself from him with your blanket. What a dumb question…
“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth. Did that man come here while he was taking your friend back home? “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”
You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. He wanted to slay something, someone. Each tear your eyes dropped would be a drop of blood out of the man’s body.
“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”
Then he couldn’t see you anymore, the blanket was covering his face. But then, he felt a pressure against his lips. He froze. Did you just… Did you..?
“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered. He couldn’t see you and he knew that if you covered his face right now, it was because you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment. Well, he couldn't be mad at you. Since you introduced your game of covering someone's eyes and then telling a secret and the other had to keep his mouth shut about it, he did it to you plenty of times when you were being a little too curious. “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”
“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand blindly toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. Seemed like you stopped crying, great. “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”
You really thought something could keep him away from you? How absurd. He waited for an answer for you but was confronted by a dead silence. Well…
“ Can I take off your blanket now?”
You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back,your laughter could calm him down so quickly… You really put a spell on him, didn’t you? He watched you as you fidgeted with your nightgown. Well, it seems like it was time for him to take his leave!
“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”
He didn’t know why but he walked back home with his mother with a big smile on his lips.
—-
He wiped the blood from his face. Killing animals was getting easier and easier. He chuckled as he stared at his bloodied knife and the dead animal around him. Rabbit, doves, wild board. He laughed out loud, his head tilted back.
Yes, this thrill… This thrill !
“ Oh father, please stay alive. I’m preparing something worth living once, I’m preparing your Death.” he laughed maniacally in the forest with cadavers surrounding him. He turned his head toward the noise of a branch cracking, already raising his knife but stopped moving.
A deer.
Was it the same deer he saved that made his father beat him?
“ Well, hello there. Am I disturbing you?” he smiled, tilting his head. He watched as the deer came closer and began to eat the rabbit's remains. Alastor’s eyes widened before chuckling. What kind of deer would eat meat? “ Aren’t you odd? Well, I guess we are the same..” He stared at his bloody hands and couldn’t help but think about you. What would you think right now? Nobody was forcing him to hunt. He was doing it himself, he was enjoying himself.. Would you still smile at him with the same smile? The same warmth in your eyes. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the blood scent.
Would you understand him? Or would you run away from him ?
Would you wait for him at home, preparing dinner while he comes back, dirty, bloody from his hunts. Would you embrace him, worrying about his health and not the animal's? Would you kiss his bloodied lips or put a blanket in front of it? Would you live in a lie with him or accept him fully… Would you open your eyes and stare at his soul and tell him you’ll stay by his side…
Oh odd for him to think like this. But he was thinking about you, so he wasn’t really surprised. He stood up and looked around, the deer wasn’t here anymore. He took some animals and brought them back home so his mother could cook them. His mother had a sad smile when she saw him enter their house, he wondered why. He quickly prepared a bath but just before getting into it he stared at himself in the mirror.
His scars were beginning to fade, for some of them. He chuckled before going into the bath.
He was so monstrous, inside and out.
He tilted his head back on the edge of the bathtub. He hummed a melody you used to sing when you were younger. It’s been a long time since he hadn't heard you sing, he should find a song to play so you could sing. He nodded before sinking into the water, smiling as the water began to redden from the blood he had on him.
Yes, he should go see you.
—-
“ I’ll be delighted!”
He smiled as you looked at him from the swing, confused. You just asked him about coming with you into Alice’s soirée for Chritmas’s Eve. He was lying down, reading a book which he didn’t even remember the title of.
“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really was excited about it!
“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. You laughed softly before tugging off leaves from his hair. He smiled and layed down on your thighs, taking his book back and began to read the same sentence he was trying to comprehend. I Love You. What does it mean ? What was the protagonist feeling right now? The description of his feelings seemed so light compared to what Alastor felt for you. He was obsessed with you and yet he didn’t feel like what was described in this book.
He wanted you to see the monster inside of him. That side of him you haven’t met again. He wanted you to be able to make yourself bleed in front of him, like a fish in front of a shark, but never being afraid of him hurting you. You would look so beautiful drenched in blood…
“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?”
He snapped back in reality, answering you without missing a beat.
“ Why?”
“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ he almost scoffed at your words. You? Being afraid of being underdressed? Hah ! How stupidly adorable. You could be shining like the sun and he would still watch you until his eyes dry out. He tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze. You were beautiful, how unfair…
“ Red suits you.” he stared at you before you looked away. Were you cheek flushed? Cute… See, red suited you.
“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?”
“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.” he smiled in satisfaction as your smile grew bigger. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass.
“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You were utterly humorous ! He had more endurance than you and he loved dancing. Being in control of the other person’s body was thrilling. They trusted him not to make them fall, they tried to match his footsteps… He stared at you with mirth in his eyes. Oh dear…
“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back. Maybe he should give you a reminder of his skills…
He took your hand and helped you standing up before walking you home. The road was frozen which made him suppress a few laughs as he saw some people slipping on the ice while you were busy looking at the shop’s vitrines. Were you still trying to find a birthday present for him? You should rather look where you were putting your feet…
“ Hey, Alasto-”
Thought so.
You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily.
He couldn’t help but smile wider. Your laughter was something that could heal any illness in the world, he was sure of it. And yet, you were the one, making him feel things he couldn’t name. You must be a witch, making him fall for you without him trying to struggle. And even though you were the one putting a spell on him, you let him do what he wanted with your body. You closed your eyes as he controlled the pace of your dancing. What were you trying to do to him?
He made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile, yes, this looked good on you.
“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”
As he walked you back home he hoped you understood his message. No matter how hard you fell, how low you fell, he would be there before you,lower than you waiting to catch you.
—-
He was at your place with his mother fussing around him. She wanted him to look perfect but wasn’t he always perfect? He knew how to keep appearance, so being dressed up was the easiest thing someone could ask him. He held the bouquet behind his back, he wondered if you would understand the meaning of the flowers. He asked the florist for hyacinth, white carnation and white chestnuts. He was excited though, he really couldn’t wait to see your dress. Did you choose a red dress? His suit was a darker shade of red but he hoped you both would match.
“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”
He walked toward the stairs and froze.
Oh.
You were breathtaking.
Your makeup was accentuating your traits. You looked devilishly divine. You were wearing red. Your legs made him want to sink his teeth into it. You wore heels making you the same height as him. You kissed him softly on both cheeks making him gulp. He felt like he had no control over himself. You were like something he wasn’t worth touching and yet, you were offering yourself to him. How cruel of you.
“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.
Oh no, his dearest shouldn’t look so down while looking so perfect. He grabbed your chin softly and raised your face toward his.
“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You smiled brightly as you saw the flowers, you didn’t seem to understand the message but who cared when you were smiling like this? He couldn't tear his eyes from you, you were enchanting, ethereal…
“ You both are so beautiful, but leave right now before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one.
“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. Alastor was being careful of every man who could touch you in any way. He didn’t think he would be able to have a polite gentleman's conversation if that were to happen. He looked at your feet, you were walking nicely with those heels, you weren’t even slipping on the frozen road.
After a thirty minute walk, you both find yourself in front of a huge house.Well, he already knew Alice was a daddy’s girl so he really wasn’t surprised, unlike you, from your expression, you didn't expect Alice to be this loaded.
You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours but hers was white and blue. She looked boringly angelic. He almost scoffed, please, was she supposed to be some kind of boring angel?
“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!”
After introducing yourself to some of Alice’s guests, you walked toward a buffet. He already remembered every name, every contact he could make right now.
“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”
“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big. Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie. Now, could the band he saw before entering, begin to play? He wanted to dance with you and show off your talents.
“ Alastor, is it you?”
Dang it.
He flashed the lady his most charming smile. She was the mayor’s daughter, Alyzée. So Alice was close with high society.. He began a conversation with her. He met her during a school event, he was playing the piano and she began to chat with him. She must be around her twenties and yet, she came to him. Perfect for him, she could be useful.
He looked at the band as they began to play songs. He almost flinched when the woman dragged him toward the dance floor. Well, he could afford to waste some dance with this woman before going back to you. The songs weren’t hard to keep up, so dancing with Alyzée was pleasant at most but he couldn't help but look to where you were.
He almost snapped Alyzée’s hand.
You were dancing with that John. Why was he here? He looked so underdressed, you weren’t going to dance with him once more would you? He spinned Alyzée, never letting you off his gaze. If that bastard were to throw you in the air…
He turned his face toward Alyzée as she began to talk about her father’s plan for New Orleans. Great, that would smooth his nerves. What did the man planned for the black community? He listened to her, still dancing. It wasn’t thrilling in the slightest but at least, he had some information on what was going on in the high sphere.
After some dances, another girl came to ask him for a dance. He gave her his usual smile and took her hand, thanking Alyzée for her information. Well, this new girl wasn’t useful in any way but she could be a distraction if she knew how to dance.
He snapped his head toward the scene as soon as your voice reached his ears. What were you doing on stage? You were astonishing. You held the crowd in the palm of your hand. You were controlling them with your voice, were you aware of that? You were a devil in disguise. Ooh, you were exquisite.
He suppressed a sigh as the woman tried to take his attention back. He couldn’t be impolite here, there were too many risks at stake. He danced with her, hoping for some kind of divine power to put an end to this clown show. He almost smirked when he heard you singing with much more vigor, the beat getting faster. Oh, how he loved those kinds of songs. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like his dance partner couldn’t keep up with him.
He flinched when he felt someone touch him and turned around.
There you were.
You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking him away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but he didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. He would bring your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. Your pupils were dilated, just like his, were you aware of that? And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air. Did you remember his promise to always catch? It seemed you did, because you already had your eyes closed before he lifted you in the air.
You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world.
Wasn’t living much more worth it when you were both together, dearest?
And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You both went back to the buffet after you gave back the microphone to the singer.
“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders.
“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water. Of course, you punk.
“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.” Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders. You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time and so was he now. He tugged you once more toward the dance floor, he promised you many dances after all.
After a while, he sat down with you at a table with some friend of Alice’s. He already knew where it was going to go.
“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady started at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?”
“ Yes, I have.”
He smirked. You were his first kiss, and everyone should be envious of him for that. But what he didn’t understand was when the question was asked to you, you said you’ve never kissed anyone. At first, he thought you were ashamed of having kissed him but it wasn’t what was shown on your face. You looked… hurt.
“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more and Alastor felt anger swirling up inside of him? Could someone shut this harlot?
“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly. Could they stop talking about you like you were some kind of prize? You must have been upset because you stood up and went into the garden behind the mansion. He stood up after a minute or so and joined you outside.
“ You are going to catch a cold.”
You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head. Hha.. you were being a brat right now?
“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.” he hummed, well, he could have guessed.
“ Why did you lie ?”
“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.
“ About your first kiss.” he really needed that answer.
“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. How could you be so stupid but so adorable at the same time? How?
“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”
“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you. He saw your body relaxed and you began to explain how it wasn’t a real kiss because in books bla bla.. He rolled his eyes as you looked away, why did you care about books? Were they the one writing what was going on between the both of you. His hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. Come on, don’t hide from him…
“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red. “ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, did you understand what he was trying to tell you?“ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”
“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile. That made his body relax. He smirked as he saw you closing your eyes. Oh no little lady, you hid yourself one or two many times tonight. You’ll let him watch your emotions.
“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.
“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”
“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking everywhere on his face while his gaze was focused on your eyes. You were nervous and excited. Did you feel this emptiness being fulfilled because of his presence like it was with yours? You did finish by closing your eyes as you kissed each other. How cute…
You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , he could still feel your breath against his mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.
“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?” Say it, say it, say it…
“ Alastor.”
“ How was it?”
“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. He could see your lipstick being less vivid than before. He must have some of your lipstick on his lips. He licked his lips.
“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”
He went back inside, keeping his jacket on your shoulder. It would be a shame for you to get sick. He sat back down and easily went back to the conversation that was being carried on. They were talking about how they wished the enemy would just drop dead. He smirked, they didn’t know how to kill but they wished for other people's death either way. How hypocritical.
He felt your hands on his tights. He took your hand in his, caressing your skin before looking at you. You were pointing to his own lips and he couldn’t help but grin harder. Alice must have told you about your lipstick. He leaned toward you.
“ You already want another one?”
You threw yourself back against your chair as Alastor was laughing, throwing his head back. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the both of you, confused and curious. You took your glass, hiding your face behind it as they tried to coat you to tell them what had happened. Alastor couldn’t help but talk first, clearly wanting to tease you.
“ I just reminded my dearest friend that being gluttonous was bad,” he said with a cunning smile. Oh, you looked so pissed ! “ You might get addicted!”
“ Unlike you, I don't have food all over my mouth.” You closed one eye, staring at him with the other as you drank from your glass.“ and as you know my dear Alastor, since our younger age, you always were the glutton one.” you smirked. Oho, were you trying to shut him up? Cute attempt.
“ You know that when I like something, I can’t help but crave more until there is nothing left for others to share.”
He grinned as you almost spat your water. 1-0. He won this fair and square.
“ Ooh Alastor, you have such a way with words. What else can that mouth do?” said a woman. He turned his gaze toward her, his smile still present.
“ It bites.”
Thank God, you wanted to go home. He shook some hands and waved at Alyzée before leaving with you. You were shaking, from the cold weather and, he supposed, from your heels. Well.. He kneeled and carried you in his arms and began walking toward your home.
“ You know you have lipstick on your lips?”
“ Well, yes. Dear, when you kissed me I could see that your lipstick wasn’t as clean as before. And with Alice’s reaction, it just confirmed my thoughts.” he smiled teasingly at you.
“ But… Why did you not wipe it?”
He shut his mouth. How could he explain that he wished to feel you longer on his lips. He wanted your taste on his tongue. He wanted to consume you like you were consuming his thoughts. He lost himself in his thoughts until you were in front of your doorstep.
“ I wanted to feel you a little longer.”
Seems like you understood he still wasn’t really sure about his feelings. You just held his hands between yours before opening the door, entering the silent house. He closed the door, watching around him, making sure there wasn't anything strange.
After checking on his mother he went into your bedroom where you were already ready to fall asleep still dressed up. He dragged you toward the bathroom and sat you on the bathtub’s edge. You were whining that you were oh so tired but he didn’t care. You needed to go to bed completely clean. He began to wipe your lips as you accepted your fate.
“ Good girl.” he smirked at you with a mocking glint in his eyes.
And there it was. You bit his finger and he felt his body react. He felt a shiver going from the top of his hand until the end of his legs. He knew you didn’t like being called a good girl, most of the time he used those terms when he was easily manipulating someone. But you weren’t like other people.
You were his oh so precious special person…
He leaned toward you, making you lean back, keeping his finger between your teeth, until your back was at the bottom of the bathtub. He climbed above you, his eyes never leaving yours.
“ I recall being the one who said that I bite…” he looked at you calmly as you stared at him with angry eyes. Did you know how it made him feel that you accepted that situation so easily? His hands had killed animals, his hands were drenched in their blood and soon enough his father’s blood. Yet, here you were, staying comfortably underneath him, like he wasn’t the most dangerous man you have ever met.
Would you accept him ? This question was beginning to bring him closer to madness than he would admit. Would you dirty yourself with him? Would you drenched your hands in blood and then cup gently his head with a sweet smile.
Would you be a sinner for him? with him?
Then he felt cold water on him. You just turned on the shower.. He smirked, was that a sign? You would be the one washing up his sins? Or did it mean you would always want a cleaner version of himself, that you couldn’t accept his bloodied self? You both cleaned up before you asked for his help in your bedroom. Seemed like you couldn’t take off your dress by yourself.
He approached you and dragged the zip down. You thanked him but didn’t move when you felt his gaze on your back.He wondered how he was looking at you? Like a hunter? Like a friend? Like a man? You turned your head toward him with a curious expression. He was still looking at your back with a straining smile. “ I hope nobody will ever backstab you… Can I..?” he whispered as he held his hand toward your back. You nodded and closed your eyes when you felt his other hand covered your eyes.
You were so compliant, never asking anything about his weird tendencies. He stared at your back, unharmed, unlike his. He traced the scars his father did on his back, but on yours. But unlike his fathers, his fingers were gentle against your skin. You weren’t flinching, afraid of him. You were even pressing yourself against his hands. Would you still have done it if you knew his thoughts? His delirious thoughts about killing his father? Would you still let his dirty hands touch you?
“ Alastor..” you whispered and he hummed in response. “ Can I… Can I do the same..?”
…
Could you do the same..? He wished for it. He wanted you to see him, as he was. But tonight, he would be a coward.
“ If you keep your eyes closed.”
He took off his shirt and sat down on your bed, his back facing you. His body was tense, he knew you would keep your eyes closed but he felt like you could see right through him. That in any moment you would scream at him to leave you alone. That he was the same kind of monster as his father.
But this moment never came. Your hands were so gentle against his bruised skin, against his broken self. You asked him if he was okay multiple times, making sure he was still with you. How perfect could you be? He tried to keep himself from hugging you, letting you map his back with your hands.
“ You are beautiful, Alastor.”
“ You say that because you keep your eyes closed when you are with me.”
“ Then, let me open them.”
“...No, not yet.”
Please, let him believe you were accepting as he was right now.
“ Alright.” you said softly. You didn’t ask, as always, letting him be ready to come to you. He didn’t deserve you and yet, he would destroy anyone that would try to keep you away from him. He flinched when he felt your lips against one of his scars. You began to apologize but he stopped you, you didn’t have to apologize. Never.
He moved, making you step back. He was now sitting in front of you, with his legs opened and you in between, on your knees. Your eyes were still closed, as instructed. He smiled, you didn’t break his trust, you never will, right?
“ Alastor.. Where..?”
“ I’m here, you are caged between my legs right now.” he said with a teasing smirk.
You scoffed at the choice of his words.
“ I’m caged ?” you teased him, tilting your head against his legs.
“ With me.” he kissed you on your forehead.” Would you like that? Being caged with me?” he whispered almost desperately.
“ Yes.”
Oh Lord.
He tugged you against his torso, embracing you as hard as he could. You didn’t hesitate, you would be ready to throw yourself to the flames with him. How could he not crave you? Maybe you would accept him, you’ll just need more time than he thought. He kissed your forehead before putting back his shirt. He went downstairs to prepare your hot chocolate. He grimaced as he smelt the scent. How could you drink this…
He walked quietly upstairs and gave you your drink which you happily drank. You fell asleep almost immediately. He would almost be envious as he looked at your sleeping form before letting himself rest for an hour or two.
The next morning, everyone was giving their presents. He smiled when you gave him a watch. He didn’t know why, but he knew deep inside that this watch would keep working even in the woods or even through Hell itself.
—
Alastor was helping his mother clean the house. She hurted her hips so he was taking care of lifting the heavy boxes he found in the cave. His mother never wanted him to go there, sometimes he respected until this day. She was the one asking him to clean there and he was excited. What kind of secret would he find?
Nothing much but books and some animal’s skeletons. He sat on an old chair and leaned against a shelf a little too hard which made a book fall. He sighed as he took the book and stared at him. What was that… It looked like a journal, almost the same as the one he had in his bedroom since he could write. He opened it and began to read.
It was a Voodoo’s book. Explaining its origins and even more interesting, what could be done with it. Alastor couldn’t help but smile as he began to read spells about soul binding, trapping souls inside objects… What was needed, for each spell, were animal sacrifices to feed and beckon the spirits. Was that why his mother would ask him to hunt, but sometimes, never cooking the animals?
He smirked. If he could control or work with those spirits… He would be unstoppable. From what he read, it was in his blood but he’ll be the judge of that, if spirits were useful or not, if they existed or not. He shut the book. He needed more information, he needed to practice. He needed a place where he could learn without being bothered. He bit his lips, the cave must be his mother’s sacred place, it wouldn’t feel right to taint it with his dark goals. He held the book against his chest as he went to his bedroom quietly.
He’ll find a place.
He sat on his bed and began to read the soul binding spells. He needed your blood and his, and an object that would bind us together, an object that had a powerful meaning for the both of you. He frowned as he looked at all the things he needed to own before making the spells. He laid on his bed. An object that binds you together. Why not his microphone from when he was younger? You both had fun with it, it wasn’t working anymore but still…
His eyes settled on Eamon.
Perfect.
Eamon was the best material bond between the both of you. He smiled as he stroked the plushie’s fur. When you first gave it to him, the fawn had pure white fur, now it was mostly red because of him…
He put the fawn down. He needed to see you and maybe find a clue if you would accept his new interests. He knew voodoo was seen as a barbaric religion, but from what he read, it was just like any other one. He took his coat and asked his mother if she needed any more help which she declined.
He walked toward your home but your mother told him you were having your period and this one was particularly painful. He blinked. Didn’t you have your period earlier this month? He remembered the first time you had your period he didn’t understand. You were bleeding but weren’t injured. He almost had a panic attack when you were shouting at him, telling him to leave you alone. You didn’t deserve this pain. When he asked his mother about it, she explained what menstruation was about. He really was impressed by women.
But if you were having your period, again, he wouldn’t bother you. He slid a chocolate bar under your bedroom’s door after you told him you were going to rest today. He could hear the lie in your voice but when you were on your period you would always lie by telling him you were feeling better, or that you weren’t hungry.
He decided to take a relaxing walk but after a while, he could feel someone was trying to follow him. Well, he couldn’t do what he wanted to do today… He went into a coffee shop, some boys from school came to him but he didn’t care about them, he was trying to find his mysterious stalker. He couldn’t feel any murderous aura in their stare but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.
When he left the coffee shop, he waited in an alley and smirked when he found the person who had been following him all afternoon.
“ May I know why you are following me, my goodfella?”
He had a knife in his pocket, he really didn’t want to use it but maybe, in front of him, was your stalker. He needed more information but the person ran away. Alastor scoffed, the only person who could outrun him was you. He ran after the stalker but then realized.
He couldn't catch them.
Was he running after you? He biforked into another alley, running toward your home. If you weren’t in bed, that would mean that you were the one who had been following all afternoon. But why?
He entered your home by slamming the door, startling your mother but he kept running until he heard your voice in pain. He opened your door and there you were, in your bed sweating although the windows were wide open. He went to close it and stared at the tree near the opening. Did you use a tree to leave your room? He could see some dirt on the edge of your windows. So you were following him all afternoon…
“ Well my dear, I was chasing what I think could be your stalker.” you stared at him with wide eyes. “But what was worrisome was that when I chased them, they ran into your house’s direction. You haven’t seen anything suspicious my friend ?” he stared at you with his usual smile. You shook your head but he could see you were lying. He didn’t say anything, you were surely trying to find a present for his birthday. But why did you feel the need to lie to him? He kissed your forehead before leaving you alone, he didn’t like it when you were lying to him, no matter the subject.
He went back home and began to read the Voodoo’s book while taking notes in his journal. He didn’t know why but all the information about some rituals were sticking in his mind effortlessly.
It was so interesting, he really hoped you would understand him.
—
He was talking with your mother, with some sweets he had made with his mom. He knew you always wanted chocolate when you were on your period, if you really were on your period right now, so he would just make some. Sometimes he would prank you by putting some spice in the chocolate and it was always a hilarious sight when you realized what he had done.
Your mother had told him you went out with Alice and you should be back soon enough. He didn’t mind talking with your mother, she would tell him cute stories about you before you came settling in New Orleans. But as the stories were being told, he was getting more and more agitated.
You were still outside with Alice as the weather was beginning to get more and more dangerous. He asked your mother if he could use the telephone which she agreed to. He called Alice’s house. Maybe you decided to sleep there because of the weather.
“ Yes, Alice speaking.”
“ Where is she?” he asked, he didn’t really cared for Alice, he needed to know you were okay.
“ Oh.. She.. She is with me of course, we were getting ready to sleep because of the weather!”
She was lying.
That meant that you weren’t with Alice. Where were you then?
“ Alice, if you cared about you pathetic life, you are going to tell me where my dearest friend is.” he spoke calmly, hiding his inner turmoils.
“ I… I can’t, she would hate me if I were to tell you…”
He was sure he was going to destroy the telephone from anger. He was sure it was about his birthday.
“ If it’s for my birthday, I know” he lied “ So where is she? The radio said there will be a snowstorm soon enough.”
Alice mumbled something before telling him the truth. You were in an unknown house, far from here, alone. He laughed nervously, asking for the address. Alice gave it to him and he hung up. He went to your mother, asking for your father’s car. She seemed surprised but when he said that you were alone in a house far from here, she gave him the key. If he was lucky, he would be able to arrive before the snowstorm hit.
He knew how to drive, he learned by himself in secret. He took the car and drove for about an hour , following Alice's instruction, until he saw a house. The snowstorm was already raging but he needed to see if you were okay. Didn’t you know there were crazy people who would break into a lady's house who was living alone?
He walked toward the house, trying to see something. Fortunately for him he arrived near the door, but slid because of the ice and slammed against the door. Dang it. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Good, you weren’t that naive yet. He stepped back and looked at the roof. He needed to be careful because with the snow and the wind, he could fall but he could manage to enter by the window.
He climbed easily and then broke the window with his foot before entering the room. He heard your scream and ran toward you, were you hurt, did someone was with you? He only had the time to see you running through a backdoor.
Damn it.
He couldn’t let you run away, you were faster than him, he would lose you easily. He shouted your name as he ran after you. He could only see your shadow getting farer and farer from him. He felt his chest hurt at the thought of losing you here. He screamed your name, desperately. Please, just hear him…
He stopped himself as he felt ice under his foot. It seemed like a frozen lake.
“ Stay away !” you shouted, the wind carrying your voice to him. “ I’m not afraid of killing you !”
You were there, he could hear you so if he screamed, you would hear him too. He tried to take a step on the frozen lake but he could hear the cracks getting louder. He couldn’t risk taking another step.
“Look at me!”
He felt his body relaxed as he saw your frame getting closer to him before you disappeared.
You just fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
You fell down the lake.
He didn’t wait any longer and punched the ice with his bare hands, trying to widen the hole. He jumped into the water, not even caring about the cold. He opened his eyes and there you were, sinking peacefully away from him. He swam toward you, tugged you against him before swimming toward the surface but he couldn’t find the hole he came from. He punched the ice, trying to break it once more. He punched it again, one time, two times, and then his hand traversed the ice, breaking his skin. He was feeling his body trying to force him to open his mouth to catch some air.
Not yet.
He smashed the ice with his fists and lifted you out of the water, he didn’t care if he didn’t have air yet, he needed you to be safe first. He pushed you out of the water before getting his head out of it. He gasped as he grasped the edge of the ice, cutting himself once more. He lifted himself off the water and immediately went toward you.
“ No, no, open your eyes. Look at me!” He shook your shoulder but you stayed silent. He put his head against your chest. Your heart was still beating. He forced you to breathe by performing mouth to mouth. He looked at you as you coughed the water that was in your lungs. Now you need to get somewhere warm. He carried you and ran toward the cottage and thanks to some kind of miracle, he managed to find his way back through the snowstorm. He lit up the fire in the chimney and ran in the house, taking every blanket he could find. He undressed you until you were left in your undergarments. He put the blankets around you, he didn’t care about himself, your safety was his priority.
He talked to you, begging you to open your eyes for thirty minutes. He kissed your lips, praying that you would just wake up. He looked at you as you pushed him, coughing. He closed his eyes, he was relieved but then anger began taking place in his body. You almost died tonight. You almost ran away from him, somewhere he couldn’t follow.
“ What are you doing here..?”
“ Is that the first question you want to ask me ?” His voice was cold, his face was stoic, his usual smile non-existent. He was shaking with anger and fear. “ What were you thinking going out in a bloody snowstorm? Have you lost your mind ?” he stood up, raising his voice at you.
He didn’t understand why, but you were angry too.
“ I was doing great before you came along! Why are you here?”
“ There is a bloody stalker after you and you decide to stay alone in a deserted area ? Tell me dear, are you trying to impress me with your stupidity because you succeeded.Congratulations.” he said mockingly as he sat on the sofa, trying to dry his hair with a towel, now that you were okay he needed to warm his body and the first step was drying his hair.
“ I was preparing your birthday, it was supposed to be a surprise !”
“ My birthday’s not worthwhile if you are not by my side!” he shouted, throwing the towel on the floor, his eyes shining with fury. He came to you and tugged you closer by grabbing the necklace he had given you on Christmas. “ What a charming surprise it would have been, finding your dead body in the snow ! Celebrating my birthday would mean celebrating your death? Oh, you really are spoiling me, my friend. You really are taking the cake!” he spat as he stared at you. What were you thinking for heaven’s sake!
“ Don’t shout at me !”
“ Don’t play with your life then!” He took the knife you brought with you before running away from his wet pants.” What did you think you could have done with that? Would you stab a man my dear, tell me, would you do it?” he taunted you, mocked you, moving the knife in front of your eyes. “ Do you know how to kill, my dearest?” his voice was low, menacing, he wanted you to speak to him. Stop with the lies; speak what’s on your mind.
And then you cried while telling you would have stabbed someone, you would have killed someone so you could live longer with him. He hugged you as he felt his heart beat faster. Were you like him? Maybe it was the perfect time for him to come clean…
After explaining what had happened he took off his shirt, and your eyes immediately fell upon his scars. You came toward him without hesitating, you always came to him no matter his state.. You were his… his everything. He wanted you to know that.
He softly took your hand in his and with a soft sigh, kissed the back of it. He kissed the back of your hand, once, twice.. before tugging you against him and kissing your lips avidly. He needed to feel you against him, you were alive, safely caged in his arms.
He laid you down on the floor as he kissed your neck, your cheeks, your lips. He couldn’t get enough of you. He felt like he was starving. You were panting, gripping his hair. Were you feeling like him? Like a starved monster? Did you feel the need to crawl inside him like he felt it with you? He wanted to molded into you. To become one with you.
After a few minutes, he stopped, panting against your chest. You were still gripping his hair.
“ Don’t ever… Don’t ever do that again my dear…Don’t ever go somewhere I can’t find you...”
You hugged him, pressing his head against your warm chest.
“ I promise.”
He sighed as you answered without messing a beat. Yes, he knew you would understand him. He could talk to you about him.. About his desires. But for now, you needed to rest. You laid him on the sofa and almost fell asleep immediately, but he couldn’t bear this image right now so he asked you to keep your eyes open for a little while.
You tried so much to stay awake for his sake he couldn’t help but let you sleep. He didn’t sleep that night, he counted your breathing and your heartbeat. He counted them until you woke up the next morning as he was playing with your hair.
You caressed his scars and then asked the questions he knew you would ask.
“ Who did this to you..?”
Now, it was the time to show the monster he was inside. A monster that seemed to be tamed only for you but was craving to exist.
“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her. It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter, waiting for you to ask about the things that would make you run away but once more you surprised him.
“ I hope he dies during the war.”
He almost moaned at your sentence. He stared at your face, trying to see if there was something darker lurking inside you. It was a gamble he didn’t want to risk but…
“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”
He couldn’t help but grinned as you began to explain how he shouldn’t be sorry for his parents, that his father should get killed the worst way possible. You were perfect. He kissed you hungrily, your word of death against his father brought him such joy.
“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as he dug his nails into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.” I want to be the one to kill him.”
You didn’t seem disgusted by the idea. Shocked, yes, but not screaming at him how it wasn’t a good idea. You seemed a little lost but weren’t against his idea.
“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile, he remembered when you were younger you were bragging about the prince charming killing his enemies to save the princess, it was the same right now.
“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously.
Oh how he adored you. He kissed your face multiple times before going on about how he was going to kill his father. He's been thinking about it forever.
And then you told him you would be by his side if needed. He felt like he could cry and laugh at the same time. You were accepting him. Fully. You were accepting him, Alastor and the demon that was within himself. You were accepting them both.
“ Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me? ” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand.
His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions.
“ Would you accept my mad affection?”
And you said yes. You were happy giving up on a normal life by chaining yourself to him. But he needed more, he was always greedy with you. He needed a bond that transcended human’s mind. So he talked about his discovery about voodoo and talked about soul bounding.
You didn’t even wait to consider his offer, you accepted it once more.
You decided to damned yourself with him.
You ran to the kitchen to take a knife to cut you, so you and him would be bonded together forever. Even death wouldn’t be able to tear you apart. He felt like he was flying, he was feeling so light. You would hurt yourself for him if it means staying with him.
If he could, he would tear out his heart to give it to you.
You were his.
His future wife.
His partner in crime.
You would be his happy ending.
—
“ Happy birthday Alastor!”
He smiled as everyone cheered for him. There was you, sitting next to him, Alyzée, Mimzy, Alice, Victor and some extras at the table. He was now 23. How time flies.
He was beaming as the attention was on him. He told everyone about his new job as a radio host which made you cheer the loudest. Of course his future wife would be the most delighted. He couldn’t wait to tell you his father was back home.
Would you be excited? Nervous? Happy? Oh, he couldn’t wait to share the news with you.
At 3am you decided to go home, so he walked you back to your house. Before saying goodbye he kissed the back of your hand and shared that oh so delicious news.
You smiled widely at him before cupping his face and kissed him. He couldn’t help himself; he pinned you against the front door as he demanded you to open your mouth so he could devour you.
You were just as eager as him. His prey was coming back home.
You would soon be bound to him.
He step back as he heard you panted his name. You were asking for his plan. You were asking about his plan to kill someone. He must be the luckiest man in all New Orleans, no doubt about it. He asked to come meet him in a week, he needed to see if his bastard had been changed by the war or not. Depending on that information, he would kill him differently.
He kissed your forehead before going back home with a smile so wide he almost didn’t recognize himself in a shop’s vitrine. How odd… He almost thought he saw his eyes reddened.
He observed his father for a whole week. The bastard hasn't changed at all, he was just more full of himself than before the war. Perfect, he knew how he would kill him, he just needed to share it with you.
When you came to his house, he took you in his bedroom and gave you a hunting outfit, before tugging you toward the woods with two guns. You seemed confused about his hunting game but it was mostly because he wanted to catch you. A revenge for his younger self who hasn’t ever been able to catch you once you were running from him.
He explained the rules to you and you seemed excited by the game. Perfect. He waited 10 minutes after you entered the woods before going inside himself. He knew those woods like the back of his hand, he could see where you ran, where you began to walk…
He walked toward the bushes where he could see the rifle he had given you. Were you hiding in the bushes? He waited a few seconds then smirked. He knew you couldn’t stay still for more than 3 minutes, that meant you had tried to bait him. He felt a shiver in his spine, you were playing the game like a champ! But he could hear your breathing behind the tree, right here.
“ Very intelligent darling, I almost fell for it.” He pointed his weapon toward your direction. “ But now, you are harmless.”
You step out from the tree, walking toward Alastor with a cute faked pout. He smirked, were you giving up? But then you threw the paint’s bullet and smashed one on his weapon.
“ Now, you are harmless too, right?” you taunted him as he stared at you with his eyes wide open. His smile was getting bigger and bigger, you were so…entrancing. He moved his hand to cup your cheek but you ran from him. Again..
But this time,unlike when he was younger, he could run as fast as you, he could run faster than you. His smile widened as he tackled you on the ground. You were his favorite prey, a prey he would never kill but that he would always run after. Seeing your surprised expression was so worth it.
“ Caught you.”
He had waited to say those words to you. He had caught you, he had trapped you with him. Through a wedding, through a voodoo curse. Your soul and his were tangled in a way that nobody could separate you.
“ Now, what about the plan?” you asked eagerly. He smirked. You were always the one asking first about the plan about killing his father, were you aware of that? After planning a plan, you asked the question he was dying to answer.
“ When will it happen ?”
“ Tonight, dearest.”
He was waiting for you to ask for more time, but you just nodded, ready to start your first sin together.
He went back home with you, you were so nervous you decided to take a nap in his bedroom while holding Eamon. He went to check on you and approached your sleeping form. He looked at the fawn.
“ Protect her tonight.”
He went out to cut wood, thinking about all the possibilities that could happen tonight. He was so excited, were you feeling like him? He snapped back in reality when he heard Husker hissing at him. He stared at the cat who hissed at him before looking toward his home. Huh.. He went back inside and almost bit his lips until blood would drip. His father was standing too close to you, and from your expression, he must have said something that you didn’t like.
“ Father, are you ready for our hunting session?” Alastor asked with his usual smile, observing your body relaxing at his voice. He took the rifle from the wall and put them on the table. He looked at you before going into the kitchen with his father. What was it called..? Tragic irony was it? His father was talking about the people he had killed during the war although he was going to get killed tonight. How funny.
He looked at you as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t wearing your necklace. Why? As he walked next to you to follow his father into the living room so he could take the weapon, you held his hand while showing him your neck.
Hah, You must have used your necklace to show him which one was the gun he should choose. How clever.
“ Are you coming boy, I don't have all night long!”
“ I know, Father.” You won’t be seeing the sun tomorrow.
He took his weapon with your necklace around it. It felt like you would be with him during his vengeance. How sweet.
He left his house to walk toward the woods with his father. One last hunting session. Two men. But only one hunter and one prey.
“ You really grew up, Alastor.” he turned his head toward his father as they kept walking deep into the forest. “ You’ve even found a little accomplice.” He kept his smile but furrowed his eyebrows. What was he talking about?
His father pointed his rifle toward nowhere and shot. Alastor froze. Why was his father’s weapon armed? He knew you would never betray him. So that meant, his father knew about his plan? How?
Before he could speak, his father hit him in the face with the back of his weapon. He didn’t know why but he felt like he was back at 8 years old, where he couldn’t do anything against his father. He was still alone. He let his father drag him into the woods. He was staring at the sky.
“ Did you really think I wouldn’t check my gun, boy? You really should have gone to war, maybe you would learn some things or two.” he said as threw him on the floor. He looked at his father as he pointed the rifle against his forehead. Mhn, was he going to die here? No chance. He knew that he wasn’t alone anymore, you were waiting for him at home. So it was better for him to play the weak boy his father was seeing in him before turning the tables around.
His father kept talking about how he was a disgrace. He was waiting for the perfect timing but then he saw movement. Damn it, if people were to see this scene, it would be annoyingly difficult to explain. He quickly looked on the side and froze.
It was you.
You were walking quietly toward his father with a knife in your hand, never letting your eyes drift away from the man's back. Now, what would you do? If you were to stab his father, he would pull the trigger and kill him on the spot. He wouldn’t be mad at you of course, but he didn’t wish to be killed by his father.
But once again, you surprised him by helding the blade against his father’s throat, taking away his father’s attention from him.
Then, everything went down quickly.
The bastard elbowed you on the nose, making you fall on the snow with a blessing nose. He almost snapped when he saw his father pointed his weapon toward you. He tackled him on the floor, wrestling him, trying to take the rifle back. He didn’t expect the war to help his father in being better at fighting, he thought the coward would hide himself under his camarades’s corpses.
His father kicked him off him, and was ready to shoot him but you jumped on the weapon, putting the rifle’s head toward the ground. Were you aware you were screaming?
“ Just die already !”
He felt your scream in his soul. You were screaming out loud what his younger self was thinking. He stood up once he saw his father punching you, but before he could shoot him, you raised your knife and sank it into his father’s tights.
“ Don’t hurt him anymore!” you cried as you raised your knife once more and plugged it into his thighs once more.
Don’t hurt us anymore. Said his younger self.
His father hit you with the rifle, making you fall into the snow once more. You stood up quickly and jumped on him, raising your knife once more. Alastor paled as he saw his father trying to headshot you, but you were so deep into bloodlust that you weren’t even aware of it. You both needed to calm down. Alastor ran toward you and tackled you on the ground, sighing in relief when he heard the gunshot hitting nobody.
Alastor stood up just before taking the knife of your hand. He would fight his father with your knife, from what he heard, his father was out of bullets, he already used two of them.
“ You little cunt. Stabbing me like you had the right.” spat his father. You stood up quickly next to Alastor who was breathing as hard as you. “ Killing you will be the easiest thing I've ever done. After fucking your mother, of course, right Alastor?”
He felt something snapped inside his mind.
He ran toward him, with a smile so wide he wondered if that was blood of saliva dripping down his chin. He avoided his father’s punches like a dance he had learned by heart. He still got touched by his fists but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. He managed to cut his father on his cheeks or his forearms. He needed to cut a tendon so he wouldn’t be able to move his muscles. He was breathing hard while his father seemed more in his element and the bastard easily disarmed him of his knife. Stupid war training.
He saw you behind his father with your necklace. That meant you have found his gun, you must have put it somewhere behind him so he could easily take it. He punched his father with much more force which sended him stumbling toward you. What were you trying to do?
He felt his heart skip a bit.
With the necklace he had given you for Christmas, you were strangling his father, forcing him to walk backward, trying to grab the thing that was bruising his neck. He needed to act fast. He began to punch his father in the face as you forced the bastard to bend his neck for him to be able to breathe. You were perfect.
With a roar, his father punched him so hard he fell backward. Fuck, he needed to stand up quickly before the bastard touched you. He looked behind him and smiled cunningly, his gun was there. You really did put the gun not too far away from him. You were just as clever as him.
He turned his head toward you when he heard you scream. He thought you were being hit but you were clawing at his father, biting him, trying to hurt him as much as he hard hurt his younger self. He took the rifle and pointed toward his father as the bastard threw you on the snow.
“ Don’t move, Father.”
But of course, the devil had his tricks too. He held you against his chest, his arms against your throat. Alastor grimaced as he saw his father kiss your cheeks. He will kill him. How dared he touch you?
He will kill him, kill him, killhimkillhimkillhim
He was shaking from anger, he couldn’t let you die. He needed to find a plan quickly. The devil was beginning to strangle you from behind. He was ready to throw his weapon in the snow but then you did something amazing.
You tore off one of the bastard’s eyes.
Those eyes who would look at him with disdain, disgusted, you tore one off. And you didn’t stop there, like a punishment coming from heaven you jumped on his father and began to hit him repeatedly with a rock you found. Alastor walked toward you as you kept screaming, he felt like you were doing what he couldn't do anymore. Letting it all out.
You were beautiful. A vengeful spirit.
His father pushed you off but you were already getting ready to finish him so he stopped you with a hand against your shoulder. Would you recognize him in your blinding fury?
“ Alastor…” you said in relief. He stared at your bloodied face, you were absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t help himself, he kissed you tenderly, trying to send you his thanks through the kiss. The kiss tasted like blood.
The kiss tasted like a victorious future for the both of you.
“ You crazy bitch!” the man spat as he tried to stand up. Alastor walked calmly toward the man with his knife and his gun. He stood in front of his father with a scary smile before dropping to his knees, and began to stab his father multiple times while laughing as the man was screaming in pain. He couldn’t stop laughing, he was careful not to sink the knife too deep, it would be a shame to kill him too quickly. Should he give his father the same scars he had given him? Should he cut his tongue so he couldn’t say such disgusting words against him or his mother?
He felt your hand on his shoulder and looked as you sat next to him. You were like a fallen angel, all bloodied, surrendered by bloodied snow. Were you aware of the effect you had on him right now?
Alastor held you the knife.
“ Would you like to try my darling?”
“ I tore his eye off, I think I’m good.” you laughed, rolling your eyes, not even caring about the man’s moans of pain.
“ Oh right, it was an amazing sight, why don’t you give it to me?” he held his palm to you and you gladly gave him his father’s eyes. “ What do we say, an eye for an eye?” he laughed as he stared at the eyeball. Maybe he will keep it as a souvenir.
“ You.. both are bat shit crazy..” spat his father underneath him. Alastor hummed before leaning toward his father’s face with a grin almost too big for his face.
“ You should smile more, Father, you only die once after all!” he said as he began to carve a smile into his father’s skin. The man was screaming from the pain and he couldn’t help but giggled. How pathetic, he didn’t remember screaming when his father was beating him. He felt strong like this, but as he was ready to finish his father off, he almost felt vulnerable. Would you stay with him as he kills his father?You were watching him as his worst, but that's what he was. You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle. Seems like yes, you knew what you were choosing. “ Now, you look ready for your final moments!” He stood up and took his rifle, pointing it to his father’s forehead.
“ What would your parents think, lady?” his father spat as he stared at you with his only eyes.
“ I don’t know what my parents are thinking, but Marie thanked me for taking care of the trash.” you smiled sweetly at him before standing up, next to Alastor. Alastor was staring at you, did his Mother know about his plan?
“ Go to hell.. Both of you…”
“ We’ll see you there then. And you better hide yourself, I can’t wait to kill you once more.” you smiled as you put your hand around Alastor's, the one ready to shoot. You stared softly at Alastor. You were his everything, you accepted to fall in hell with him. But just like he promised you, he will catch you.
“ Darling, will you marry me?”
“ With pleasure.”
And then you both pulled the trigger.
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