#spoopy szn 2022
Text
TEMPTED
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler (Vampire!Austin)
Requested: nope
Prompt: He's horrifying, terrifying, evil. A blood-sucking monster. But a monster who happens to be extremely alluring and drop-dead gorgeous. A monster whose very existence has TEMPTED you into doing the unthinkable.
TW: Blood, mentions of death
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 6787
A/N: Someone tell me why the FUCK this man in the middle pic looks EXACTLY like Austin???? It's not him - idk who it is I found it on Pinterest - but I'm kinda !!!!
Part one of the Supernatural Series. See all three parts by checking out my #SupernaturalSeries tag.
🦋 mila
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You lift your neck up as you observe your face in the mirror. Without even looking, your fingers reach down and latch onto the diamond necklace that was gifted to you. You raise it onto your neck and hold it up to the skin, imagining what it will look like when it’s fastened securely around your throat. The choker is intricately designed and expertly engineered with a beautiful deep red ruby set in the center of two silver bat wings.
You jump in your seat as you hear scratching by your window. You rush over to it, unfastening the curtains and pulling them apart. You yelp in shock as a little black object floats around in circles, bouncing against the window pane. Releasing a relieved breath, you unlatch the lock and open the window. It's a bat with something rather large in its mouth. It drops the object onto the window sill before taking off into the orange autumn sky. You chuckle and reach down to pick up the letter and package that the bat delivered. You bite your lip in excitement as you immediately recognize the elegant black cursive script on the envelope.
My Life, it reads.
You relatch the window and flop on your bed to open and read the letter. The familiar deep red seal closes the back with the symbol of a wilted rose. His family stamp After ripping the envelope open and pulling out a piece of parchment, your eyes read down the page.
My dearest Y/N,
I require your presence this evening at the mansion. I expect you to arrive promptly around nine in the evening, dressed in the garment which I have enclosed in this package. You know how I like your makeup and hair.
And lest you forget the jewels I gifted you last week. They should match wonderfully with the dress I have procured for our rendezvous this evening.
You know where I am. As always, I shall be awaiting your arrival and shall not breathe easily until we are together again.
Your love in eternity,
Aus x
You giggle to yourself at the contents of the letter. Austin has no issue speaking like someone who lives in the twenty-first century, but he likes to pretend that he’s still stuck in the 1800s whenever he writes you letters. You carefully refold the letter and then place it back into the envelope to save it along with all the others you’d received.
Taking the soft package, you untie the red ribbon and use the strings to open the leather pouch. You pull out a long burgundy velvet dress and fluff it up so that you can take a look at it. You hold it in front of yourself by the floor-length mirror and smile as you slide your fingers along the soft fabric.
Glancing behind you at the clock, you see that it’s already approaching seven o’clock, which means you have less than two hours to get ready and drive over to the mansion if you’re going to arrive on time. You immediately start getting ready, preparing your makeup and hair the way you know he likes it: a bold red lip and your hair off your neck and shoulders. You accessorize using the diamond necklace, a few matching bracelets, and a pair of delicate diamond earrings - all items which Austin had gifted you over the years you’ve had this little arrangement.
You pull the dress on as carefully as possible and smile to yourself as you evaluate your figure in the mirror. As usual, the dress is absolutely beautiful. It hugs your frame in all the right places and the color looks magnificent with your skin tone. It shimmers in the light when you move and it has a classy leg slit that makes you look tall and lean. Just as you pin your hair into place, your phone rings from its place beside the bed. Rushing over, you see your best friend’s name on the caller ID and answer.
“Hey what’s up?”
“Hi, I was just calling to see if you wanted to do something tonight?” they say.
“Oh, I’d love to but I’m sorry I can’t. I’m actually on my way out to see Austin tonight,” you respond as you carefully and expertly position pins to secure your hairstyle.
“Again? Didn’t you just see him last week?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m going again tonight.”
“I still don’t fully understand what your relationship is with this man. Isn’t he basically just your sugar daddy?”
You pause and heave a sigh. It’s actually quite difficult to explain your relationship with Austin. You can’t tell anyone the truth, anyway, because it would put him at risk. If they believed you, that is. Most people would probably just judge you for lying and making up some ridiculous story to cover for the fact that you basically have a sugar daddy.
Austin is…a being that many people don’t believe exists. And if they did believe in his existence, they would be terrified and utterly frightened of him. He would probably be killed on the spot if they could really see him. Even though Twilight revolutionized vampire appreciation, they're still considered to be fantastical beings by most sane people.
“Not…exactly. I just go over every couple of weeks to keep him company. He cooks dinner and we just talk or watch movies and stuff. He doesn’t get out much so it’s all just to keep him connected to the world.”
“It literally sounds like you’re visiting a nursing home, Y/N. But let’s not forget about the part where he literally pays you with jewelry every single day for having sex with him.”
“Excuse me, we have never had sex, actually! And it is not every day! He sends me something one time a week and he isn’t paying me. He’s just very rich and has no use for the money, so I think it makes him feel good to send me things. He’s just showing his gratitude. I think it really means a lot to him that I take the time to visit him.”
“Is this man married? Why doesn’t he leave the house? How old even is he?”
You bite your lip to keep from laughing at your friend’s questions. How old is he…what a loaded question that you couldn't even answer seriously if you wanted to.
“He’s old enough to be more mature than any man either of us has ever dated. No, of course, he’s not married. And he doesn’t leave the house because he…can’t really go out. He has a…condition that prevents him from going outside.”
“Mhm,” they sound unconvinced and sigh before continuing. “Okay, well, whatever. It’s not my life. But just let me know when you’re back for the night, okay? I hate the thought of you hanging out at that creepy ass mansion up on the hill with a mysterious agoraphobic sugar daddy who pays you in the ugliest jewelry I’ve ever seen.”
“It is not ugly! I like it!”
“Okay sorry, sorry! Seriously, though, let me know when you get there safely and when you get home.”
“I’ll do my best. But you have nothing to worry about. We trust each other and I know he’s a good man. Thanks for checking on me and we can meet up tomorrow. Margaritas?”
Your friend laughs on the other line.
“Sounds like a plan. Okay, I gotta go cause Jasper’s throwing a fit,” she says, referring to her newborn baby. “But I’ll text you about tomorrow. Love ya!”
“Love you,” you repeat before hanging up.
You stick one last pin into your hair and double-check your appearance. You smile. Wearing the things Austin sends you always makes you feel absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking. You aren’t totally sure why, but you always feel your sexiest when you’re wearing something you know he likes.
You would never tell any of your friends but over the last four years, you’ve fallen terribly in love with Austin. Not that it would ever work considering…but still, you can’t stop the emotions from pumping through your heart every time you lay eyes on him. With a deep breath, you shrug on your coat and grab your keys, slamming the door to your apartment behind you. Now that the sun has set, the air is chilly as it blows through the deep blue night. You climb into your car and flip the lights on, preparing for the long drive that you’ve memorized.
It’s not a particularly pleasant drive as it requires you to go up and down dark hills and around tight turns and dangerous bends without any railings or road precautions. Not to mention that you have to use your high beams virtually the entire time since there’s almost no light to be seen the entire way. Perhaps the most annoying and scary portion of the drive involves a veer off into the pitch-black woods and up a path that is existent only to the people who already know it's there. Thanks to Austin on that one.
Fortunately, you don’t run into any issues this time and the sky remains mostly clear for your journey. As usual, you don’t pass a single other car on the haunting road up to the ancient mansion. It’s not surprising considering the fact that nothing lies at the end of the road other than the mansion itself. But you still breathe a sigh of relief as you pull up the long cobblestone drive toward the makeshift garage in the back. You park and flip down the mirror to check your makeup once again.
Satisfied with your appearance, you text your friend to let them know you made it safely and then step out to make your way up to the front door. You pry the vase on the front porch up and grab the heavy metal skeleton key from underneath it. Before opening the door, you pause to admire the stained glass roses which are fashioned on the door. Although the entire mansion is beautiful, these stained glass windows are your personal favorite. You’ve never seen anything like them anywhere else in the world. You insert the key and turn it without issue, the grating of metal against metal signaling that the key is working. You push the door open and replace the key before shutting it quietly.
“Austin! I’m here,” you shout and listen back as the echo surrounds you.
As normal, you admire the mansion’s entryway while you wait for Austin. You know more about the house than anyone other than Austin. That was the main topic of conversation the very first time you met him here at the house. He’d told you about it's history.
“Le Manoir D'argent. The Silver Mansion, as it was called, was constructed in 1845 for a young duke and his wife. They had moved to America for better work opportunities. Tragically, she was murdered in the house when thieves broke in to steal some of the couple’s famous artwork. After she died, the duke returned to France, and the mansion was sold to a local banker and passed down from there. It fell into my uncle’s hands and I inherited it from him.”
The large entryway has a winding staircase with a balcony that overlooks the space and disappears into two hallways upstairs. On either side of the ground floor, there are two hallways that lead to different sections of the house. The floor is made of gorgeous Italian marble, creating a black and white checkerboard print. The walls throughout the house are covered in deep red, green, and blue wallpaper with mahogany wooden boarding lining the bottoms and tops. With its vaulted ceilings, the entryway itself feels three times as large as it actually is. Although the lighting is dim in most areas, the mansion doesn’t feel haunted or eerie at all. Actually, it feels rather cozy and warm. Austin keeps it exceptionally clean.
Your favorite detail in this room is the large portrait of the mansion’s master which hangs right beside the door. You step toward it and smile as you admire it. It’s done in the style of a renaissance portrait, with Austin wearing a fashionable black tuxedo and a red shirt underneath. Your eyes always gravitate toward his in the painting, glinting golden underneath his blonde, sandy curled locks. As you take a step closer, you tilt your head and notice something you’ve never seen before. In the painting, he’s holding a necklace or a pocketwatch…something silver in his hands. You are about to examine it further but Austin’s voice interrupts you.
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you,” he says excitedly.
You turn and smile happily at him as he approaches you and takes your hands in his. His fingers are always deathly cold but it doesn’t bother you one bit. He’s dressed very handsomely and your eyes immediately drop down to the skin on his chest that’s peeking through his partially-unbuttoned dress shirt. It’s blue, your favorite color on him, and pairs well with the black dress pants he's wearing. The sleeves to the top are already rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms.
He pulls you toward him, winding his arms around your body and pulling you against him. You rest your arms on his back and inhale his scent. Despite having been dead for almost two hundred years, he doesn’t smell it. Instead, he smells of musk and something warm and sweet like vanilla or cinnamon. It’s intoxicating and you find your eyelashes fluttering closed.
“I’ve missed you,” you whisper against the skin of his cheek and you can feel him release a content sigh. He releases you and holds you at arm's length so he can get a good look at you.
“Gorgeous, as always. How do you like the dress, darling?” he asks, offering you his elbow. You take it with a smile and allow him to lead you into the dining room.
“It’s absolutely beautiful, Austin. Thank you so much for gifting it to me. You know that you don’t have to send something every time we spend time together, right? Just being with you is gift enough for me.”
He leads you to your usual chair and pulls it out for you. As gentlemanly as always. You slide into the seat as gracefully as you can while he responds.
“It’s of no consequence to me,” he waves his hand dismissively. “You know that I have centuries of savings stored up, waiting to be spent on something. Why not spend it on you, the person who makes me happiest on this earth?”
He takes his seat at the head of the table, just to your right. You shrug and nod, not having any reason to argue with that. The plate that sits in front of you is steaming. You lift the silver lid and take a deep sniff. A smile spreads across your face.
“Oh, Austin, my favorite. It smells delicious,” you say and grab onto your utensil.
You’re actually quite hungry and the food smells so, so good. You spoon some into your mouth and close your eyes in pleasure at the wonderful familiar taste. Despite not eating very much human food, Austin is a wonderful cook and always has his kitchen stocked with your favorite snacks for when you visit.
“It’s wonderful,” you assure him and he smiles warmly, relaxing in his chair.
He brings his hand up to his lips, running a finger over his bottom lip as he watches you eat. Your eyes drop momentarily down to his place to see nothing there, as usual. The first time you’d visited, he’d eaten the same meal as you but each time after he’d refrained. He explained that vampires are capable of eating human food, it just doesn’t agree with their digestive system or do much anything to keep them healthy and alive.
Blood, of course, is the main staple of their diet and, as most people know nowadays, vampires prefer human blood over any other kind of blood. Although Austin sustains himself on animal blood, every vampire must drink human blood every so often to remain alive. Austin generally takes to the streets in small rural towns around the area for a full meal every now and then. He explained that he usually picks criminals or elderly people and does his best to stay away from young and healthy individuals. And he never, ever feeds on children.
The dining room is dimly lit with an exquisitely ornate crystalline chandelier that casts light in rainbow colors across the room. Here in more lighting, you start to notice how drawn and stretched Austin looks. Your eyes travel to his golden blonde hair, pulled back in a fashionable ponytail with a few strands swinging freely to frame his face. They follow down to his sparkling golden eyes, which look a bit greyer than normal, as does his normally pale white skin. He appears ashen, his cheeks caved into his skin more than you remember. But his jaw still cuts dramatically across his face, and his pink lips are as plump and elegant as ever. He’s still as handsome as the day you first met him. You smile as you scoop another spoonful of food into your mouth.
“Austin…in the portrait in the entryway, what are you holding? That little silver necklace? What is it?”
Austin’s eyes flick up to you and he clenches his jaw. You lean back, away from him, suddenly worried that you’ve said something wrong. Your eyes flick down to his fist which is clenched on the tabletop. His eyes follow your gaze and he releases his fingers with a sigh.
“It…belonged to my sister.”
You shake your head and lean back in. This is news to you.
“You had a sister?”
“Yes. Her name was Ashleigh,” he replies, nodding slowly. “She died when I was young.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What was she like?”
You watch for a moment in silence as his eyes flick back and forth on the black lace tablecloth in front of you. When he lifts his gaze to yours, he looks even more drawn and you can see the emotion clear on his face.
“Have I ever told you how I became a vampire?”
You pause for a moment to think and then shake your head.
“No, actually. I don’t think you have.”
He nods, almost solemnly and then intertwines his fingers on top of the table.
“My sister, Ashleigh, and I grew up in Normandy, on the coast of France. We lived in a wealthy family, although she always had dreams of coming to America. She met a man whom my mother and I did not approve of. But my father, with the final say, blessed their union and they were married. I remember always thinking that he was a very strange man, always pale and never very pleasant. But she loved him with her entire being and her whole heart. Anyway, she moved to America with him and they purchased a house, a mansion. He was a duke, extremely wealthy, and they were doing very well here. I came to visit, in the hopes that I would secure a job in the states. I have told you how magnificent the art collection here was, haven’t I?”
You nod and he continues.
“Do you remember the story of the art thieves that I told you? That they descended upon the house at night and killed the duchess in cold blood?”
“Yes, Duchess Butuiller. What does she have to…oh god”
“Duchess Butuiller, Ashleigh Butuiller, was my sister. I grew up with the name Agustin and only adopted the name Austin in the twentieth century. But those thieves…they weren’t thieves at all. They were hunters of my kind.”
“Was your sister…?”
“No, thank god. She was spared this fate that I wasn't. I was up late, reading in the library when they came into the house. I caught them. I tried to stop them but there were too many. I was stabbed in the chest and I…I have no memory of what passed until I woke up the next day as the creature I am today. The duke was who they were searching for. The bastard allowed my sister to be killed but to save my life, he turned me. Why he saved me I'll never understand. But it was he who turned me into this monster, this bloodsucker.”
A few moments of silence pass before you gather the courage to ask another question.
“Where is the duke now?”
“I have no idea and I’d like to keep it that way. After he explained what he’d done to me, he released the house to my ownership and left. I don’t know where he went or why, but if he were ever to come back here, I would end his life. No matter what it took.”
Silence settles again and you gulp as you reach up to place your hand on top of his. He averts your eyes but you can see the shimmering glint of a tear as he breathes heavily through his emotions.
“Should we move into the living room, now? It’s more comfortable in there," you suggest to ease the tension.
Austin nods and offers a small smile before rising to his feet. You notice him sway for a quick moment but he regains his balance quickly and holds out his hand for you to take. You place your fingers into his and stand. As soon as you take a step toward the living room, Austin wavers, slamming his hand onto the table for support.
“Austin!” you shout, moving to slide your arms underneath him and help support him.
He hisses and shakes his head, heaving a frustrated breath.
“Goddamn it,” he mutters under his breath, releasing your arms from his torso.
He moves to take another step but falters again, reaching for his head. You catch him and slowly but carefully drag him into the next room. You help him onto the loveseat and sit beside him, your fingers resting on top of his hand.
“How long has it been since you’ve…eaten?”
“I’m fine.”
“Austin,” you say disappointed. “How long has it been since you last fed?”
“A few days, maybe. I don’t know, Y/N.”
You sigh and angle your head down to better observe him. He looks awful, thin and blanched, and, most of all, tired.
“Well, you look terrible. You need to eat. Do you have any blood in the fridge?”
“No.”
“What about upstairs somewhere?”
“No.”
“Okay, well maybe I could run down to the pet store and-”
“Stop!” he suddenly shouts, whirling to glare at you.
You clamp your lips together and look at him, shocked into suppression. His angry expression immediately melts and his shoulders round in defeat.
“I’m fine, I already told you. Besides, I don’t need animal blood. I need…” his eyes flick toward you, dragging up and down your frame.
You gulp under his gaze. You and he have engaged in a variety of activities but sex and feedings are two areas you both avoid. Sure, you've allowed him to trail his teeth up and down your skin and even give you a little taste of what it would feel like to be bitten. You’ve even passingly offered for him to feed on you before, but he’s always denied your proposal. Every single time, without fail. He refuses to bring his teeth anywhere near you when he’s hungry for human blood. It's just too dangerous.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lowering the strap of your dress onto your shoulder and brushing the few strands of hair on your neck out of your way, to expose your skin to him completely.
“Feed on me,” you say as confidently as you can, although your heart is pounding painfully in your chest.
Austin’s head snaps up and he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. He says nothing although his eyes search your figure.
“Feed on me,” you repeat. “You need to eat and I know you can feed without turning me. So…I’m offering.”
Austin’s expression suddenly changes and he laughs. His eyes squeeze shut and he leans back against the loveseat, clutching his stomach.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” you ask, suddenly offended. You can’t place why but the thought of him not wanting your blood makes you angry. “Am I not good enough for you?”
The amusement falls from Austin’s face once again and he stares dryly at you.
“Y/N, we’re not doing this,” he says firmly, his lips pressed into a straight line. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest.
“Austin, stop being so stubborn! You practically passed out on the way in here. You need to eat,” you insist, gesturing toward your shoulder.
“No. Stop it now.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m offering-”
“Y/N, stop!”
“Are you afraid of turning me or-”
“Stop.”
If you weren’t so wrapped up in your anger, you would have noticed the way Austin’s long fingernails begin to dig into the pillow beside him. But you’re so inspired by your anger and frustration and concerned with his health that you continue to insist that he feed on you.
“If you would just trust me, then-”
Your breath catches in your throat as Austin’s fingers wrap harshly around your wrists. Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s slammed you back into the wall of the living room. His hands are holding your wrists hostage against the wall as he towers over you. You wince at the pain of his fingers around your arms. When you stare up into his eyes, your heart begins to beat faster. Your breath grows shaky with fear. His eyes are red. Not a little red, or in the process of changing red. They are red, a deep, sinister color almost as dark as your dress. He stares down at you with his almost black eyes, nostrils flared and fangs bared. You freeze under his touch, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
He’s never acted this way with you. You've never understood how people could think vampires are evil since Austin has never been anything but kind to you. But now, as you stare up into his haunting face, you understand it all. It’s as if the very bones under his skin have shifted to create this horror of a being that bares down on you now. He resembles nothing of his normal self and your heart is racing with terror. For the first time since you met him, you wonder if he’s going to hurt you.
“Is this what you want, Y/N?” he asks. “You want this version of me? The bloodsucking monster? The killer? Is this the man you want to see?”
You shiver under his grasp. He picks up your wrists and slams them against the wall. You wince and shake your head.
“No. I didn’t think so. This is not what you want. Leave now. And don’t ever come back.”
He releases your hands and returns to the couch, gently keeling over onto the cushions. You take a moment to collect yourself, breathing in and out slowly, and consider your options. Your first instinct is to return to him, to comfort him and to find some way to lift his pain. But what are you doing here in the first place? This is all just a reminder of what he’s capable of. That he could kill you at any moment. The fact that he hasn’t hurt you to this point is honestly astounding, even if it’d been by accident.
Resolved to get the hell out of here, you’re about to turn and grab your purse, but a loud burst of thunder strikes, and the old house rumbles. You turn and approach the window, lifting the dark red curtain to peer outside. You can barely see anything with the rain falling in sheaths everywhere you look. It would be extremely dangerous and probably impossible to make it home tonight.
“You can sleep upstairs in the guest room. I’ll fix it up for you,” Austin says.
You turn, about to tell him you’ll just take the couch, but he’s already gone. Damn vampire speed. You fish your phone out from your purse and text your friend quickly.
it’s storming really bad up here and too dangerous to drive home. but i'm safe
You hesitate, looking up from your phone and glancing at the wall against which Austin had harshly pushed you. Shaking your head, you continue typing.
i’m safe with austin. text you in the morning ❤️
With a deep breath, you grab your purse and head upstairs. Each step creaks with your heels and, to be honest, you only realize once you hit the top of the steps that you have no idea where you’re going. You pause and listen for movement. Luckily, you can hear Austin rummaging about in a room and you follow the noise. You knock on the doorframe and step into the room. At one point, it had clearly been a woman's room based on the decoration; it probably belonged to Austin's sister long ago. Austin is bent over the bed, smoothing out a blanket.
"Hi," you say quietly and Austin just nods.
"The bathroom is right there. The sheets and towels are brand new and clean. I'm just next door if you need anything."
You nod. A few moments of awkward silence pass until Austin clears his throat and starts toward the door. You move out of the way, passing him as you step further into the room. After you lay your purse down on the bed, you turn.
"Austin, can you, uh…unzip me, please?” you ask sheepishly, your shoulders turning in on yourself.
After a moment of quiet contemplation, Austin approaches you. Your back unintentionally arches when his freezing fingers brush against your skin. You gasp and close your eyes. As his fingertips dance across the zipper, one of the straps slips from your shoulder. You glance over at it, suddenly terrified when Austin stops unzipping the dress. You both wait in silence. You can feel his eyes trained on your shoulder and, with how fast your heart is thudding against your chest, you’re sure he can sense the veins in your neck as they pulse rhythmically.
You just barely turn your head to look over your shoulder at Austin. He’s staring down at you, his eyes red again, but a brighter, less threatening red this time. His lips are parted and his chest is heaving. Your eyes slip down to his lips and the next thing you know, he’s leaning toward you, his hot breath tickling your face. Your eyes flutter closed as you wait for the feeling of his lips on yours.
“Fuck!”
You fall forward onto the bed and quickly glance over your shoulder to see Austin gripping the door frame. His long nails are tearing parts of the white wooden trim away from the wall. You turn around, holding the top of your dress securely onto your chest as you stare at him.
“Why are you doing this to me, Y/N? Why? I can’t fucking control it around you. I can’t see you anymore. You can never come back after tonight. Do you understand?”
You shake your head, the frustration coming back.
“No, I don’t fucking understand. You’re the one who sends me these dresses, these jewels, all this shit. It’s not my fault you can’t control yourself, but did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t care? That I don’t want you to control yourself? That I’m offering for you to feed not because I’m turned on by the thought of it but because I love you and I don’t want you to fucking die?”
It all comes spilling out before you can stop it. But once it's out there, you don't know what to do other than own up to it. You clamp your mouth shut and fall down on the bed, dropping your head and closing your eyes as a few rogue tears slip out. Suddenly, you feel Austin's fingers underneath your chin. He lifts your face up to his. His hands slide onto your cheeks and he leans his forehead against you.
"Don't love me," he whispers. "You shouldn't love me. I'm a freak, a monster. I'm disgusting and hideous in every way. I survive on the death of others and I enjoy it. Look at me, Y/N, I'm not worthy of you. Look at these nails. They're like animal claws and they're dangerous. The thought of them ripping or tearing your beautiful skin...I hate myself for even being capable of it."
"Austin, Austin, Austin," you whisper, placing your hands on his face. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, an expression of pain crossing his face. "I trust you with my whole heart. You could never hurt me, I know it. You're not a monster. You didn't choose this life; someone else chose it for you and you're living it the most honorable way you can. That's why I love you, with all of my being. That's why I want you to feed on me, because I can't lose you, Austin. I just can't."
"What if I can't stop myself?"
You drop your hand onto his chest and tap his heart.
"If you truly love me, you will."
With that, you lean your head to the side, brushing your hair away and closing your eyes to prepare for him. His cold fingers tickle your skin as they touch your shoulder. His hand drops down to your arm and he grasps your bicep, pulling your body closer to his. He does it slowly so that you have time to place your hands on his thighs and support yourself.
Your heart is pounding in your chest with the anticipation of feeling his teeth sink into your skin. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you can feel Austin’s breath on your shoulder. His soft lips press onto the skin. You smile to yourself as his lips drag up your body, rhythmically pressing chaste kisses up your throat and onto your face. Your lips pop open as his mouth slips onto yours. He kisses you hungrily. His lips smooth as they move between yours.
You grip his thighs, a feeling of sudden desperation growing in your heart and in your gut. You lean further into his kiss, moaning quietly against his lips. His hand circles around to your back and he gently drags his long fingernails up your spine. They just barely tickle the skin and your back arches in response. You gasp into his lips as goosebumps rise on your arms.
He pulls away from you but you jerk forward into the space between you, desiring his lips more than you’ve ever wanted something in your life before.
“You like that, don’t you love?” he whispers.
You bite your lip and hum in agreement. He smirks and then presses his lips against yours again, one of his hands grasping onto your head to hold you against him. You smile into the kiss and arch your back as his fingernails dig into the skin. The sharp tips ache but only for a moment before he pulls his hand away from you and clutches onto your jawbone.
He stares down at you and your breath catches in your throat. You resist the urge to moan into the air between you and clutch harder onto his thighs instead. He tilts your head to the side and runs a fingernail down your throat. Your eyes flutter closed and you wait for him.
He presses a wet kiss to your neck. You gasp as the tips of his fangs scratch against your skin. And then they sink in. You immediately sway back with the force, moaning loudly at the mixture of pleasure and pain. You pant as the area on your neck grows warm and starts to ache. You can feel his teeth moving around in your skin, and, like massaging a tender muscle, you feel the satisfying sensation of relief. You moan again as you feel your head starting to ache. Your vision is beginning to blacken when Austin pulls away. You gasp, your eyes flying open.
Your head is still tilted back as you stare down at him. His eyes are deep, dark red like the burgundy color of your dress. In the dim lighting, they almost look black. Your blood drips down the corner of his mouth in a long dark line and is smudged red along his lips. His tongue darts out and swipes around his mouth to gather the extra blood before he circles it around his fangs to clean them. You sigh deeply and gulp.
“Why did you stop?” you ask.
“Your heartbeat, love. I can hear it pulsing in your chest,” he responds, his icy fingers pressing against the warm skin on your chest. "It was too much."
“Maybe I just liked it,” you say, your eyes dropping down to his lips.
He smirks, his hands falling to your hips and yanking you onto his lap. You straddle him and slide your hands onto his shoulders, one of them tangling into his long blonde hair. You lean in for a desperately needed kiss but he restrains you and wiggles his fingers. You watch as he takes his long sharp nails to the front of your dress. He gazes lustily into your eyes as he drags his fingernail down the fabric. It begins to rip and you press against his chest.
“Austin, stop, this is brand new!” you say. He smirks and leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
“I’ll buy you another,” he mutters against you.
And with that, his fingernail rips easily and hastily through the entire front of your dress. It falls gracefully from your chest, revealing your bare skin to him. His eyes trail down your figure and he heaves a deep breath. You giggle happily and lean forward, about to press your lips onto his but he stops you with a gentle hand to your heart. He curls his finger and trails it up toward your cheek and onto your cheekbone. He smiles sadly and shakes his head.
“I don’t want to fuck you tonight,” he says. “I just want to hold you.”
You smile and press a gentle kiss on his forehead. You nod and he helps you down. After stepping away to allow Austin to get up, you slide the rest of the dress off, along with your shoes. By the time you turn back around, Austin has returned with a pair of silk pajamas.
“I was saving this for another time but you pretty obviously need it now,” Austin says with a chuckle. You share the expression and then shrug the pajamas over your head.
You climb into bed as Austin turns the lights off and slides in behind you. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you close. You nestle back into him. Although he’s frigid, he feels good against your hot skin. The rain is falling hard, pattering against the window as soft rumbles of thunder sound in the distance.
“Can I show you something?” he asks.
You shift in his arms to see his face and nod excitedly.
“Of course.”
He reaches underneath his shirt and pulls out a silver necklace. Somehow you’ve never noticed it before. He stretches it out to show it to you. The moonlight that shines through the window allows you to get a good look at it. It’s a small oval-shaped silver charm with the family’s rose crest engraved in the metal.
“This is what you saw in the portrait.”
“Ashleigh’s necklace?” you ask and he nods.
“The very same. When she owned it, it contained a picture of the duke, her beloved. But when the duke gave it to me, I didn’t know what to do with it. It remained empty for a long, long time. But now,” he carefully clicks it open and tilts it to show you. You giggle contently. “It contains a picture of my beloved.”
You reach toward the necklace and swipe a thumb over your face nestled in the little silver oval. When you glance over at him, he’s already staring at you with a handsome smile. You reach up to cup his face and he leans into your touch. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and you nestle into his chest before mumbling goodnight.
“Sleep well, my heart.”
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#austin butler#milasthings#milasaustincontent#milasfics#milasaustinfics#spoopy szn 2022#SupernaturalSeries#vampire aus#vampire!austin
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ADDICTED
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler (Incubus!Austin)
Requested: sorta kinda maybe
Prompt: It's all so wrong, so bad, so sinful. Even so, you want him. You crave him. You need him. You are utterly and completely ADDICTED to him, perhaps even at the cost of your soul. [ Fem!Reader ]
TW: Pretty rough sex 💀 a variety of BDSM stuff (choking, biting, spanking, etc.), pain and discomfort for the reader, mentions of death/demon stuff/other demonic symbols and themes, overstimulation, blood, degradation.
Just be careful reading this if, like me, you were instilled with an unhealthy dose of Catholic fear starting from a young age lmfao
Rating: M || Word Count: 7017
A/N: okay so this is a bit fat sin 😅 Just a quick FYI to always have a safe word with your sexual partners and keep checking in for consent, especially if you're gonna fuck like this 💀 also probably DONT engage an incubus IRL just...this is for fun pls don't go off and like summon a demon hoping it's gonna be austin cause...lmao
Part one of the Supernatural Series. See all three parts by checking out my #SupernaturalSeries tag.
🦋 mila
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You stir, a pleasurable sensation swirling around in your stomach. You moan and bite your lip, curling the bedsheets into your fingers. Your heat throbs with pleasure and desire as you feel something, although you can’t see what, circling rhythmically around your core. The waves of pleasure are growing and growing, sending you toward the top of a pleasure-filled mountain. You jerk awake with a yawn.
Your eyes start to flutter open and you tilt your head as you see a dark black figure in front of you. You blink, trying to adjust to the darkness of your bedroom. Sucking in a breath, you yelp and scramble up onto your bum. You scoot away from the dark figure as quickly as you can. Your chest heaves as it stares back at you with black eyes.
Your fingers drop down to its long black claw where you can just barely see what looks like your favorite pair of panties hanging off the nail. The pair of panties you put on before climbing into bed tonight.
As you open your mouth to scream, the figure is suddenly straddling your lap, its hand clamped tightly around your mouth. What little voice you have left vanishes and you fall completely silent. When you try to speak, nothing comes out. You’re frozen under its touch and you don’t know what’s going on or what it even is. You can feel your body trembling under its touch, shaking with the intense fear pumping through your veins.
You close your eyes for a moment, praying that when you reopen them, you’ll be somewhere safer, away from whatever vile creature this thing is. No such luck. It’s still there, staring at you and holding you hostage. You try to move but find your body frozen under its touch.
“Shhhh,” it says in a deep, raspy voice. “Don’t be afraid, darling. I’ll take good care of you. Just relax.”
It raises a finger to its lips and hushes a quiet “shh” before releasing its grasp on your mouth and returning to its position down between your legs. You take a moment to observe its figure.
It’s a large, menacing form, tall and extremely well-built with rippling muscles. It looks like some sort of humanoid bird being. Its black hair glistens in the moonlight, mostly pushed back off its forehead with a small portion flopping down into his face. Now that you have a closer look at the eyes, you can see that they aren’t just black. They have deep, dark red pupils that glimmer eerily in the darkness of night. You can still sense your body gently shaking with fear.
It feels like the eyes are pouring into your soul, glaring into your very essence with terrifying power. Your gaze travels up its head and locks onto two curled horns protruding from its skull at the top of its head. As it straightens, you can also see that it has two small, feathery black wings outstretched from its back. They rest, half-opened, against its skin which is covered in black tattoos or markings of some sort. You don’t recognize any of the symbols, but they look sinister, evil. Based on what you’ve seen, you assume it’s a male of…whatever it is, although you can’t be sure.
“W-what are you?” you ask in between shaky breaths. “What do you want with me?”
You suck in a breath as the being smiles, his sharp pointed teeth shining a blinding white in the darkness. A red forked tongue darts out and circles around one of the two large fangs. He smirks and chuckles, a deep, sinister sound that makes your stomach flip.
“I am what you crave,” he replies with a tilt of his head.
“What the fuck does that mean? Answer me straight,” you say firmly although your heart is beating a thousand miles a minute.
“I think you can guess it. Let’s play a game, shall we?”
You shake your head, the fear rising in your chest. Whenever creepy characters in horror movies suggest a game, they’re really asking if you’re prepared to die.
“No, I don’t want to play. Please just leave me alone.”
“Tut-tut,” he clicks its tongue and holds up a long black finger. “It’s an easy game. You just have to guess what I am. I’ll give you a hint. I prefer my victims asleep.”
You shake your head, closing your eyes and again begging to be transported from this place.
From what little you know from Halloween movies and such, you’re pretty sure that this…thing is a demon of some sort. But why is he haunting you and why hasn’t he just possessed you already? You don’t remember the little girl from The Exorcist having a conversation with the demon before it flew into her body. And why was he holding your panties????
You clutch your legs together upon remembering that your pussy is totally and completely out there for this demon creature to see. You gulp and reopen your eyes to look at him. He’s staring back at you, his black and red eyes shining terrifyingly through the darkness.
“How about another hint, hm?” he says. “You won’t be able to resist my touch after you’ve had it.”
You suck in a sharp breath as his fingers crawl up your thigh. You can't understand how, though, since he remains too far away to physically touch you and he hasn't moved even enough to lift his arm.
Despite your best efforts to resist, your heat spikes with a throbbing sensation and you clamp your legs tighter as if that will somehow stop the invisible hands that are crawling up your skin.
“Come, darling. Guess. I insist.”
You gulp and think through his clues again. Demon, asleep, resisting his touch? You wrack your brain trying to understand and just when you’re opening your mouth to guess, it hits you. Your eyes widen and you shakily reply, hoping desperately that you’re wrong.
“A demon.”
“Oh come now. We can do better than that. What sort of demon am I? Say it. You're a smart girl. I know you’ve guessed.”
You gulp and shake your head, avoiding his eyes. You open your mouth to respond but find your gaze drawn back to him. You try to rip it away, but you physically can’t resist peering back into his eyes. They’re horrifyingly evil but somehow captivating and enchanting in ways you can’t describe or understand.
“An incubus.”
“Ah, good girl,” he replies, flashing his teeth again. “Since you know what I am, then you understand what I want with you. And now you will get your reward.”
You feel the sensation of his fingers again and your heart slams faster against your chest. You scoot your body back again, as far as you can against the frame of the bed, and shake your head vehemently. His figure starts to move forward, wings flapping as his palms curl down into the soft bed and he crawls up toward you. You thrust a hand out, your open palm pointed toward him.
“No, stop! Stop!” you shout, waving your hand.
To your surprise, he pauses, lifting his gaze to yours.
“W-what should I call you?” you ask.
He tilts his head, his black eyebrows quirking. His eyes slowly drag up and down your figure and he nods.
“I don't see the need for such a thing, particularly since my true infernal name cannot be uttered on human lips. But you may call me whatever you’d like.”
You nod with furrowed eyebrows. You sigh as your brain turns around a number of names that you could call him. One suddenly jumps out at you.
“Austin. It was my first crush’s name,” you say, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth at the memory of little blonde-haired Austin from kindergarten.
“Austin it is, then. This will be much better for you if you relax.”
His fingers, surprisingly gently, pry your legs open and he crawls between them. You allow him to move your body even though your heart is aching tremendously with fear. He tilts his head as he stares into your eyes, one of his long fingers tracing the skin of your inner thigh. Your leg twitches and his hand curves around your thigh, harshly holding it in place. You wince at the slight pain of the tips of his claws digging into your skin.
“Don’t move,” he growls, shaking his head.
You curl the bedsheets into your fingers as he uses your leg to drag you down onto your back. He moves to straddle your body and grabs ahold of both of your wrists. He lifts them over your head and pins them down firmly with one of his large hands. You wriggle momentarily under his touch, terrified by the thought of being trapped by him. Even though he moves his hand away, you find that you’re unable to shift your arms. Your heart begins to beat faster and your breath catches in your throat as you struggle against whatever magical restraints he’s put you in. You grimace at the sudden pain, like rope burn, on your wrists. But there is no rope. How is this happening?
Austin straightens himself and smirks down at you, flicking his pointer finger up. Your eyes widen as you watch the sharpened black claw grow larger and longer. He lifts his chin as he lowers his finger down to your throat. Your breath catches in your throat again and you squeeze your eyes shut, anticipating intense pain when his claw pierces through your skin. He gently scratches it down your throat and onto your collarbone. You release a relieved breath as he hooks it onto the top of the t-shirt you’re sleeping in. You open your eyes to see him staring at you. He slowly starts to draw his finger down your shirt, his claw acting like a sharpened razor blade as it tears easily through the cotton fabric.
You gasp, wriggling against the invisible restraints with an overwhelming urge to cover yourself. But you can’t move. All you can do is watch as he rips a line straight down your shirt, which falls to the sides of your body. You clamp your legs together in embarrassment but he pushes them open again, the claws digging into your thighs.
“Stop squirming. Let me look at you,” he growls, holding your legs open.
You whimper but keep your eyes trained on him as he observes your naked body. Taking his claw again, he starts by the edge of your mouth and draws his finger down the side of your face, onto your neck and throat, down your chest, and circles it around one of your nipples. You suck in a breath. You can feel it hardening to attention with the combination of his haunting touch and the cold air. You gulp as your gut begins to turn with the movement of his finger ghosting across your stomach. He trails his touch down your leg again, drawing tiny circles on your inner thigh. You wriggle under him, your pussy beginning to throb and swell with desire. You bite your lip and release a strained breath as he pushes your thighs up to position himself near your heat.
You watch with horror as he draws one of his fingers across your folds. You bite down hard on your lip to refrain from making any noises of pleasure, although his touch feels divine. He runs his finger over the folds again and bites down harder, averting his eyes. Without even touching you, he pulls your gaze back to his. Your chin rotates back to his face against your will.
“Look at me while I touch you.”
Too terrified to disobey, you follow his command. Your hips jerk back as he presses one of his claws between your folds. You squeeze your eyes shut momentarily with the sudden pain of his pointed claw invading your body. It burns and stings, but after a few moments, the pain subsides and you can feel your gut spinning in circles as it begs for more friction. He removes his finger and reinserts it, pumping in and out of you agonizingly slowly. You bite down hard on your lip and taste the metallic tang of blood in your mouth.
Austin chuckles deeply, evilly, before lowering his head down to your heat. You yelp as you watch a long red forked tongue dart out from behind his teeth and swipe a wet strip up your folds. He chuckles again, wrapping his claws around your thighs and hoisting you up toward his mouth. His tongue darts out again, swiping up and down your pussy and adding more juices to your wetness. You grip with white knuckles onto the bedsheets, resisting every urge you have to moan in pleasure. But you can’t hold out for long when he reinserts three fingers into your pussy as his tongue circles expertly around your clit.
You accidentally release a moan and Austin snarls against you. He curls his fingers up inside of you and you yelp in pain. The way the forked tongue manages to stimulate both sides of your clit simultaneously makes the pleasure that much better and, combined with the pain of his claws scratching the walls of your pussy, instinctual moans and groans begin to slip from your lips, one after the other. He pumps his fingers into you mercilessly, his knuckles slamming against the inside of your thighs with every thrust. He glares up at you with gleaming red eyes.
When he sucks on your clit, you somehow manage to yank your wrists away from the invisible restraints. Without even really meaning to, your fingers find their way to his horns, curling around them. He growls into you and you flex your toes into the bedsheets. Your fingers absentmindedly trail up and down his horns, similar to how you would touch his dick, as you pull his tongue against your pussy to wherever you need to feel him.
“Don’t touch,” he hisses but his actions just make you grip harder onto his horns. “Naughty girl.”
You know it should be alarming and scary, but you somehow find him irresistibly sexy. It starts to hit you how illegal, how sinful it all is. And that only makes you feel dirtier, like you want to be punished by him, disrespected by him. As if he could read your mind, your vision suddenly grows black. You gasp, scratching at his horns but he just growls onto you. You suddenly begin to feel the walls of your pussy clenching on his fingers, but he doesn’t let up at all. Somehow, he manages to pump you faster as his tongue darts madly around your clit. With nothing else to focus on anymore, every feeling he elicits feels ten times as stimulating.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat in a strained voice as you orgasm under his touch.
You grip harshly onto his horns but you no longer have the power to move him. Your arms are frozen, outstretched onto him as he licks you clean. All you can do is buck your hips up again and again with each wave of pleasure. He pulls away with a growl, your vision still black. You blink into darkness and one of his hands intertwines with yours. You feel his fingers on your lips.
“Clean it,” he commands and you obey, swirling your tongue around his fingers and tasting your salty, metallic juices on his skin. “Good girl. Now you can have your sight back.”
You blink as the blackness starts to recede from your eyes. After a sigh of relief, your breath catches in your throat. Without even moving, Austin’s pants are stripped away and you can see his figure fully. Your mouth pops open with shock as you take in his dick. It’s extremely long and very girthy; the most impressive dick you’ve ever seen. The tip is especially pointed, not sharp but close to it. And you can see a texture to him that human men don’t have, almost as if his dick itself is ribbed. You gulp.
“Turn around, on your hands and knees.”
You shakily obey him, flipping around onto your hands and knees. He gives you no time to adjust, harshly pulling you backward on the bed. You yelp with surprise and wince as his claws dig into your skin. He forcefully pushes the top half of your body down onto the bed and pulls your wrists behind your back, securing them there with the same invisible restraints that he’d used earlier. You turn your head on the bed so you can breathe. You can just barely see his face as he smirks down at you, his white fangs gleaming in the darkness of the room.
He spreads your legs, sliding his open palm down your back and across your ass. He circles it around to your pussy and gives it a light slap. You jolt forward, gasping in surprise. He snickers and clutches his fingers into your ass cheeks, his claws digging into the skin.
You feel your back arching as you anticipate the pleasurable feeling of his dick inside you. His hand slips from your skin and brutally slaps against your ass. You yelp and your eyes fly open. As you try your best to glance over your shoulder at him, he spanks you again, even harder this time. You bite your lip, knowing that you’ll have a big red mark on your ass tomorrow.
“You like being punished, don’t you, dirty slut?”
You moan at his words, arching your back more. He spanks your pussy again and you quiver under his touch. He hums in approval and brings his leaking tip up to your folds. You grind back against him as he brushes your pussy again with his dick.
“You want me to fuck you hard, huh, fucking whore?”
You gasp. No one’s ever spoken to you like that, but, then again, you’ve never had sex with a demon before. Although the words surprise you, they also make your stomach churn with delight. You moan in response.
“Yeah…”
“Yeah, what?”
“Yeah, I want you to fuck me.”
You yelp again as he spanks you for the third time. Your body quivers with the pain and you bite your lip hard and wait for him to enter you.
“Try again, bitch. What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me, master,” you say, cringing at your own words.
Even though you might have felt awkward uttering them, he definitely approves, because the next thing you know, his dick is slamming into your tight folds. You cry out with the sudden sensation. Your fingers curl behind your back as he burns your insides. His dick stings against your walls and you find yourself desperately searching for breath, your chest growing tight.
You pull against the restraints and your hands break free. They fall onto the bed and you lift yourself up, trying to breathe through the pain. Austin’s hand circles around your neck and he holds your head gently upright. His other hand snakes around your waist, holding you steady. One of your hands moves back to rest on his forearm. Your fingers flutter at the feeling of feathers on his arm. You hadn’t noticed them before, but they’re extremely soft and well-kept. He flinches momentarily under your touch and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong or too…intimate.
“You’re fine. Just breathe," he mutters into your ear.
You close your eyes and, with his help, take a few deep breaths as the pain subsides. You release his arm and your hand falls back to the bed. Interestingly, you don’t notice any difference in your sex drive. You still desperately and madly want to get fucked by Austin. As such, it’s not hard for you to settle into a rhythm as he begins to slide in and out of you. You’d been right, his dick is ribbed and as your pussy walls clench around his thrusts, you revel in the feeling of his textured member.
Once he starts to find his tempo, your body responds. You jerk your hips back against him, moving in circles around his thrusts. His hand returns to your neck and his fingers curl around your throat, digging into the sensitive skin. You choke for a second before you adjust to him. When he squeezes your throat, you moan loudly and thrust your hips back against him. You feel his hot breath on your neck and whimper, biting your lip.
He drags his wet lips against your skin and then swipes his tongue over your shoulder. You moan in response, his fingers still wrapped around your throat. He squeezes at the same time that he thrusts into you and bites down hard on your shoulder. You cry out, your body teetering forward with the overstimulation. His teeth are sharp. You feel an aching soreness as he bites down at your skin, humming deeply against it.
His hips slam against your backside as he thrusts in and out of you, the air filled with the sounds of your bodies meshing together. Your moans start to come faster now as you feel yourself approaching your orgasm. With his fingers around your throat, it’s harder and harder to breathe but it just makes the sensations even more evocative. Austin growls deeply in your ear as his movements start to become sloppier. You can feel the strength of your arms giving out as your elbows buckle under your weight.
Austin’s hand releases from your throat and he forcefully shoves his fingers into your mouth. You moan against them, sucking and biting on the tips with what little strength you have left. He rams into you from behind, his hand clutching the skin of your waist hard. His fingers start to pierce your skin and you wince against his hands, opening your mouth.
His fingers fall from your tongue and immediately cup around your breast as he hisses into your ear. Your body starts to shake with too much stimulation. You shudder under him and he growls deeply into your ear. Your whole body is jarred with the force of his thrusts into you. His movements slow to a stop and he pauses, breathing heavily over your shoulder.
Your body quivers as you slowly come down from your high. You can feel your legs shaking violently with the intense pleasure and pain you’ve just experienced. You wheeze breaths, the stimulation so overwhelming that you’re fighting back tears. You feel his hand as it pushes on your back and he exits you. You wince as you draw your legs up underneath your body and gingerly roll onto your back. You whimper with the soreness in your pussy and take a few minutes to slow your breathing before sitting up. You glance over at him and see his back turned to you as he reassembles himself. He says nothing and you bring your knees into your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly dirty and disgusting for what you’ve done.
You suck in a deep inhale as your fingers fly onto the skin of your shoulder. You squeeze your arm tightly as a stinging pain ricochets through the muscle. It feels like the same sensation when you’ve accidentally touched yourself with a hair straightener or curling iron. After a few moments, the pain finally subsides and you release a sigh of relief. With your fingertip, you trace the area and feel a section of raised skin in a pattern you can’t identify.
Moving quickly, you stumble off the bed and run toward the mirror above your dresser. You fumble for the light switch and flick it on frantically. You thrust your shoulder forward and gasp when you see what’s happened to it. There’s a small red scar on the skin in the shape of a pentagram. You grimace as your finger brushes against it. It stings to the touch as if it’s been burned into your skin.
“It’s the mark of Satan,” Austin says dryly and you turn to see him sitting on the edge of your bed with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What? What the fuck are you talking about? I’m marked by Satan?” you hiss, stepping toward him.
“It will fade with time. It’s just there as punishment because you willingly engaged in one of the seven deadly sins. Lust.”
You curl your fingers into fists at the calm way he relays the information as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary about this situation. As if it’s completely normal and not at all concerning that you’re literally marked by the devil for your actions. As if it’s not damning to your soul and sending you into a moral frenzy and panic.
“But, I…I can’t be…I can’t…”
“Don’t worry, human,” he says, standing.
Your eyes float up to meet him and your mouth pops open with surprise at how tall he is. He must be at least six feet if not more. You gulp under his demanding gaze and, as you stare up into his eyes, you realize that they’re actually more dark blue than black.
“It won’t tarnish your soul just yet. You have to make a habit of it for that to happen. And that’s not a choice you get to make. I’ll be the one to decide what happens to your soul after tonight.”
You sigh frustratedly and cross your arms over your chest. You have a million more questions that need to be answered and you’re starting to wonder if you’ve been taken advantage of. Although part of you feels like you should regret what you’ve done, you can’t bring yourself to feel any guilt about it at all. And when you think through the situation, you know that you would have done the same thing had you gotten the chance to redo it all.
You close your eyes, running your fingers over your face and formulating an answer to his comment. But when you open your eyes again, ready to respond, he’s gone, completely vanished. You rush toward the window, peering outside and glancing both ways down one side of the street and then the other. Nothing. You throw open the doors to your closet, desperately searching for him, but find nothing. Plopping on your bed, you curl into the sheets and angrily pull them close to your chin. Clutching them in your fingers, you squeeze your eyes shut and beg for sleep.
Although you probably should have heeded Austin’s warning that night, over the next few days you find yourself yearning for more, for his touch. You find yourself missing his presence and hoping, almost wishing that he would return. At night, you can barely fall asleep. When you close your eyes, you think about him. When you touch yourself in the dark, it can't compare to the pleasure you’d experienced when Austin visited you that fateful night. Doing your daily tasks is agonizing and monotonous and you're growing more frustrated with your human existence.
It's like, after Austin’s visit, everything in you craves him and only him. You can't experience anything quite the same. It's all a disappointment to you, everything comes up short.
You’d figured that Austin wouldn’t be visiting you again. All the research you’ve done on incubi, however conflicting or nonconclusive, pointed to the fact that most incubi only visit a human victim once in their lifetime before moving on to a fresh one. That experience would have to be filed away and you have to find a way to move on from it or you're going to combust. You’re beginning to wonder if he’s even real…
Until it happens again. He comes again, scaring you half to fucking death as he drops in through the window. At first, you think it’s a dream, that there’s no possible way he could be back in your bedroom again. But when he touches you and reminds you why you’ve missed him so much, you realize that those sensations are very, very real. And they continue to somehow be real each time he visits you from then on.
Although his visits are sporadic and inconsistent, he manages to fit you into his busy demon schedule every few weeks. At the most, he makes you wait three weeks before he returns to you again. You never know when to expect him so whenever he chooses to arrive, he usually gives you a pretty good scare.
Like this afternoon, for instance. You jerk awake at the sound of knocking on your window and laugh when you see Austin waiting on the other side. You hop down from your bed and let him in. He’s never visited you during the day before, but you’re certainly not complaining. You let him into your bedroom and he smiles sweetly down at you.
Somehow, he’s even more beautiful in the warm sunlight. His black feathers are glinting almost blue in the light and you can also now be sure that his eyes are blue and not black. You walk back toward the bed and climb under the covers, beckoning him to join you.
He follows your lead and pulls you into his grasp. You nestle into his warm chest with your eyes closed and your fingers intertwined. One of his warm hands is gently caressing your head and stroking your hair rhythmically. You hum contentedly as the sun shines through the window and onto your bodies. You open your eyes and stare up at him to see him glancing softly down at you with the hint of a smile on his face.
Your eyes fly open when you hear your window pane slamming against the wall. A cold breeze follows and you sit quickly up in bed, clutching the comforter to your chest. You release a sigh of relief when you see Austin climbing, more like floating, through the window. Brushing your disheveled hair back, you realize that your experience with Austin in the sunlight was all a dream. It had felt so unbelievably real...but it was all just a dream. You shake yourself back into reality as you wait for Austin to assume his normal place at the foot of your bed.
“Jesus, Austin, you scared me.”
To your surprise, he climbs right into the bed next to you and lays down on his back, bending his elbow behind his head. You don’t know exactly what’s going on since Austin has never done this before. You freeze and watch as Austin’s wings dissolve back into his skin, something that you’ve seen him do when he's preparing to lie down.
“You’re too much of a scaredy cat, Flower,” he says and you smile at his use of a nickname.
You can’t stop yourself from giggling even though you raise your fingers to your mouth to stop the noise from escaping. Unfortunately, Austin notices and his head turns in your direction. He sits up, propping one of his elbows onto his knee.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. How come you called me flower?”
You watch in silence as Austin’s head tilts and his eyes drop from yours, circling around your bedroom. He’s trying to formulate his answer. You hadn’t meant to laugh. It’s just such a sweet and innocent word to come out of the mouth of a demon that it’d caught you off-guard. You weren’t expecting it at all.
“I don’t know very much about humans, but I heard once that they consider flowers to be beautiful, and so I decided to call you flower since I cannot speak your real name. Do humans not consider flowers beautiful, anymore? We don’t really have the concept of beauty in hell. It’s difficult for me to tell.”
“No, they still do. We consider flowers to be very beautiful. I love it,” you say with a smile.
You reach out to place your hand on top of his. You can feel his fingers twitch underneath your touch but he doesn’t pull away. As your mind catches up with what he’s said, you realize that he’s never actually called you…anything. He's really never had any need to address you by name but you didn’t know it was because he can’t.
“I didn’t know you couldn’t use my name,” you say. “Why is that?”
Austin glances back up at you, his eyes flicking from your left to your right eye. You watch his decorated chest as it rises and falls silently with deep sighs.
“We…incubi are not permitted to establish relations with their victims,” Austin says, dropping your gaze. “We are expected to feed on a victim and then progress to another the next night and another the next. We may return to victims that fed us well, but not more than three times. As such, there is no need for us to learn their names. Most incubi don’t even spend enough time with their victims to think about their names. For me to address you by your name would be too…too…”
“Intimate,” you suggest as you try to ignore the pang of grief in your heart.
He says nothing in response but returns to your gaze once again. You gulp under his eyes as he holds you captive. Your heart slams against your chest but not with the usual desire. You want to kiss him; not because you want to feel him inside of you, but because you want him to hold you. You want him to love you, somehow, even though you know a creature like him is incapable of the very thing. Austin lies back down and heaves another sigh.
“Lie with me,” he commands and you straighten your legs to lie down on your back.
Silence falls between you as you both relax in silence, faces pointed up toward the ceiling. You gulp and glance over at Austin through your peripherals. He’s lying perfectly still, his chest rising and falling consistently. You clear your throat.
“Do you need to eat?” you ask expectantly.
“I already fed,” Austin responds and your heart thumps louder in your chest.
The sole purpose of him visiting you is so that he can feed on your sex. The only way he can survive from one day to the next is by having sex with sleeping women. Although his more recent visits have involved more conversation than the first ones, his main objective is always to feed from you first. And he always does, every time, even though now he tends to stay with you until you fall asleep afterward. But if he’s already fed tonight…why would he visit you? He has no reason to be here.
“Do you know what I remember most about the first night I visited you?” he suddenly asks and you shake your head into the darkness. “I saw you at the library while I was scouring for potential victims. You were all alone, reading quietly by yourself, and I thought you would be the perfect partner. I knew I could persuade you easily but you did something that surprised me that night. You asked what you should call me.”
You chuckle quietly.
“Well, yeah of course I did. That’s a normal thing to do when you meet someone for the first time.”
“Not for something like me,” he says quietly. “No one has ever asked me that question before. None of my victims have ever asked for my name before.”
Your smile quickly fades and you turn your head to glance at him. He’s still staring straight up at the ceiling, although his chest is moving more quickly now than it was a moment ago. Your heart pangs with pity for him and you gently reach your fingers forward to grab onto his. His hand recoils from yours at first but you persist, shoving your fingers through his. He accepts it although he doesn’t make any movement to hold you back. His fingers remain awkwardly straight.
“You know I had a dream about you,” you say and his head finally turns to look at you. “Yeah, we were here in the bedroom but it was daytime. The warm sunlight was shining and you came in through the window like you always do. And you just sort of swooped me up into your arms and pulled me close. We were cuddling and just holding each other and talking in the sunlight. Your feathers were blue and so were your eyes and you were so…beautiful.”
You don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that Austin takes after you say the word. No one has probably ever called him that before. A few moments of silence pass in which you and Austin stare at each other in the darkness.
“I don't have dreams. And that doesn’t sound like me,” he says as the corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Although some demons claim to have visited their human victims in dreams.”
“Oh really? Did you pay me a visit earlier?”
A few moments of silence pass before Austin responds.
“No.”
You giggle and shake your head, pretty sure that maybe he did visit you in your dreams this evening. You roll onto your side and rest your head on Austin’s chest. You can feel his muscles stiffen as you do so and pause.
“Is this alright?” you ask.
Again, silence falls between you and you start to move away when Austin speaks.
“Yes.”
You nestle into his chest and your fingers happen to fall on one of the markings on his chest. You close your eyes and absentmindedly begin to trace around the marking. They are raised on his skin just as the pentagrams are on your skin after you feed him. You lean up and examine one of the markings.
“What does this mean?” you ask, gesturing to a snake curled around itself in a circle.
“It’s a uroboros, a snake eating itself. It symbolizes infinity and reminds us that demons have eternal life as long as we serve our master.”
You nod, gulping at the thought. It’s so easy to forget, even with his devilish appearance, that Austin is one of them, a demon, and that he serves the Satan.
“What about this one?” you ask, tracing another marking that looks like a widened star.
“A unicursal hexagram, a six-pointed star which symbolizes magic and spirituality. Although the human association with these things is generally positive, demons have been taught how to utilize them in the service of our master. We can pervert them and use their power against victims like you.”
You nod, even though his words are a little concerning. You point to another marking that looks familiar to you.
“An alligator head.”
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing. It just looks badass.”
You laugh and trace the design again with fondness. As your fingertip trails to the left, it crosses over something different than the other markings. It’s less like a tattoo and more like a burn scar, similar to the pentagrams that are left on your shoulder after Austin feeds on you. You circle it again and your smile fades.
“What’s this?” you ask, glancing up at Austin.
His lips are flat and his nostrils flared angrily. You gulp, worried that you’ve upset him. He breathes deeply twice before responding.
“A punishment.”
“Punishment? For what?”
Austin’s eyes raise to meet yours and he holds your gaze for a moment. Although you know anyone else would be terrified of his face, you find a softness in it that you adore. You feel strangely safe with him, despite the evil expression that rests on his horrific features.
“For returning to you. I was commanded to avoid you, to stay away and move on to another victim but I…”
His words move your body before your brain can catch up. You raise your hand to his cheek, turning his face toward yours. Surprisingly, he allows you to manipulate him, even though he’s normally the one in charge. Your eyes flick down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He doesn’t move when you lunge forward to press your lips to his. But within a matter of seconds, his lips are moving in time with yours and his arms are curling around your frame to pull you close. You sigh into the kiss as he tilts his head to reach you better. You pull back and open your eyes to look at him. You find him already gazing at you with lazy, half-opened eyes. You can’t imagine you’re right, but it’s possible that a small tear is gathering in the corner of Austin’s eye. You smile and scoot down to nestle into his chest again.
“Goodnight, Austin. Sleep well and maybe I’ll see you in my dreams tonight,” you say, closing your eyes.
Just before you fall asleep, you feel Austin’s arms wind around your figure and pull you close to his body. He sighs long and hard and then you feel his soft lips on the top of your head.
“Goodnight, my Flower. I’ll see you soon.”
When you wake up the next morning, you’ve rolled to the complete opposite side of the bed and the sun is shining brightly into your eyes. You blink them open slowly and yawn, sitting up in bed. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance around you. Austin is gone and, as you often do, you momentarily wonder if last night actually happened or if it was just a dream. You glance down at your shoulder but see no pentagram there. You remember that Austin didn’t feed from you the night before and sigh sadly. Your gaze happens to fall on your nightstand and a smile spreads across your face. You reach over and lift up a freshly picked bright yellow marigold. You spin it in front of you and bite your lip.
He had been there. It was all real. He was real.
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#austin butler#milasthings#milasaustincontent#milasfics#milasaustinfics#spoopy szn 2022#SupernaturalSeries#incubus austin#incubus!austin
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Hold Me Close
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler
Requested: yes - @fangirl-imagines i love u kenz 💕
Prompt: #17 Scenarios - Haunted House
TW: Mentions of blood, gore, etc. just haunted house stuff
Rating: Pg || Word Count: 1454
A/N: enjoy my loves!!!
🦋 mila
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“Ugh, do we have to Aus?” you whine, tugging on your boyfriend’s long, lanky arm. “I really don’t like these things.
“What are you worried about, babe?” Austin responds, moving to wrap his arm around your shoulder. ���You know I’ll protect you.”
He pulls you closer to him and you can’t help but smile as the scent of his cologne wafts into your nostrils. He always smells amazing, clean and musky, just the way you want him to. You fit perfectly underneath his armpit and gaze up into his gorgeous crystal blue eyes. He smiles warmly down at you.
“Yeah, I know,” you respond begrudgingly with a sigh. “Alright fine. But if you let go of my hand, I’m gonna be upset.”
“Never.”
You grip tightly onto Austin’s fingers as you walk behind him toward the big haunted house on the carnival grounds. It’s not that you’re necessarily scared of the actors dressed up in the haunted house so much as you dislike them being so close to you. You’d rather not have some random guy you don’t know get up in your grill in a bloodied pig mask. That’s not exactly your idea of a good time.
But if it gives you an excuse to cuddle up to Austin and have him protect you? You’d walk through fire for that. Austin stops abruptly before the door and glances down at you, his hands holding yours up to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your fingers.
“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Austin, with you around? I’m never better. Let’s do this thing.”
He chuckles, a beautiful smile crossing his features and creasing the edges of his eyes. His infectious expression catches onto your face and you share a grin. He turns around to enter the haunted house and you trail him again, stepping directly behind his heels as he walks. You grip onto his fingers with one hand and his arm with the other. The cotton sleeve of his jacket is soft and you chuckle as you resist making a boyfriend material joke.
You enter the first room to see half-animal, half-human hybrids. People with horse heads and pig noses and deer antlers sewed onto their heads with bloody and gory makeup. You step closer to Austin and feel his grip tighten on your fingers. He glances over his shoulder down at you and smiles. You can barely see him in the darkness of the space but just knowing that he’s got you safe and sound makes you feel infinitely better. You heave a shaky breath and clutch onto Austin’s sleeve as you move through the room.
“See that wasn’t so bad,” Austin says as you pass through a connecting space between two of the exhibits. “You did great, baby.”
You lean your head against him, closing your eyes in relief. But your tranquility is soon broken by the shrill sound of a bloodcurdling screech. Your eyes flick open, trying to adjust to the low lighting but barely able to do so. They frantically flick around as you try to take everything in. This room is full of bandaged patients, stuck halfway through botched surgeries. Your arms curl tighter around Austin as you walk along the path and try to avoid the actors. Shockingly, you manage to make it through the section without being targeted.
But your luck runs out when you enter the clown room. You reach up with your free hand to shield your ears from the gratingly loud sound of chainsaws revving. You stumble after Austin as you cower against him, hating every single second of this. You feel Austin’s arms wrap around you as he maneuvers you in front of him. He rests his arms across your chest in an X and holds you tightly against him. Your eyes are closed and your knuckles are white as you grip hard onto his wrists. You jump a little when you feel his breath on your face.
“You okay, Y/N? You’re doing great, love. We’re almost through. I got you, babe,” he says, his deep raspy voice calming as it sounds in your ear. “I got you.”
You open your eyes, feeling the creases on your forehead as you try to remain as calm as possible. You hesitantly follow the tall man in front of you, glancing from side to side in an attempt to anticipate whether you’re about to get jump scared. Unfortunately, you’re not as perceptive as you think, because a clown manages to get within two inches of you and revs his chainsaw loudly, accompanying it with a cackling laugh. You flinch back with a scream, sliding down Austin’s arms. If Austin didn’t have such a strong grasp on you, you would have been on your ass. But his fingers dig into the skin by your sides and he pulls you back up.
“I got you, I got you,” he repeats. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here for you. I got you.”
Your heart is beating a million miles a minute and you feel like crying. You exit the clown section and enter a longer connecting section. It feels eerily quiet here and you pause, stepping off to the side to compose yourself. Austin follows, turning to shield you from the line moving through the haunted house. You brush your hair from your face and try to breathe through your fear, your inhales shaky and uneven. Austin takes ahold of your face and tilts your gaze up to meet his. His thumbs gently stroke your cheekbones as he peers down at you.
“I love you, you know that?” he asks and you nod, sniffing back tears. “I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m so proud of you for doing this. You’re being so brave, love. So brave.”
You scoff and shake your head but he angles your face back up to his.
“Hey, would I lie to you? Hell no I wouldn’t. Now, listen, we’re so close to being out. One more section and I know you can handle it. Can you do it for me? Can you make it through the last section?”
You nod with a gulp and a deep breath. You want to do it. You want to make Austin proud of you. He’s right. You can handle it.
“There you go. In front or behind?”
You step in front of him, grabbing onto his arms and tying them over your chest. He chuckles and gently guides you back into line between two random groups. You take a few deep breaths and grasp onto his hands as you step into the final section. This room is modeled after an asylum, with patients chained to the walls and moaning, groaning, and screaming. You oddly feel more confident than you did before. You barely even flinch when a woman with dark long strands of spidery hair screams into your face and rakes her fingernails down her skin. Austin’s arm immediately flies up to cover your face from her. He curls you into his body, the heat from his skin creating a protective barrier around you.
By the time Austin lowers his arm, you’re already stepping back out into the light of the carnival grounds. You breathe the fresh air and sigh with relief. Austin immediately pulls you into a tight hug. You close your eyes, burying your head into his shoulder and breathing him in. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he gently sways you back and forth. You push against his shoulder to lean back and glance up at him.
“Hey, that’s my baby. I knew you could do it,” Austin says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with a smile. “You barely even needed me in that last section.”
“Oh, I needed you more than you think. You’re the only reason I finished it without crying. I don’t think I could have done it without you, Aus.”
“Well good thing you’ll never have to. Cause, like I said, I’ll always be here to protect you. Whenever you need it.”
You smile, raising yourself up on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiles into the kiss, his hand winding around the back of your head to gently hold you against him. When you separate, he rests his forehead against yours for a quick second before he pulls back to look down at you. He winks and then glances to the left.
“Now, what do you say we go get some ice cream? I think you deserve it.”
“Yes please,” you laugh, interlacing your fingers with his as you head off toward the ice cream stand.
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Eyeliner
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Requested: yes - @allhailqueenolivia
Prompt: #18 Scenarios - A doing B's makeup
TW: None!
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 1190
A/N: A is Elvis + B is the reader! i hope y'all enjoy :) also this is definitely 100% based on the clip from the montage where Elvis does Priscilla's eyeliner bye why is that so attractive???
🦋 mila
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“Ugh!!” you groan, slamming the eyeliner pencil down onto the bathroom counter.
You reach for the face towel again, wetting it and leaning toward the mirror so you can see well enough to carefully remove the hideous smudge that you just made. Your hands shake just the smallest bit as you blink away tears of frustration.
“You doin okay in here?”
You glance up the mirror to see the reflection of your husband leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. You shake your head and scoff.
“I just can’t get this stupid eyeliner to work. It keeps smudging and the lines are all uneven. And now I’m gonna have to redo basically my entire face because I’ve accidentally erased half of the white paint trying to fix it,” you complain, dropping the rag onto the counter and staring hopelessly down at the disheveled mess of makeup scattered around you.
You’re trying to get ready for a Halloween costume party. You and Elvis are going as vampires. While Elvis neglected to go for the full look with face paint and makeup and everything, you never half-ass your costumes. You bought the whole shebang: white face paint, sponges, eyeliner, and adhesive fangs. You’re all good to go…if you could just get this stupid makeup to work right.
“I’m sure it ain’t that bad. Lemme see ya.”
You see Elvis approaching out of the corner of your eye, his massive black figure a shadow in your peripherals. You heave a sigh as his hands come to rest on your shoulders. He gently squeezes the tender muscles between your neck and shoulder and rests his chin on top of your head. Your eyes flick up to the mirror and you gaze at your husband through the glass. He smiles, his eyes running up and down your figure in the mirror. You quirk an eyebrow, wondering what he sees. He gently rotates you, holding you out at arms-length so he can assess the damage. You sniff, embarrassed by your inability to get the job done. His fingers wrap gently around your jaw, turning your face from side to side. He stares down at you, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful shining blue eyes.
“Ah that can be fixed, darlin,” he says. “Come ‘ere.”
He pats the toilet seat. You sit, the itchy black material of your costume scratching your thighs. Elvis rummages around, gathering some materials before he drops to his knees between your legs. You shift so that he can fit between your thighs. He snatches up the white face paint and dabs a sponge into it, raising it up to your skin. You close your eyes as he gently pats the liquid all over your face. Then, he takes some white powder to set it. You squeeze your eyes shut as it dusts around your face.
“Open for me, doll.”
You open your eyes, eyelashes fluttering to flick away the stubborn clumps of powder. Elvis smiles and nods, looking satisfied with his work.
“How did you know to do that? Use the powder, I mean?”
While you ask your question, he reaches for the eyeliner pencil and twists it so that the tiny black tip emerges from the capsule.
“Baby, you're forgettin that I’m in showbusiness,” he says with a smirk. You giggle and lean forward so that he can see your eyes better.
His fingers firmly wrap around your jawbone and he tilts your head up. Your vision is naturally lifted to the ceiling but you sneak a glance down at him as he gently rests the side of his palm against your cheekbone. He carefully and gingerly swipes the eyeliner pencil along your waterline. You try not to blink, the soft pencil tickling your eyelashes. You can’t help a smile as it spreads across your face.
“What’re ya smilin at?” Elvis pulls back and you glance down at him, gigglings rising into your chest.
“Nothing. Just you,” you reply, biting the corner of your mouth.
“Well stop it,” he jokes, shaking his head. “You gonna mess me up.”
You look back up to the ceiling as he returns to his diligent work. Out of your peripherals, you watch him scoot closer to you and tilt his head as he concentrates on getting the lines just right. His hand comes to a gentle pause by the edge of your eye. You glance down at him, wondering what’s wrong. He’s staring up at you, his eyes trained intensely on yours. There’s a tiny crease on his forehead from his concentration. You want to reach out and smooth it over but you can't move.
“What?” you ask, suddenly worried something’s gone terribly wrong. Elvis just shakes his head and smirks.
“Nothin. Just you,” he says and you smirk as a quiet chuckle escapes your lips.
His fingers tighten on your jaw and his eyes flick down to your lips and stay there for a few seconds before he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kiss him back immediately, bending forward to rest your hands on his shoulders. The hand that was holding the eyeliner pencil lowers and then returns to cup your jawline and neck. His fingers wrap around the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You slide forward just a little on the smooth toilet seat, gripping onto the velvety fabric of his vampire cape. One of his hands falls to your thigh, squeezing your skin through the black dress. You accidentally moan quietly into the kiss and then start to laugh, your lips slipping from his.
“Hey, listen, I know you don’t wanna wear makeup, but you need at least one thing,” you say, leaning over to reach for the deep red lipstick you’d picked to match your costume.
You also grab the handheld mirror from your makeup bag and lift it up, gently swiping the lipstick around your lips. You place them both down and giggle, glancing at Elvis with a mischievous expression. He tilts his head to the side, shooting you a confused look.
You slide your fingers onto his neck and into his slicked-back black hair. You lean forward and press your lips to his again, kissing him exactly once before dragging your lips to the side of his mouth and nudging them against his skin to spread around the red material. You can feel his fingers tighten on your thigh as you drag your lips down his neck, nipping gently at the skin there. You pull back with a satisfied smirk pasted on your face. Elvis looks shocked, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
“Not exactly blood but close enough. It looks alright,” you say, placing your hands on his.
He lifts his fingers up and intertwines them with yours, squeezing your fingers. He smirks at you before running a tongue over his canines.
“On second thought, maybe I will wear them teeth,” he responds, raising your finger to his lips to give your fingertip a soft bite.
“Well, Count Presley, you have permission to turn me anytime.”
He raises his eyebrows and you giggle as you lean forward for another kiss.
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Mine
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Requested: yes - @fangirl-imagines my love
Prompt: Elvis catches you flirting with one of his band members at a Halloween party. Long story short, he's unhappy and, apparently, very possessive. [ Fem!Reader ]
#12 NSFW - "I know what you should be for Halloween. Mine."
TW: Pretty rough sex, choking, some BDSM stuff, jealous and kinda mean Elvis, I think that's it but as always lmk if y'all find anything else! This is also straight PWP lmao
Rating: M || Word Count: 3359
A/N: JELIS ELVIS LET'S GO. i'm excited about this one lolol it was fun to write a rougher version of elvie
🦋 mila
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“Scotty, please stop! I can barely breathe!” you shout through fits of laughter.
You’re hanging out at a Halloween party with your boyfriend and his bandmates and closest friends. You and Elvis are two of the only people in attendance not wearing costumes, but Elvis had shot down every costume that you suggested throughout the entire month of October. Instead, you’ve come in a warm velvet dress in your favorite fall color.
Speaking of your boyfriend, it’s been a while since you last saw Elvis and you aren’t totally sure where he is at the current moment. You’ve been swept up into a conversation with his guitar player, Scotty Moore, who is currently telling you the most hilarious story you’ve ever heard.
“No, I swear. It all really happened,” Scotty insists.
You clutch onto your stomach as the last few laughs are squeezed out of your stomach and drape your hand on top of Scotty’s in a friendly gesture. You smile as you look at him, admiring his handsome face, glimmering eyes, and sweet smile.
“Well, then what happened afterward?”
“So then the motel manager comes runnin over with a broomstick in his hand and-”
“Scuse me but I need Y/N.”
You turn at the sound of your boyfriend’s deep southern drawl and your smile fades almost immediately at the sight of his stern expression. You shoot a sympathetic look toward Scotty and then place your fingers into Elvis’ outstretched palm. His hand clamps harshly around yours and he pulls you up and out of your chair.
Before you even have the chance to protest, he’s already dragging you up the stairs toward the hallway overlooking the entryway of Graceland. Once you reach the top of the stairs, you attempt to pull your hand away from Elvis. Your fingers slip through his grasp for just a moment before his fingers curl around the bones of your wrist.
You yank against him, pulling Elvis to a stop right outside the door of your bedroom. His grip tightens on your wrist and you wince at the sudden ache.
“What the hell, Elvis?” you hiss as he turns to face you.
“What d’ya think you’re doin? Talkin to him like that?”
“What? What are you talking about?��
You attempt to pull your hand away again but to no avail. You wince again as you notice how hard he’s gripping the bones under your skin.
“Ya think I didn’t fuckin notice you flirtin with him? You laughin at all his jokes and shit,” Elvis spits.
Your body instinctively recoils as he jerks you closer to him.
“I wasn’t flirting with him, you ass. I was just having a conversation with him!” you reply, infuriated by Elvis’ accusations. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation with your friends now?”
“Not with him. I can tell you like 'im.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Elvis. For the last time, I was not flirting with Scotty. We were just having a conversation.”
This time you’re successful in ripping yourself away from Elvis’ grasp. You cross your arms over your chest and stick your chin out toward Elvis with a smug expression pasted on your face.
“Jealous, are we?” you ask with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk.
“Damn straight.”
He takes a step closer and glares down at you. His normally sparkling bright eyes have morphed into a deep shade of blue. His plump lips are pressed into a straight line with two small dimples on either side of his frown. With eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared, he looks like a wild animal on the verge of going in for a kill. His fingers lift to your face, stretching out to drag against your skin. They travel from your hairline down your cheek and trace along your jawline. When they reach your neck, Elvis gently curves his fingers around the skin underneath your chin. He squeezes your throat firmly, tilting your head up toward him. You feel your mouth pop open with the pressure on your esophagus. You’re completely helpless. All you can do is stare up at him and wait to see what he does next. You can barely gulp under the pressure of his fingers on your throat. He turns your face in his hands, lowering his lips down to your ear, and, in a tickled whisper, he speaks.
“I know what you should be for Halloween, darlin. Mine.”
He gently nips at your earlobe and your eyes automatically shut. His fingers squeeze again as he drags his hot, wet lips down the side of your face and onto the skin underneath your jaw. He pushes against you, walking you backward. You whimper as your back hits the wall and his fingers push deep into your throat. With his free hand, he traces down your hairline with his pointer finger. He applies barely enough pressure to give you goosebumps as his finger trails down your shoulder and the bare skin of your arm.
“Somebody’s a lil goosebumpy,” he says breathily into your ear. “Wonder why.”
All you can do is release a loud breath and open your eyes. His lips are parted, his tongue circling over his teeth as his eyes tear up and down your figure. His fingers reach the hem of your dress and deftly flip it up to slide underneath. His touch is freezing cold and you can already feel goosebumps raising on your legs to match the ones on your arms. He works his way underneath your thigh and grips the skin to hoist your leg onto his hip. Once secure there, you tighten your grasp on him and pull his hips flush against your own.
“Such a nice dress, baby girl,” he murmurs against your ear. He nips at it again and you gasp. “Shame I’m gonna destroy it.”
You giggle as he releases your throat and slides his fingers onto your jawline. He holds your face steady as he stares down at you and thrusts his hips into yours. You gasp again, your eyes closing against your will. You can feel his length, hard against your thigh and threatening to slip in between your legs. His hand crawls across your leg onto the bottom of your ass and he squeezes hard, his short nails digging into the skin. You feel your back arch and head jut out, begging him to kiss you.
“Uh-uh. Be good, honey,” Elvis says raspily. “Be good if you wanna get fucked good. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what,” he growls, thrusting his hips against yours and clamping his grip down harder on your ass and jaw.
“Yes, sir,” you choke out in a pathetic whimper.
“Good girl.”
His fingers dance across your ass and slide over the fabric of your panties. He traces the lace on the side of your hipbone and then slips a finger underneath the strip. Your stomach starts to turn, an uncomfortably needy sensation growing in your gut. Your heat is quickly beginning to throb and swell as he toys with the band to your panties. His other hand still holds your face captive so that you have no choice but to stare directly at him as he teases you mercilessly. He expertly shifts the panties to the side.
“What have we here?” he grumbles and slips a finger over your folds.
You shudder and lean your head back against the wall as his finger slides easily across the sensitive nerves. You’re already dripping for him.
“What a good, nice pussy. Already all wet for me.”
He runs another finger along the folds and you bite your lip. You buck your hips forward gently, craving more contact. But Elvis pulls his hand away and raises it to your lips. He pries your lips open with his fingers and slips his pointer finger into your mouth. You gladly accept it, swirling your tongue around his fingertip. You giggle on his finger as he runs his tongue over his teeth again. He yanks it from your mouth and then reaches back down to run it over your pussy. You bite your lip and wiggle onto his finger.
“Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
You whimper and wiggle anyway. Elvis’s fingers drop back down to your throat, pushing you harder against the wall. You jump and yelp in his grasp when he lightly slaps your pussy. A chill of excitement runs up your spine and you giggle.
“Bad, bad girl. First I find ya flirtin with my bandmates. Then I find ya disobeying me? Tut-tut,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head disapprovingly. “I’m gonna hafta remind ya why you wanna be a good girl. Why you should listen to daddy.”
“Please, sir. Please…”
His touch returns to your pussy and he drags another finger up the folds. You resist the urge to wiggle under his touch with everything you have. He pushes the finger back and just barely inserts it into your entrance. You moan quietly with satisfaction, your eyes closing again. He draws small circles around your entrance before pushing a finger up inside of you. You can’t resist the urge to wiggle and drop your hips down to meet his finger as he begins to slowly pump in and out of you.
“Yeah, you like that don’t ya, baby girl?”
“Yes, sir,” you moan quietly, sliding your palms onto Elvis’ chest.
He inserts another finger, pumping expertly in and out of your wet pussy. Within a matter of moments, he’s added another finger and the air between you is filled with the gurgling sounds of your wetness and the quiet exhales of your breath as you try not to moan too loudly. Some of the party guests laugh from the room just downstairs and you bite your lip to keep quiet. Now with three fingers thrust inside of you, Elvis starts to pump you faster and faster. Your hips can’t resist slamming down onto his fingers as they move up to meet you. You glance over at him to see his mouth open as he mimics your expressions, his dark eyes trained on yours as he watches the pleasure he’s making you feel flash across your face.
You both suddenly freeze as you hear voices entering the entryway just underneath you. Your fingers curl around Elvis’ suit jacket and he leans forward, his body pressing against you.
“I gotta go. Wife’s expecting me home in time to take the kids out for candy. You seen Elvis or Y/N around? I wanted to thank them for the party and let them know I’m on my way.”
“I’m not sure where they are, but I’ll let them know you took off a little early!”
You clutch onto Elvis’ suit jacket, burying your face in his hot, sticky neck. His fingers are still inside of your pussy and you can feel your walls clenched around him with the sudden shock. You bite onto his shoulder as you, yet again, resist the urge to wiggle down onto his glorious fingers. You can feel his hot breath on your ear as his chest rises and falls under your grasp. You both wait in silence with bated breath until you hear the front door slam shut. Even then, you both pause, frozen until you’ve been in silence for several minutes.
Eventually, Elvis pulls away with a smirk pasted between his red cheeks. He wastes no time, resuming pumping in and out of you at the same speed he was using before you were so rudely interrupted. Your hips quickly fall into time with him, jerking down toward his fingers as they slam in and out of your dripping pussy. You lean your head forward and bite onto his shoulder again, trying to remain as quiet as possible. You feel his fingers dancing across the strap of your dress as he yanks it down onto your arm. He pulls the top of your dress down to expose your breast. With his free hand, he gently massages the skin with his fingers. You can’t resist a moan when he takes your nipple into his teeth, pulling on the skin. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nub and then tugs on it again. You grip hard onto his jacket as you can feel yourself approaching an orgasm. The waves of pleasure build higher and higher as your back arches into the wall behind you.
“Who owns you? Say it.”
Your mouth moves to form the words, but he curls his finger inside your walls, and you yelp.
“Say it.”
“E-e…” your attempt is interrupted by a string of moans as your climax comes closer and closer.
Your eyes squeeze closed hard with the mixture of pain and pleasure. You finally throw your head back against the wall as pleasure overtakes your body. You shudder against Elvis as you come down from your high. You wheeze breaths as he removes his fingers from you. He slides them into his mouth, cleaning them one by one. He releases your thigh and it falls to the ground with a thump. You reach up to brush some sweaty hair from your forehead as you catch your breath. You move to step toward the bathroom, but Elvis grabs onto your wrist.
“I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls, pushing you back against the wall. “You disrespected me. You better make it up.”
“How can I do that, sir?” you ask, playing along.
“Why don’t you tell me, mama?”
You smirk and bite your lip as you lift your leg and press the bottom of your heel onto his chest, pushing him back slowly. Once he’s far enough away, you step toward him and lift the jacket off his frame. You grab ahold of his tie, pulling it harshly against his neck as you drop down to a squat. Your fingers slowly undo the clasp of his belt and slide it out from the notches on his pants. You smirk up at him as you pull the pants down just far enough to see his member bulging in his boxers. Tracing a finger over it makes him shudder and inhale a sharp breath. You lean forward and lick it through his underwear, the precum already leaking through the blue fabric. Your fingers hook under the band of his boxers and pull them down just far enough for his dick to spring free. You hum happily at the sight of his girth and lean forward to drag your tongue from the base up to the tip.
When you reach the tip and taste the salty precum in your mouth, you press a kiss to it and then pull away to glance up at Elvis. He smirks down at you and grabs a fistful of your hair to press your mouth forward onto his dick. You open your lips, sucking him into your throat. You start to slowly bob your head forward against him, sucking extra hard on the tip. With each forward motion, you can taste his salt as your motions suck more out. His fingers grip your hair and you wince at the stinging pull on your roots. You grip the fabric of his pants as you jerk forward and back on his dick. It hits the back of your throat and you gurgle a little, pulling back to readjust.
You deep-throat him a few more times, humming onto him when he whispers quiet curses and grunts. You feel his member starting to twitch in your mouth and increase your speed, adding your hand to the base of his dick so you can pump him while you suck him off. After a few more seconds, he starts to jerk against your tongue and you pump him harder as he releases his warm cum into your mouth. You swallow, shuddering as the warm liquid slides down your throat. You pull away when he's finished, licking the tip clean as you glance up at him through your eyelashes.
In the blink of an eye, he’s back to pushing you against the wall, one of his hands holding both of your wrists flush above your head. The other hand pumps his dick a few times before he slides into you, a little sloppily. You both moan together at the intense pleasure.
“Fuck, mama, you take it so good,” he growls.
He starts to thrust against you and your hips immediately find a rhythm with him. Your head leans back against the wall. The space between you is filled with the sounds of your whimpers, his grunts, and skin slapping against skin. He pumps you mercilessly, slamming into you so hard that your body jerk back against the wall with the force.
“I wonder if they’ll host anything for Christmas?”
Your head jerks to the side and your eyes fly open as you realize more people are coming into the entryway. You glance back at Elvis with wide eyes, panic settling in between the moments of painful pleasure. He shakes his head but continues to thrust as the voices grow louder. You bite your lip hard, worried that you’re drawing blood, to keep from moaning. You can’t help but whimper quietly when he hits your g-spot unexpectedly. His hand immediately releases your wrists and clamps onto your mouth. You bite onto his fingers as he quietly hisses and glances toward the departing guests just below you.
He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as he slams into you again and again. You raise your leg, pushing his hips deeper into you as your back arches and your eyes squeeze tightly shut. You bite down hard on his fingers and start to shudder under his thrusts. He hisses. You drop your hands onto his back, ripping at the fabric and digging your nails into the muscles of his back. You can feel the sticky sweat drying on his forehead as he buries his face in your neck and convulses under your grip. You both shudder for a few moments, coming down from your highs.
By the time the front door is slamming shut with your guests’ departure, you’re both heaving in silence and trying to catch your breaths. Elvis’ face is still buried in your neck as he releases hot breaths onto your skin. Your fingers have uncurled on his back, resting in flat palms across his sweaty skin. He pulls back and slides himself out of you before pulling up his underwear and zipping up his pants.
You slip the strap of your dress back onto your shoulder and re-cover your breast. He bends down and hands you your panties, which he helps slide on one leg and then the other. You lean against the wall for support and use Elvis’ shoulders while he redresses you. Your legs are shaking gently with exhaustion. They feel like noodles and your pussy feels too swollen to fit inside your dainty lace panties.
Elvis’ fingers slide onto your chin, clutching it between his pointer finger and thumb. He swipes his thumb over your lips and then tugs your face toward him. He presses his lips sweetly against yours, kissing you perfectly on the mouth. Your eyes flutter closed and you sigh contentedly into the kiss. When he pulls back, he smiles down at you. You lean forward, running a hand through his wet black hair to push it back into place.
“That’s my good girl. You’re mine, Y/N. Don’t you ever forget it,” Elvis says gruffly, pressing another kiss to your forehead.
You intertwine your fingers into his and lean into the chaste kiss with a smile.
“I never forgot in the first place. But, I do have to admit that if you’re gonna punish me like this every time you get jealous, I might have to forget more often,” you reply with a smirk.
Elvis chuckles and pulls you into his arms for a warm hug. You nestle into his chest, closing your eyes to absorb his warmth.
“I guess we should get back to our party, huh?”
“I guess so. Since, apparently, we’re on-tap for Christmas, too. I’ll meet you back here, then, same time?”
“Anytime, mama.”
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The Devil in Disguise
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Requested: naurrr
Prompt: You feel like you know him, this strange and mysterious man. He's so familiar to you and, yet, who exactly is he? From the moment you lay eyes on him at the Masquerade Ball, you have to know. And, apparently, he feels the same about you. [ Fem!Reader ]
#25 Scenarios - Masquerade Ball
TW: None!
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 3688
A/N: i have always wanted to go to a masquerade, like literally my entire life lol. also masquerade from POTO was repeating in my head literally the entire time i was writing this help 💀
🦋 mila
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“God this stupid mask is so annoying,” you say, readjusting the damn thing for what feels like the four-hundreth time that night. “Remind me why we have to wear this tonight?”
“Because,” your best friend responds, stepping behind you to help your tangled fingers out of the knotted ribbon, “it's a masquerade ball. That’s the whole point of a masquerade.”
“That everyone’s uncomfortable?”
“That everyone’s wearing masks,” your friend responds, bonking you gently on the head with an open palm. “It’s a tradition that dates all the way back to the fifteenth century. They’re also pretty spooky and perfect for Halloween. Plus, it’s Dottie’s birthday and you know how particular she is about everything.”
“Ugh, Dottie. I forgot about her,” you say, referring to a girl you’d gone to school with since kindergarten.
Dottie is…spoiled, for lack of a better word. She rarely doesn’t get exactly what she wants when she wants it and, apparently, this masquerade party is no different. Not that you really mind. The thought of attending the party is actually sort of exciting. After all, how many times in one’s life does a person get to go to a real masquerade ball?
You can hardly believe you’re even doing it for real as you stare into the floor-length mirror in your friend’s closet. You can’t help but laugh out loud at how silly you look, standing in a pile of jeans and sweaters wearing a deep red ballgown with black lace and flared sleeves. You figured most guests would dress as princesses or queens, so you decided to do something different. The second you laid eyes on a deep red and gold painted mask with horns, you knew you’d found the perfect costume.
“Are you almost ready? I’d like to get it over with as fast as possible,” you say, tucking a rogue strand of hair back into the hairstyle your best friend has helped construct for you.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she replies, shrugging on a jacket and grabbing her keys from the dresser. “Got everything you need?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Hey if we arrive early, we can also leave early!” you say excitedly, tugging on her sleeve as you turn to exit her apartment.
She laughs but you know there’s little to no chance of her agreeing with you. Nope, you’d be stuck at this party for the next three hours. Three hours of your life that you’ll never get back.
The ride to Dottie’s mansion passes in the blink of an eye and the next thing you know, you’re climbing out of the car and walking down a faux red carpet that Dottie had laid out on the driveway leading up to the massive wooden front door.
“Are you joking?” you ask, rolling your eyes as your best friend laughs.
It feels like years by the time you reach the door but as soon as you enter the house, there’s a pair of butlers standing at the ready to take your coats and accessories. You feel heat creeping into your face, embarrassment settling as you realize how ridiculous everything seems. The butlers show you into the living room which will serve as the main ballroom for the evening’s festivities, according to the invitation, which was also unnecessarily fancy.
As you pass under the doorway, your eyes widen and your mouth drops open. It’s absolutely beautiful. The entire space has been totally transformed into something that resembles a mix between a 19th-century ballroom and a 60s club. You don’t know how to explain it other than that it sort of feels like a speakeasy, with mahogany floors and velvet red drapes hanging on the big rounded windows. There are several tables set up to the side of the main dance floor, many of the seats already filled and tables littered with half-eaten plates of charcuterie snacks and half-empty wine glasses.
You also spot a bar in the back left corner where a large group of guests is waiting for their drinks to be mixed and served. The lights are dimmed to give the room a surprisingly dark, spooky feeling, perfectly suited to the Halloween season. Candles, whether they're real or fake you can’t tell, glimmer around the room on the walls and tables. To bring the entire scene into the current era, Elvis Presley’s ‘You’re the Devil in Disguise' is currently booming around the room through the loudspeakers that have been placed everywhere. It’s amazing, but everywhere you look, all you can see is a fat stack of dollar signs.
Waiters dressed in black suits are circling around the room with silver trays of small snack food and glasses of champagne and punch. As one passes, you deftly swipe a glass of punch from the tray. He moves through your action as though you never even touched him. You glance at your best friend and shrug.
“This is icnredible,” she says and you nod.
“Yeah, I have to admit that Dottie’s really outdone herself this time. I shudder to imagine how much her parents spent on this little party of hers,” you respond, a little shiver accompanying your words. “So what does one even do at a party like this?”
“I guess the same thing you do at any other party. Find your friends and get dancing?”
You both shrug at each other and wade into the crowd standing on the sidelines of the dance floor, which is already overcrowded with couples and friends turning in dizzying circles of flashing color. It only takes a few minutes of awkward wandering before your friend, the utmost of social butterflies, finds a familiar face for you to talk to and drags you over to do introductions. You chat for a few minutes with the woman who stands before you dressed as some kind of princess.
When the song changes, the princess latches onto your friend and suggests they hit the dance floor. Your friend looks to you for permission which you gladly give.
“Have fun, you two!” you shout as they waltz away onto the floor.
While you wait on the sidelines, watching your best friend swirl around the dance floor, you absentmindedly swish your punch in its fancy stemmed glass. Your eyes lazily drag across the ballroom, evaluating the people dancing around in circles with their various partners and costumes. As you observe the scene, your gaze freezes on one man. He’s dressed as a prince. Prince Charming, perhaps? It somehow feels ironic, considering you're dressed as Satan's spawn.
He’s tall and nicely built with quite an impressively intricate costume. It’s comprised of perfectly fitted creamy-white breeches, dark navy socks, and a matching navy jacket with golden buttons and braided details spread across the fabric. You can’t quite see his face, just his jet-black hair which hangs longer in the back and is brushed off his forehead. Long, thick sideburns almost blend seamlessly into the black mask that covers the top half of his face.
Before you can catch up with yourself, he’s met your gaze and realized that you’re staring at him. You jerk yourself away, gulping down the shame and taking a large sip of the punch. When you dare another peek at the man, you look over to the place you last saw him and find the space empty. You do a quick double take and then sweep the area, searching for where he ran off to. With so many people crammed into the space, it’s like a search-and-find book. And you can’t find shit in this place.
Your friend’s laugh fills your ears as she clumsily makes her way back over to you, half-turned to wave goodbye to her friend. When she meets your eyes, she’s smiling happily.
“How was it? She seems nice.”
“Oh, she’s…lovely. So very lovely,” your friend responds and you think you can detect the smallest blush on her cheeks.
You’ve known for a while that your bestie is attracted to women, although you would never say anything until she’s prepared to tell you herself. It doesn’t matter one bit to you. At the moment, you’re just glad to have her back beside you.
“So, what do we do-”
“Scuse me, Miss.”
You turn at the sound of a man’s voice behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as you immediately recognize him; the man who caught you ogling at him from across the ballroom. His hand is outstretched toward you, palm up and waiting expectantly for you to take it.
“Can I have the next dance, darlin?” he asks. His voice is deep and raspy with a country twang that’s unmistakable.
“Uh…” you stutter dumbly, totally caught off-guard by his charming proposal. “Y-yes, of course. I’d be honored.”
You offer a small, nervous smile as you place your fingers gently into his. His long fingers curl around yours and he pulls you onto the dance floor. The music immediately changes, as if it was waiting for you both to step onto the floor. He swings you into his arms, one curled around your lower back, his fingers outstretched over the fabric, and the other holding your fingers firmly in his own.
“We met before, love?”
You find yourself unintentionally smiling underneath the mask as he spins you around. When you return face to face, you shake your head as elegantly as you can muster.
“No, sir. I don’t believe we have,” you reply and he spins you around again.
“You seem,” he pulls your body back into his and your chin raises instinctually. He runs his hand up the silk of your costume, tickling the skin of your back that the fabric doesn’t cover. “so familiar to me.”
“I can’t imagine why,” you respond as another spin comes. “Maybe we’ve met in a dream.”
“A nightmare’d be more like it,” he responds and your heart thuds against your chest.
“What?” you ask, both embarrassment and fear seizing you.
“Considerin ya costume, honey,” he clarifies and the pain of panic melts away from you.
“Oh,” you nod and laugh awkwardly.
His hand dances across the bare skin of your back, his warm palm pressed flat against the skin as he pulls your body into his own. You gaze up at him, your eyes trying desperately to somehow pry off the black mask that covers his face so expertly. His eyes sparkle mischievously through the two eyeholes, impossibly blue even in the dim lighting of the ballroom. Your eye traces down the curves and minutiae of his face, taking in the way his cheekbones cut sharply across his face, the way his straight and thin nose curves at the tip, the way his angular chin slices around his face, the way his plump red lips rest so comfortably against each other.
Before you have a chance to take in any more, he’s spinning you again. This time, you pause at arm's length from each other, your fingers holding on just by the fingertips. But, somehow, your grip on one another is strong, unbreakable. He pulls you back to him again and you resume your gaze for the quick moment which he dares to hold it.
“Maybe. But some things’re too good, even for dreams,” he responds, the corner of his mouth twitching up into the semblance of a smile. You laugh.
“I assure you, sir. I’m not one of those things.”
“Oh I beg to differ, honey.”
Again, he spins you out and holds you at arm's length.
“But if we don’t know each other,” he stops dancing abruptly, jerking you to a stop, also. You glance from side to side to see the other couples on the dance floor continuing to sway in circles and dance to the music. But you and he are stopped, paused in time, in the middle of the dancefloor. His hands are wrapped around yours, holding your fingers tightly in his own. You stare up at this mysterious man.
“I sure would like to,” he finishes, raising a hand to your cheek.
As soon as he touches you, you find yourself leaning into that feeling, craving more. Your eyes flutter closed against your will and you breathe him in, the faint smell of cigarette smoke and cologne tickling your nose. His thumb brushes against your collarbone and barely shifts the mask. Your eyes blink open with an idea.
You gently move your palms to cup both sides of his face. You stare up at him, tilting your head as you try to get a better look at him. He looks familiar, like you’ve seen him somewhere before. It’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t for the life of you figure out where. Your fingers gently crawl toward the mask and curl under the edge, starting to slowly lift it from his face.
He jerks away from your touch, evidently startled by the situation. You have nothing to hide under your mask but now you’re wondering if he does. Something about this mystery is too good to be true. It all feels like an illusion, one that you’re desperate to sustain for as long as possible. You stare up again into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest for a reason unknown to you. His fingers suddenly latch onto your wrist and he starts pulling you away from the dance floor.
“Come with me,” he says gruffly.
Before you have a chance to question him, you’re weaving through crowds of people and dancing couples dressed in a wide variety of costumes and masks, all of their identities obscured. It’s like wading through a crowd of strangers, of faces in a dream, some familiar but somehow unplaceable. It’s suffocating, so much so that you physically breathe a sigh of relief when you burst through the double french doors onto the balcony. The doors slowly close behind you and take with them the loud murmur of the crowd inside.
“We can get some privacy out here,” the man mutters over his shoulder.
The fresh air is brisk and there’s a steady wind. You move to release his hand, but his fingers just clutch down harder onto yours. Your breath catches in your throat for yet another time tonight and you turn to face him, leaning against the banister at the edge of the balcony. A few moments of silence pass as you try to figure out what to say. The awkward quiet is suddenly broken by the mysterious man’s laugh. A healthy, hearty laugh sounds from deep in his throat. You quirk an eyebrow at him, unable to resist the urge to smile.
“Did I miss something?” you ask with a quiet chuckle.
“Nah, honey, I just thought of somethin funny, that’s all.”
You take a step closer to him, the privacy inspiring a new boldness within you.
“Oh please, sir, pray tell,” you say in your deepest, most seductive voice.
He glances over at you with a smirk resting on his mouth. Your eyes drop down to his plump red lips and you take a quick moment to appreciate them before he responds.
“I’s just thinkin bout how you’re the devil in disguise,” he says, another snicker rising from his throat.
Your eyebrows furrow for a moment as you try to understand what the hell he’s talking about. Glancing down at your dress it suddenly hits you.
“Oh…like the Elvis song? Yeah, I guess I am,” you agree with a chuckle. A few moments of silence pass. “So…are you gonna tell me why you dragged me out here? Or am I just supposed to read your mind?”
He laughs again before turning to face you, leaning his elbow on the top of the balcony banister. His eyes quickly track up and down your figure, lingering on your lips for a moment long enough to make your heart flutter.
“I told ya already,” he says. “I wanna get to know ya better.”
“Alright. Ask me something, then. Rapid fire. You go, then I go.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth while he thinks of his first question.
“How d’ya know Dottie?”
“We went to school together for a long, long time. How do you know her?”
“We used to date. A long, long time ago.”
“Wow…I’m sorry,” you respond. You try to hold in a laugh but it comes spluttering out anyway. He laughs along with you. “Your turn.”
“Aright. What’s your name, darlin?”
“Y/N. What’s yours?”
“Damn, honey, you gonna keep stealin my questions? I can’t tell ya my name.”
“Maybe. And why not?”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Okay,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “That’s cryptic. Um…what’s your costume?”
“Ain’t it obvious? Prince Charming. My turn. You gotta fella?”
“A fella? As in a boyfriend? No,” you reply. “Why’d you cringe when I tried to take your mask off?”
He does a double-take, raising his eyebrows.
“Damn. Noticed that didja?” he asks and sighs.
“Yep. That doesn’t count as your question. But I’d like you to answer mine.”
He clears his throat and glances around
“Cause I don’t want nobody to know who I am.”
“Why?”
“Uh-uh, mama, it’s my question.”
You huff but let him ask anyway.
“You live round here?”
“Yep, about twenty minutes down the road. Now, why don’t you want anyone to know who you are?”
“It’s complicated, baby. It’d take me all night to explain.”
“I got time.”
“Goddamn, you’re persistent.”
“I just wanna know. You seem familiar to me, too. I’m just wondering if we’ve met before, that’s all.”
He shakes his head and then blows a puff of air onto his forehead, shifting the curled lock of hair that rests there.
“Alright, fine, fine, fine. I’ll tell ya, but you cannot tell a single other soul here, y’understand?” he says firmly.
You still can’t see his face but something about his tone and the sincerity in his eyes makes you immediately nod. He sighs one more time before leaning in closer to you.
“This may be hard to believe but…I’m Elvis.”
“Elvis?” you repeat slowly with a quirked eyebrow. “Elvis…Presley?”
He nods. You tilt your head to examine him more closely. As soon as you gaze back into his eyes your mouth pops open and you nod.
“Holy shit…you really are, aren’t you? I knew I knew you from somewhere. Wow…you know you could have lied. You could have told me any old name and I’d have believed you,” you whisper.
“I…”
You know you must look incredibly smug right now. By his reaction, you can tell that he hadn’t even thought about it. Integrity. You like that.
“You know I’ve had a major crush on you since I was little. I bought your first record when I was in high school. I have almost all of them now.”
“Really? Well, I know this ain’t the same but if it makes any difference, I’ve had a crush on you since I saw ya walk through that door tonight,” he says, tilting his head.
His eyes drop down to your lips and you couldn’t miss him biting his lip if you tried. The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth but you resist the expression. Instead, you step even closer to him, draping your hand over his on the balcony wall. His warm scent fills your nostrils again as you stare up at him with your best doe eyes.
“I’d like to see your face if you don’t mind.”
“I’d like to see yours, too.”
“On three,” you agree, raising your fingers to the edges of his mask. He follows suit, his large slender fingers attaching themselves to the ribbon at the back of your head.
“One,” you start.
“Two.”
“Three.”
On cue, you both slide each other’s masks up and over your heads. Your eyes immediately fall to his, taking in his features which were hidden by the mask before, familiar features. His eyebrows curve gently over his eyes, framing them handsomely. You can also see the full form of his nose, slender and straight all the way down to the tip. As your eyes bounce back and forth on his, you can tell that his eyes are doing the same to your exposed face. When you finally meet his gaze, he’s smiling sweetly down at you.
“Goddamn…the most beautiful woman I ever seen,” he says quietly. “The devil in disguise is really an angel underneath, ain’t she?”
You just giggle, curling your fingers around his. He tilts his head and his eyes drop quickly down to your lips again. You sneak a little peek yourself. His free hand moves up toward your face. He gently cups your face and strokes his thumb over the hollow skin of your cheek. With a raise of your tip-toes, you press your lips against his. At first, softly and then hungrily. As your lips move together, he intertwines his fingers into yours and shifts his grip onto the back of your head and neck, pulling your mouth harshly against his own.
Your fingers find their way onto his shoulders, gripping at the velvety fabric of his costume and adhering his body to yours. Elvis turns his face to the side to kiss you deeper, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue. You giggle into the kiss but open your lips for him. His hot, wet tongue swipes along yours and you hum quietly in satisfaction. Your stomach begins to turn uneasily and your heart beats frantically in your chest. When you feel your lungs begin to run out of air, you push gently against his chest to separate yourself from him. You pull apart, both panting for breath, but your foreheads remain pressed against each other. Silence falls between you as you try to catch your breath.
“You got one more question if you wanna use it,” you whisper against his lips. “I asked the last one.”
He doesn’t miss a single beat before responding.
“Whatcha doin later?”
You chuckle breathily and lift your gaze to stare up into his sparkling blue eyes. You smirk.
“Not a damn thing.”
“You wanna get a hot dog or somethin? I’m starvin. You hungry?”
“Famished.”
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CLAIMED
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler (Werewolf!Austin)
Requested: y'all have asked me to do this and i'm here to DELIVER
Prompt: He can smell you even when you're not there. He can sense your presence. He knows where you are at all times and he can hear when you're safe and when you're not. A wild dog, a slave to the moon. He has CLAIMED you.
TW: Mentions of blood, gore, an epic werewolf fight lmfao, I think that's it!
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 6397
A/N: AHHH HE'S FINALLY HERE!! I didn't realize how badly I needed this until 6k words later 😅 I have to be honest though I had SO much fun writing this and it's probably one of my favorite things that I've ever written!!! I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
Part two of the Supernatural Series. See all three parts by checking out my #SupernaturalSeries tag.
🦋 mila
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“What are we doing here?” you hiss at your friend.
It’s almost two-thirty in the morning on Halloween night. Not only did your friend keep you up until two a.m. at the high school’s biggest Halloween party, but now they’re dragging you into what’s probably the creepiest building you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like some sort of abandoned warehouse with threatening broken glass windows, barred doors, and some sort of horrible smell reminiscent of wet dog. Your head is pounding thanks to the ungodly amount of tequila you inhaled at the party and what you really want to do right now is change out of your costume and into pajamas for a good night’s sleep. A very long sleep.
“Shh,” your friend whispers back as they yank on your hand. “I told you I had a cool Halloween surprise for you. Just be quiet and follow me. You’ll understand soon, once I can get us into the building…”
“Understand what? Alex, I just want to go home and go to bed,” you complain, tossing your free hand into the air. “I drank way too much and now I'm exhausted.”
Alex releases your hand so they can try to figure out how to get into the building. A cold breeze blows through the air and you clamp your arms over your chest, rubbing the goosebumps from your bare skin. Now you wish you’d chosen a warmer costume. You groan when Alex doesn't respond, too invested in breaking and entering. You reach into your pocket and fish out your phone.
“Well, whatever then. You know what, I’m gonna call Austin and see how he’s doing," you say and step away.
Austin, your ex-boyfriend of several years. According to Alex, he was supposed to be in attendance at the Halloween party tonight, but he called to cancel less than an hour before the party. Apparently, he’d fallen ill. At first, you were disappointed. You've never stopped having feelings for Austin and had been sort of hoping that you’d be able to rekindle something at the party.
You’d gathered all the courage you had and texted Austin to wish him good health and tell him you'd pay him a visit in the morning. Since you have a free moment now, you might as well use it to check in on him. Austin rarely gets sick or injured, almost never actually, so it’s always a little more than concerning when he does.
You dial the familiar number and hold the phone to your ear, waiting patiently. After a few moments of ringing, you get sent to his voicemail. You smile at the soothing sound of his deep, raspy voice but then hang up. He must be asleep.
A loud clicking noise sounds as Alex breaks through one of the bars on the door. You spin and watch as they throw the wooden beam to the side with ease. Your eyebrows shoot up, although this display of strength doesn’t really surprise you all that much. You always knew Alex was incredibly strong although they don’t look it. They’ve been an all-star field hockey player for the last three years at your high school.
“Didn’t answer?” they ask and you nod. “Yeah, I figured,” they mutter quietly.
You don’t miss the furrow of their eyebrows as they drop their gaze from yours.
“What?” you ask.
“Oh, nothing. He just doesn’t get sick that often, so it’s probably pretty bad.”
“Right…” you nod but something in your gut doesn’t feel right. Maybe it's this haunting place.
Your relationship with Austin has been nothing short of rocky recently. Before you broke up, he was increasingly absent, sometimes randomly and suddenly leaving to go ‘take care of something.’ You hadn’t minded at first, figuring it was a personal thing. In the past, your fights had been pretty contained and calm. This one was quite the opposite.
He didn’t even bother to show up. It was your anniversary dinner last month and he forgot completely. You’d gotten into it, complaining about how he’s never around anymore and never pays attention to you. He seemed to be handling the argument well until you accused him of cheating.
“I’m sorry! I was taking care of something!” he shouted, balling his fingers into fists.
“Taking care of what, Austin? Another person? How stupid do you think I am? I can tell pretty clearly that you’re not paying attention to me anymore which means you must be paying attention to someone else!”
Suddenly, he grabbed ahold of a glass cup that was resting on the counter and threw it down. It cracked into a million pieces, shattering glass everywhere. None of it hit you or anything, but you were horrified by his outburst. You could never forget how his eyes seemingly started to somehow shift color under the light. Normally bright blue, they were turning yellow right before your eyes. You’d never noticed before, that his eyes were like mood ring circles that changed colors with his emotions. He seemed to grow larger, too, to tower over you with bulging muscles. When he took a step toward you, you stepped back in fear and accidentally placed your palm on top of the table. With a hiss, you pulled it back in front of you to find a tiny piece of glass stuck in the skin, quickly seeping red with blood.
When you glared back up at Austin, his eyes had softened and he looked terrified by his actions. He threw his hands up and then turned, rushing out of your house. You followed after him, desperate to know what the hell was going on with him. But by the time you’d thrown the door open and stepped out onto the porch, he was gone. He was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air. Your heart thumped with fear as two yellow circles flashed through the forest in the distance. But when you blinked and looked again, they were gone. Actually, you don’t even think you ever saw them at all.
After that fight, he disappeared for several weeks. You came around his house to check on him and apologize, but his parents said that he had taken a vacation for a few days. You found it a bit odd, but when he returned, word spread fast around school about his little trip. Apparently, he’d been struggling with anxiety and anger management so he went away to a therapy center to get help.
You hadn’t seen him in quite some time, aside from the occasional pass in the hallway, but he and Alex had been close friends for a while.
Something that had always bugged you when you were dating was a nagging feeling that he was lying to you about something, that he was hiding something from you.
Alex holds the door open and gestures for you to enter. With a huff, you step in, the heels of your shoes clicking against the concrete pavement. It’s blindingly dark inside, not a ray of light to be seen other than a single blueish-white stripe from the light of the full moon which shines on a small circle on the floor in the middle of the room. It illuminates the immediate area around it, but there’s not much to see other than a couple of random rocks and something you that looks suspiciously like a dead rat. You shudder as Alex shuts the door behind you, slamming closed with a loud noise.
Despite the alcohol still coursing through your veins, you’re starting to feel extremely awake and very sober. You gulp as another cold breeze blows through the dilapidated building.
“Alex, what the hell are we doing here?” you ask, irritated. “I’m very tired and I’d really like to go home.”
“I just need to show you something, that’s all,” they say. “As soon as I find the light switch…aha!”
Dazzling yellow light suddenly fills the room and your eyes instinctively blink as they attempt to adjust to the new environment. After a few minutes, you can see well enough to start scanning the area. It’s a massive room with no walls or structures to divide it. A large wooden chandelier hangs from the ceiling, illuminating most of the space. In the front of the room, there’s some sort of massive stone table with markings all over it. To the left is a huge stone fireplace with a row of couches and chairs spread around. The chairs are even dressed with red plaid blankets and tiny flattened pillows.
As your gaze follows the contour of the room, you see what looks like a massive kitchen-like area. There are barstool seats around a few high-top tables and a massive fridge, like the largest fridge you’ve ever seen in your life. Right next to that is a changing room divider and a rack with clothes hanging on it. You quirk an eyebrow but step further into the room anyway. It’s surprisingly warm and cozy, like it used to be some sort of cabin or lodge or something.
“What do you think?” Alex asks and you turn toward them. They’re staring back at you with a huge grin on their face. “Pretty sweet, huh?”
“I mean, sure, but…what is it? Did it used to be like some sort of ski lodge or something?”
As you ask the question, you step up toward the stone table, interested in the one piece of furniture which doesn’t seem to fit.
“Well, I guess it is a lodge of sorts but not for skiers. It’s actually a lot older than it seems, too. It’s been around for almost two hundred years.”
“Yeah, this weird stone table definitely gives off that vibe,” you chuckle as you step up onto the platform.
Alex chuckles and continues explaining the history of the strange place.
“That table is incredibly important. It holds extremely potent cultural value and isn’t allowed to be moved from this spot until the al- er…archaeologists can clear the area and transport it safely,” Alex explains but you zone out as they’re talking.
The stone table has you completely enraptured. It’s incredible. As you peer down at it, you think you can decipher a few of the symbols: one that looks like a bear claw, one that looks like a sun, and one that looks sort of like a sabertooth tiger or maybe a wolf. In the middle of the table, there’s an engraving larger than the rest. It’s a huge circle with three large slashes through it as if an animal had angrily defaced it. Absentmindedly, you reach out toward it and run your fingertips across the deep, stony inscriptions. Alex’s deep gasp startles you and your head pops up to meet their gaze.
“What are you doing?” they shout.
“What?”
Alex sprints up toward you, grabbing onto your wrist and pushing your fingers away from the table.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what, Alex? I just touched it. Is the oil on my fingers gonna damage it or something?” you ask with a shake of your head.
“Just…don’t touch anything else. Let’s go,” they say, turning and pulling on your arm. “We shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake to bring you. My mistake.”
“Woah, Alex, what the hell is happening? What is this place, anyway, I thought-”
Your speech is cut off as the ground below you starts to shake. You spread your arms out to balance yourself as the whole building itself begins to feel like an earthquake is rumbling through. Alex glances at you with wide, wild eyes, and you can clearly see the terror in them. After a few moments, the rumbling stops and you glare at Alex.
“What the fuck was that?” you demand and Alex just gestures toward the door and breaks out into a sprint.
You throw your hands up but follow them anyway. You only make it about three steps before something crashes through the window. You throw your arms over your head to protect it. When you lower them, you shriek in fear at the sight of a massive wolf stalking its way toward you with a snarl pasted on its face. You jerk to the side with a yelp as another wolf bursts through a different window. Alex steps in front of you, holding their arms out to shield you. You step backward, shaking with fear as more and more wolves begin to surround you in a circle. In just a few moments, you and Alex are standing in the middle of the feral crowd, helpless and left completely at their mercy.
“What the fuck!” you scream, backing up further.
You stop abruptly as you hear a growl from behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see another wolf positioned to attack your backside. You step forward, clutching onto Alex’s jacket and scanning the circle of wolves gathered around you with horror. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your entire body feels like it's vibrating with fear. Alex drops to their knee, placing a fist over their heart. You stand completely still, too terrified to do anything.
“Alpha, domine mi,” Alex says with their head bent reverently in front of one of the wolves.
The wolf is absolutely massive, definitely bigger than any normal wolf you’ve ever seen. Its black fur is like a shadow in the night with two bright yellow eyes glinting in the dim light of the warehouse. It growls and straightens its head.
“You have brought a human to us,” it says.
Your mouth drops open and you stumble back with shock. It spoke….it genuinely just spoke human words.
“Why have you done this, Parvulus?” it continues.
Your eyes flick back and forth manically from Alex to the wolf. The air is filled with growls, snarls, and yips coming from every direction. You quickly count the wolves and come up with nine.
“I…" Alex responds in a shaky voice. "They're my friend. They won’t say anything, I swear. I will fix this, domine. I-I swear it."
“It is too late!” the wolf, apparently the alpha, snaps and bares his teeth at you. “It must be disposed of. You know the law.”
You clutch harder onto Alex’s jacket as the wolves step closer in unison. Your heart slams in your chest and you can feel your breaths catching in your throat with the panic as you start to hyperventilate.
“Alex, please tell me you can fix this. Please, I’m scared,” you mutter into their ear as they stand.
“I won’t let them hurt you,” they respond and then address the alpha wolf. “You can’t have them. We must find another way. This is my wrongdoing. Take me, instead.”
You watch with frantic eyes. You try to step closer to Alex but there's no more room for you to go.
“If you insist, Parvulus, then we shall take you both!” the wolf growls, lunging forward.
As he does so, Alex shoves you back and you fall onto the ground. You wince as the hard concrete slams against your tailbone but scramble to your feet quickly as you notice the wolves closing in on you. You glance back over to Alex and scream. They’ve shifted into the form of a wolf, just like the others, although much smaller. The massive alpha wolf lunges toward Alex and clamps down hard on their neck, despite Alex’s best efforts to fight back. You whimper in fear as you can do nothing but watch and hope Alex can save you both. Most of the wolves descend upon Alex and you gasp as they start to rip at their fur and face. The massive black alpha wolf steps away from the massacre and shifts its attention to you.
“I do so love my dinner fresh,” it growls, baring its teeth.
You step backward with your hands outstretched and absolutely no idea what to do. The wolf lunges forward suddenly and you drop to your knees, throwing your arms over your face. To your surprise, nothing happens. You feel no pressure and no pain. You open your eyes to see another wolf in front of you. This one is larger than the other and has sandy, yellow fur. It growls as it stands in front of you like it's trying to guard you against the other black wolf.
“They are under my reign. Leave them alone or die,” the sandy wolf barks.
‘Who are you to claim it?“ the black wolf hisses. ”My pack has discovered it here. It is ours to take.“
“Do you not smell my mark on them? My claim.”
The sandy wolf growls and they begin to circle each other. You slowly back up, glancing over at Alex, who lies off to the side, lifeless and bleeding terribly. The black wolf growls and then lunges at the sandy one, clamping its teeth onto its neck. You gasp and cover your mouth as the sandy wolf does the same to the black one. As they toss each other around back and forth, you run over toward Alex, who’s now sitting up. You pause in your tracks as Alex’s fur begins to retreat into their skin. Once they appear mostly human, you drop to your knees beside them and start examining their wounds.
“I’m sorry,” is all they say before your attention is redirected toward the wolf fight going down in the middle of the room.
The sandy wolf has the black one pinned down with all four paws and is tearing at its neck mercilessly. The black wolf is whimpering in pain as it tries to wriggle out from under the sandy one. It bites hard onto the sandy wolf’s stomach and it howls and releases the black wolf from its grasp. The black wolf then growls and runs away limping, its pack following behind.
“This is not over, Impetus,” it growls as it runs off.
The sandy wolf stands still, its head moving as it tracks the black wolf’s retreat.
“Help me!” Alex shouts and you turn toward them with wide eyes. You shake your head, not understanding their meaning.
Alex scrambles toward the corner and the space is suddenly filled with light. You hadn't even noticed it was there before. Chains are bolted securely onto the wall and attached to metal contraptions that look like animal traps. There are several stations, each with the same combination of chains. It looks like a trap for wild animals. Wild wolves. Alex unclamps some of the chains and moves deftly to hook one onto the sandy wolf’s back left foot. The wolf rears up and slams down on Alex, pushing them over. They slide back across the concrete and slam into the wall. They clutch their shoulder and glance over at you with fearful eyes.
“Stop!” you shout, stepping toward the wolf.
You slide your shoe off quickly and toss it at the creature. It bounces off his shoulder and he turns to glare at you, although he makes no move to attack you. Because he shifted, however, he has also exposed his other back foot to Alex, who moves quickly to chain it to the wall. He howls and pulls against the chains as he turns back toward them and begins to approach Alex. Your friend is bleeding from their nose, the side of their head, and all over their arms and legs. They can’t defend themself. The wolf rears back, preparing to pounce. You gasp and sprint over to Alex, throwing yourself in front of them.
“No!” you shout, throwing your open palms in front of the wolf. “Stop!”
It jerks back suddenly. You gaze into its eyes which soften immediately. It steps back and you watch as the yellow eyes start to fade into blue. They widen and the wolf pauses, long enough for Alex to jump to action, chaining its last two paws up and turning an ancient-looking crank to pull the wolf back against the wall. It weakly fights the chains but then drops defeatedly.
You feel sadness and pity rising in your throat. Tears threaten to spill as you stare into the eyes of the wolf. You’d know those eyes anywhere. Those blue sparkling eyes like waves on a stormy sea and the sandy fur, almost exactly the same human blonde color as…
“Austin…” you whisper quietly. “Austin…”
The wolf bows its head, lying limply on the floor in almost a shamed position. You shake your head and step toward him slowly and carefully. He barely reacts as you approach him. Once you’re close enough to touch him, you drop down to your knees. You lift your hand and then hesitate in the air before gently placing your shaking fingers underneath the wolf's head. You lift it by the chin and stare into the eyes again. The wolf huffs in your grasp and raises its gaze to meet you.
“Oh Austin, baby…” you say, your face screwing up with tears. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
You drop your gaze down, not wanting Austin to see you cry. But your head shoots back up when you feel his face starting to shift in your hand. You pull your hand back with a gasp as Austin’s fur begins to shrink back into his skin. You fall back onto your ass and watch as his eyes flick back and forth from yellow to blue. His large teeth shrink back into his gums, still sharper than normal human teeth but rounding out slowly. The structure of his face cracks and shifts back into place. His head drops down, his arms restrained behind him. He releases a breath and you watch his back muscles as they contract with his breathing, now just human skin. His fingernails are still long and pointed, like claws, and when he lifts his head, you can see hair along his jawline. His nose is enlarged and his ears are pointed, just like the werewolves you see on tv.
“Here’s some cleaning stuff for you guys,” Alex’s small timid voice sounds from behind you. “Sorry about this. I’ll…leave you some time alone.”
Alex places the things she's carrying down on the ground next to you. It's a bowl of water and a towel, clearly previously used judging by the faded brownish-red blood stains. You and Austin both wait in silence until Alex has left the room. Immediately, you reach your hand back up to his face, placing it on his cheek and turning his gaze up to meet you. He glances at you with furrowed eyebrows. He looks ashamed. You take a few shaky breaths, the tears still gathering despite your best efforts to force them back down. He harshly pulls his face away from you, avoiding your eyes. You gulp and move to start unfastening the chains that hold his hands and arms hostage. He yanks his hand away.
“No. Not until I’m fully human again,” he says dryly. “I can’t risk the chance of hurting you.”
You nod and return to your seated position, not sure exactly what to say to him.
“I understand if you never want to see me again,” he continues.
You’re silent for a moment, genuinely trying to digest everything that’s just happened.
“Don’t be a fool, Austin,” you say. “Of course I want to see you again. I just…I don’t understand-”
“So now you know,” he interrupts you. He lifts his head and you can already see that the hair has shrunk considerably and he’s starting to look even more like his human self. “Why I’ve been so distant, why I’ve been acting so…weird lately.”
You nod slowly, dropping your eyes as it all starts to settle in. This is real. It’s actually happening. After a few moments of silence, you glance back at Austin to see the human man you know and love. You move again to unfasten his restraints. He recoils from your touch but you gently place a hand on his wrist.
“It’s okay. I’m not afraid. I trust you, Austin.”
His eyebrows remain furrowed but he allows you to undo the clamps and release him. As soon as you unclip the last shackle, he falls forward uncontrollably. You just barely catch him on your shoulder, although his heavy body pushes you onto the floor. You glance up at him, heat creeping onto your cheeks as he hovers over top of you.
“Well this is familiar at least,” you joke and he shakes his head with a sad laugh.
He grimaces as he pushes himself off of you. You stand and grab the bowl and towel with one hand, sliding the other arm around Austin's waist to help support him as you stumble over toward the couches and the fireplace. You drop Austin into one of the chairs as gently as possible. You kneel by him and soak the towel in the water. You look up at Austin’s body, taking a minute to assess the damage. He has a bad gash in his stomach and cuts and bruises everywhere else. Not to mention that his shirt was ripped to shreds and the black sweatpants he was wearing are barely strung across his frame. You ring out the towel and gently press it to the largest gaping wound on his stomach. He hisses and leans forward, his hands gripping tightly onto your wrist. You see the tips of his fingers lengthen and sharpen as his claw threaten to come out again. He releases you with a pained breath.
“Sorry…”
“It’s okay,” you reply and gently press the towel down again.
A few moments of silence pass until you gather the courage to speak.
“How..how did this happen?” you ask, shaking your head.
Austin chuckles dryly.
“You know that scar on my side,” he says and your eyes immediately drop to the place. You know it well. “Yeah, that one. I didn’t get it from a dog attack. Well, I guess I did but not a domestic dog. Not a pet, I mean. It was a wolf. My alpha.”
“Your…alpha? That black wolf that was trying to eat me?”
“Esuriens? No, he was never my alpha. My alpha is dead. His name was Magnus.”
“Wait…that wolf, it called Alex something different, something that started with a p?”
“Parvulus. It means ‘little one,’ because they’re the smallest wolf in the chapter. Every werewolf is solidified into their pack with a Latin name that has to do with their personality or characteristics. Latin is the language of the werewolves since our sire was Latin, the first werewolf.”
“The chapter? I thought werewolves were in packs.”
“They are. But packs are also organized into chapters. We’re very organized, you know,” he says with a smirk. You smile and dip the towel back into the water.
"What’s your Latin name?”
“Impetus. It means impulsive,” he says with a chuckle. You smile and bite your lip.
“Sounds about right. So, what exactly is this place and how come that other…pack just showed up here?”
“This is the chapter headquarters. It’s where we all meet for our yearly ceremony and commencement. That stone table up there, that’s the altar. It’s how we call our fellow pack members.”
“I thought you could just howl?”
“Only the alpha can howl to call their pack. Whenever betas or omegas need help, they use the altar. It was originally used by humans many centuries ago to call on the wolves whenever they needed help. When you touched the full moon symbol in the center, you sent out a distress call to the packs. Esuriens’ pack was probably the only one to respond since most of us like to stay inside on nights like these.”
You wring out the towel again and rewet it, shifting so that you can reach Austin’s face. He spreads his legs without question so that you can slide between them. You gulp and mutter your thanks as you reach up to clean the wounds on his head and face.
“Nights like these?”
He gestures up toward the beam of moonlight that shines down onto the floor.
“Full moon.”
“Right, of course. Well, where’s your pack? Where’s your…like alpha and stuff?”
He hisses and jerks forward, his hand latching itself onto your waist and squeezing as he works through the pain. Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You and Austin haven’t been intimate in a long time. And you've missed his touch like oxygen. He clears his throat as his blue eyes gaze deeply into yours.
“I…am the alpha,” he says. “My pack is at our lair, hopefully restrained and not hurting anyone. That’s why I couldn’t come tonight. I wasn’t sick. I was watching over my pack, but when I realized the distress call came from you, I knew I had to come."
“How could you possibly have known it came from me?”
"Your scent and your heartbeat. I know them. Intimately," he says with a smile. You bite your lip as you place the towel back down on his wound. “I always have a good sense for where you are and whether you're in danger. Sometimes I tap into it just to check on you."
"So...you stalk me?" you ask jokingly with a chuckle.
"No! I'm just watching out for you. Don't be a perv."
You giggle and wring out the towel again.
"So, do you stalk me often?"
"Only when I think you might've made a bad decision. I almost didn't come tonight, actually."
"Oh?" you ask, looking at him incredulously. "Why's that?"
"I...really shouldn't be around you when the full moon hits. That’s why I was so distant before and-”
He hisses as you accidentally push a little too hard on a wound on his arm. His mention of the distance between you threw you through a quick flash of anger, but you quietly apologize and release the pressure.
“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me this," you say. "Why is it so dangerous for you to be around me?”
He glances at you, his eyes asking you to let it go, but you persist, gesturing with your hand for him to continue. He sighs and shakes his head.
“The truth, Y/N, is that the full moon brings out all of our most animalistic traits. Not just the vicious ones but the…biological ones too.”
“What are you saying?” you sit back on your heels with furrowed eyebrows.
“I…when the full moon hits it makes us extra…well, horny. To a fault, sometimes. When my alpha died, he named me as his successor. Why I have no fucking clue but here we are. I had to leave to get control of myself. As an alpha, all of my senses were dialed to like a thousand. It got to the point where I couldn’t resist you whenever you were around, where I needed to have you, to smell your scent and touch you,” his eyes drop down to take inventory of your figure and you gulp nervously under his scrutinizing gaze. “It was becoming dangerous for us to be together. But what I learned while I was gone was…was that there’s a way to control it. There’s a way to turn that passion against itself.”
“What are you talking about, Austin? I don’t understand,” you whisper, having unintentionally moved closer to him.
Your hands are resting on his knees and he’s leaning over to look down at you. He raises a hand, wincing with the movement, and places his open palm on your cheek. You lean into his touch as he strokes your cheek with his thumb.
“You’re the key to controlling my shift.”
“I thought you just said I was the reason you can't control it?”
“You are, or you were. But what I was tapping into was my lust for you, my desire. But if I just focus on how you make me feel, the way my heart reacts to you, my…my love for you, then I can anchor myself in those human feelings.”
“Love?”
“I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I’ve only learned to love you harder and that love makes me stronger. I need you but not in the way I did before. I need your soul, everything that you are. It’s all meant for me as I’m meant for you.”
You pull away from him for a moment, feeling overwhelmed with so many emotions you could never name. them all You release a few deep breaths as you try to get a handle on your feelings. It’s as if your heart is reaching out to him like it knows the words he speaks are true, like it wants you to give in. You feel tears brimming in your eyes.
“You said...you told the other alpha that you marked me, claimed me or something. What did you mean?”
Austin’s fingers gently curl around your wrist and lift your arm up into the space between you. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he gently flips your wrist around and runs his thumb over a tiny, vaguely star-shaped scar on your wrist. You’ve noticed it before, of course, but you figured you just stabbed yourself with your nail overnight or accidentally cut it at some point and never noticed. Austin smiles handsomely and looks up to gaze into your eyes.
“This scar is my claim on you. It contains my scent and warns all other werewolves that you’re taken, that you belong to me and to my pack. I have the same here,” he lifts his wrist and you see that you do, in fact, have matching scars.
“How did you do it?”
“With my claw.”
“How did I not feel it?”
“Our marks are done while our soulmate sleeps. It causes no pain to them. If the scar remains, the soulmate has accepted the match. The only way it can be undone is for both parties to reject the union.”
You look away as the brimming tears start to fall down your cheeks. Austin’s hand maneuvers your face back to him and he tilts his head like a puppy to look at you.
“What’s wrong, love? Does this make you unhappy?”
“No, I…it’s just all so much,” you say through tears. Austin gently wipes them away from your cheeks and smiles sadly.
“If you want to remove it, we can do so. Just say the word and I’ll be out of your life forever.”
“Shut up, Austin,” you chuckle through shaky breaths. “I never want to remove it. I want it there forever. I want you there forever.”
He inhales sharply before crashing his lips onto yours. His hands immediately clutch onto your waist and he pulls you to stand. You slide your knees onto the chair and sit down on his lap. Your hands find his shoulders and then slide up onto his neck. You tangle your fingers into his hair. He tilts his head as one of his hands slides up your neck and into your hair, holding your lips against his. You tug on his roots and he moans quietly into your mouth. His hands grip you harshly and you can already feel him growing stiff underneath your legs.
His lips slip off of yours and attach themselves to your neck. His fingers pull on your locks to tug your head to the side so he can reach your neck better. You tilt your head back as he bites onto the sensitive skin under your jaw. You moan quietly and bite your lip. You gasp as you feel his hips rise up to meet you but then wince as his grip tightens on you and he bites down hard on your throat. Your hands fly to his chest and you firmly push him back. He stares up at you with wide eyes and swollen pink lips, shining with his saliva.
“Fuck I’m sorry…” he says, his eyebrows furrowing as he drops his head.
You slide your finger underneath his chin and tilt his head up.
“It’s okay,” you reply and lean forward to press a gentle, chaste kiss onto his lips. “Just be careful with me, tiger. Or should I say wolf.”
He smiles, pulling you flush against him, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your frame. He buries his face in your shoulder, rubbing his head around as he nestles there. You close your eyes and sigh contentedly. You missed this and now you understand why Austin used to do this so much.
“Are you marking me with your scent?” you ask with a giggle.
He pulls back and you can already see a blush settling on his cheeks. Whether it’s from his embarrassment or the heat of your makeout session, you aren’t sure.
“Sort of…”
You laugh and kiss his hot forehead.
“Alright,” he says, sliding his hands underneath your legs and lifting you, “let’s get you home. Come on.”
He carries you bridal style along the dark Halloween night streets and you nestle into his hot skin. He smells earthy, musky, and like dried sweat. You somehow manage to fall asleep and, the next thing you know, your eyes are opening to see Austin carefully tucking you into your bed.
“I need to get back to my pack, but I’ll check on you in the morning.”
“I was supposed to be checking on you. Did you change my clothes?” you ask with a contented smile as you realize you’re no longer in costume and in a large t-shirt instead. Actually, it’s one of Austin’s old tees you never gave back.
He smiles and sits on the edge of the bed, intertwining his fingers into yours. You feel his thumb swiping over the scar and you smile wider.
He leans over and gently presses his lips to yours. You smile into the kiss, squeezing his fingers between yours. You curl your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He squeezes your shoulders, rubbing his head into your neck. You breathe him in, satisfied that he’s leaving your bedroom with your scent all over him. When he pulls back, he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead and then pulls the blankets up to your chin. He runs his fingers through your hair.
“Rest well, my love,” Austin says and you close your eyes, slipping into a deep sleep.
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#austin butler#milasthings#milasaustincontent#milasfics#milasaustinfics#spoopy szn 2022#SupernaturalSeries#werewolf aus#werewolf!austin
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Cabin in the Woods
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler
Requested: yes - @scrambled-eggs-y i hope you like it love!
Prompt: #11 Dialogue - "Oh, I see. I someone a little scared?"
TW: Mentions of some pretty scary stuff 😅 blood, gore, demons, etc. They're scary stories, so just be aware!
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 1753
A/N: i stole these scary stories from online and then changed them lolol i could not come up with a scary story on my own if my life depended on it 💀
🦋 mila
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“I’m bored,” you say, pulling your knees in closer to your chest. “We should play a game or something, Austin. You decide.”
“Alright,” Austin responds, leaning back onto his elbows in the mud behind him.
You’re currently sitting underneath a massive oak tree around a crackling firepit with a marshmallow shoved onto the end of a wooden roasting stick. You’ve been looking forward to this camping trip with your best friend Austin for a really long time. While you told everyone it was an enthusiasm for camping, the reality is that you’ve been vastly looking forward to having some alone time with him. When he suggested that just you and he spend the weekend at his parent’s cabin together, you were surprised, but there was no way in hell you were about to turn that opportunity down. And now, here you are, shaking from the cold breeze and sweating from nerves at the same time.
“Ooh I got it,” Austin continues after a short silence. “How about we tell each other scary stories?”
You can’t help but chuckle as you carefully pull the sticky marshmallow off the poker and plop it into your mouth.
“What are we, like five? I haven’t told a scary story since I was a kid.”
“I see. Can’t handle the adult scary stories. That’s fine. We can do something else.”
“Hold on now,” you murmur, wiping some sticky marshmallow residue from the side of your mouth. “I did not say that. I can handle whatever you throw my way. In fact, why don’t you start us off.”
“Gladly,” Austin responds, offering an exaggerated bow. You giggle but roll your eyes before he begins his spooky tale. “When I was a kid in Anaheim, we lived in this neighborhood with a lot of families and it was a pretty tight community. So, when someone new moved it, we usually all noticed. Well, this family moved into a house at the end of the street, which was kinda run down and creepy looking. Most kids avoided it, even during Halloween. It was a nice family, parents and a couple of young kids, two boys and a girl, I think. The adults liked to say that the house was haunted. There was a woman who died there and, apparently, everyone blamed the husband who disappeared not too long after her death. They said the woman’s spirit haunted the house and that she hated men. I used to hang out with one of the kids, Max was his name. After a while, I started noticing all these cuts and bruises, like he was being hurt by something. It started getting worse and, whenever he was mean to his sister or any of the girl kids in the neighborhood, he’d get these scratches. And they weren’t paper cuts here, Y/N, we’re talking lacerations a few centimeters deep all up and down his body. Long, catlike scratches. Like they came from a woman's long nails.”
You’re not necessarily scared by his story but as you glance around your surroundings, you start to realize how dark it is outside. You gulp, trying to refocus your attention on him and not to think about how you can barely see beyond the outline of the circle of trees in which you both sit.
“One day, the kid comes running out of the house. We were all playing, the rest of the neighborhood, in the street. And this kid comes sprinting out of the house, screaming bloody murder. I look over and he’s got blood everywhere, all over his arms and up his neck and on his face. There’s blood streaming out of his eye sockets and dripping down his face. There was so much, his eyes were just red, stained with the blood. It was matted into his hair and all over his clothes. When I looked closer as he ran by, I saw it. Tiny nails, almost like those fake ones you get at the store? They were stuck all over his body, stuck in him, like they’d been jammed into his skin. Suddenly, he just fell on the grass by us. Dead.”
You shudder as a cold breeze blows and the images that Austin is describing flash through your brain. You instinctively jerk your head toward the dark forest as if you can feel a threat brewing there as if scanning your surroundings will save you if something is hiding there.
“Y/N, you good?”
“What? Oh yeah. Just fine,” you respond, curling your arms over your chest and trying to rub the goosebumps away from under your jacket.
“You shivered.”
“Yeah…It’s cold,” you say with a shrug.
You jump unintentionally when the haunting sound of a wolf howling in the distance echoes through the trees and the black night sky.
“Oh, I see,” Austin mutters, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. “Is someone a little scared?"
He wiggles his eyebrows as that evil smile continues to crease his cheeks. You can feel heat immediately creeping into your own face and cross your arms more firmly over your chest. You shake your head vigorously and add a scoff for good measure.
“Absolutely not. I’m not scared of your stupid story, Austin.”
“Oh? Then you won’t mind if I tell another one?”
You bite the inside of your cheek as your ear picks up on another unidentifiable sound from somewhere deep in the dark forest behind you.
“Nope. Go for it,” you say, gulping.
Austin smirks again, sitting up and propping his arms onto his knees. While he thinks of a horror story to relay to you, your eyes travel up and down his frame. He’s wearing a pair of dark black jeans with holes in the knees and a blue flannel with a grey hood attached. The hood is pulled over his head, his blonde curls just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric. You clear your throat in the silence to snap yourself back to reality
“Alright. I got one. You ready?”
“Of course.”
“There was a woman named Kelly who worked as a forensic nurse in a hospital. She had an older patient, Maria, who swore she was being haunted and abused by a demon she called Tiberius. The nurses would leave Maria alone and when they returned later, they’d find her like she’d been in a fight with a boxer. She’d have bloody lips, black eyes, markings all over her body. Things in the room moved by themselves. Maria would cry at night, screaming for help that never came. The doctors had to put her into protective restraints. They thought she was hurting herself. Nothing changed. Maria was small and weak. There was no way she could have hurt herself while restrained. And she certainly couldn’t have moved furniture. Yet, every time the nurses came to see her, she was covered in bloody bruises and strange marks. And the furniture was not where it had been left. Whenever they asked Maria what was wrong, she just said ‘Tiberius is unhappy.’”
Another chill flows through your body and you pull your jacket and knees closer into your body. You can feel your heartbeat increasing as Austin tells the story, your anxiety rising with every word. You gulp down emotion and resist the urge to glance at the darkness next to you even though everything in your being is yelling at you to look. Just take a peek. Just a little one.
“One night, it was just Kelly, the forensic nurse. She was taking the night watch, checking on all the patients. She heard Maria screaming, as she often did, and made her way toward Maria’s room. When she tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. She pulled and yanked, but it wouldn’t open. She knocked on the door and yelled for Maria, who continued to scream and scream. When Kelly ordered Maria to open the door, it wasn’t Maria who responded. It was a deep, raspy voice that sounded like a thousand voices speaking at once. ‘Maria isn’t here,’ it said.’”
By the time Austin stops speaking, you feel like crying. You can only imagine how pathetic you look, staring at Austin with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids as you fight against your own mind. You know the story Austin told isn’t real but…but what if it was?
“Y/N, are you okay?” Austin asks, glancing over at you.
You want to assure him that you’re fine, just a little freaked out. But you can’t bring yourself to speak. You blink away tears and just freeze under Austin’s concerned gaze. He shifts, tilting his head to look at you better as he gently takes ahold of your shoulders.
“Are you okay, Y/N? Did I do too much? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like this,” he says quickly, his warm palm on your cheek suddenly jerking you into consciousness. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that…well it’s not true. The story I told is totally fake. I made it all up. You have nothing to worry about and nothing to be scared of. I’m here to protect you and I-”
You jerk forward, slamming your lips onto Austin’s. Your eyes close so that you can ignore the fear that rises into your chest when you look into the darkness. Somehow, the darkness of your own body feels less scary than any dim lighting the real world could offer right now. You kiss Austin harshly, desperately, searching for warmth and comfort in his lips. After a few seconds, you feel Austin pressing back against you. His hand curves around your cheek and the other intertwines into your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. You pull back and nervously open your eyes to glance at Austin. He’s smiling, goofily, down at you. His blue eyes are almost orange with the warm light of the fire glaring into them. He gently strokes your cheek and stares at you with caring eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know it would bother you so much. But…I’m not too unhappy with the result. I’m here to protect you. I’d kinda like to, actually.”
You giggle, feeling relief. As another unidentifiable noise sounds from the dark woods, you squeeze Austin’s hand absentmindedly.
“It’s okay,” you reply. “But let’s just go inside now where it’s safer and you can do all the protecting you want, Aus.”
He chuckles, holding onto your torso as you drag him inside the warmth of the cabin.
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Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!
**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)
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The Demon to Your Angel
Character/Fandom: Austin Butler
Requested: yes - anon!
Prompt: You're having the best time ever at the biggest Halloween party in the area. Until your best friend, the other half of your angel/demon costume, ditches you. Luckily, a mysterious and incredibly handsome demon comes to your rescue. This fic can be read with a GN reader but the costume does lean generally fem.
#7 NSFW: “I’ll be the demon to your angel.”
TW: A quick mention of death if you squint but that's it!
Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 2405
A/N: this is such a fun prompt, so i hope y'all enjoy this one!! 💕
🦋 mila
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“Y/N! Y/N! I need you.”
Your head jerks to attention as Carrie, your best friend and the other half of your costume, hops over to you with a massive smile plastered on her face. She takes ahold of your hands and pulls you around to face her straight on.
“What’s up, bestie?” you ask, sharing her excited expression even though you don't yet know what she's so enthusiastic about.
“I am so, so sorry about this, but I think I have to leave,” she explains and your smile quickly fades.
“Leave? What do you mean?”
“Okay, see that guy over there?” she asks and you follow her fingers which are gesturing toward a super tall and nicely built man standing in the corner. He’s dressed as a baseball player with tight pinstripe pants and a fake jersey and everything.
“What about him?”
“We’ve been hanging out all night and we've both totally been flirting. I can tell that he likes me. A lot. I think we’re gonna hook up but I have to be home by twelve, curfew you know, so I need to leave now if I wanna get him in,” she expands.
“Carrie! Are you serious? Do you even know him?”
“I mean technically not, but I know him well enough to know that I want him in my pants.”
“You’re seriously gonna leave me here alone to go sleep with some dude you just met?”
“No, but I really like him. Like really like him.”
“But you can’t go! You’re the other half of our costume. It’ll look stupid if you leave.”
“It won’t look stupid! Tons of people dress as sexy angels for Halloween,” your best friend squeezes your fingers and then points toward someone passing who is, in fact, also dressed as a sexy angel. “See, there’s one. Y/N, you know that I wouldn’t ask this unless I was really serious. Please?”
You sigh as you stare over into her big puppy dog eyes and pouty lower lip. Although you’ve already decided to let her go, you pretend to consider her offer for a few moments. You finally groan and then nod.
“Fine. But you’d better score an in-the-park home run with this one for what you’re putting me through,” you reply firmly.
Despite your unamused tone, a smile quickly spreads across your face. Carrie practically jumps into your arms, throwing her hands around your shoulders and pulling you close. She squeezes you painfully and you gently pat her back.
“Okay hurting me, hurting me,” you choke out and she pulls away with a laugh.
She winks and thanks you before zipping off to find the baseball player again. Before you know it, you’re standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room by yourself. You know a few people at the party but not nearly enough to make you feel comfortable. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wade through the crowd and find your way into the kitchen for a drink and some quiet time. As you pass, you scan the faces around you, trying desperately to find someone, anyone, you know or at least someone interesting to talk to. No such luck.
You walk into the bright kitchen, reaching for a red Solo cup to scoop yourself some of the spooky punch the host has mixed up. As you raise the spoon up from the punch bowl, your stomach turns at the nausea-inducing dark green liquid. A small placard in front of the bowl reads ‘Witch’s Brew’ and you place the spoon back inside.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” you mumble to yourself although there’s no one else in the kitchen to hear you.
You're leaning over to inspect the other drink options when a man’s voice startles you.
“Looking for something?”
Your head pops up to see a young man you’ve never met before. You don’t even think you’ve ever seen him before. He’s tall with long legs and a thin frame. His hair curls around the top of his head and a few strands flop lazily onto his forehead. You can tell that he's naturally blonde but the tips of some of the locks have been sprayed or dyed a deep, dark red. You find yourself startled again when your eyes meet his gaze. Yellow…his eyes are yellow?
As he takes a step closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, he has contacts on, which you assume are part of whatever costume he’s supposed to be wearing.
“Just something to drink that doesn’t look like regurgitated salad,” you say, gesturing toward the green liquid.
A handsome smirk crosses his features and you take that moment to admire the dramatic curve of his Cupid’s Bow and the strong, harsh angles of his jawline.
“There’s beers in the fridge,” he says, taking another step into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Thanks,” you reply but make no effort to move. You’re far more interested in drinking him in.
You take a moment to glance down at his costume, or whatever vague bits of it there are. Besides the contacts and red tips, he’s donning a bit of black eyeshadow around his eyes and eyeliner on his waterline. As for the costume itself, it’s extremely ambiguous: just a grey t-shirt with rips and tears in it, a pair of black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket over that with matching black combat boots. A belt is latched across his waist with a chain hanging loosely near his hipbone. He could be any number of things, a vampire, a biker, some kind of rockstar.
“So…what are you supposed to be?” you ask.
“What do you think I am?” he quips, that mischievous smirk returning.
You scoff and shake your head, leaning over the kitchen counter. You catch his eyes drifting down and taking inventory of your chest, which is quite visible to him now that your torso is bent in half over the counter.
“Hmm….smile, please,” you respond.
“What for?”
“I need to see your teeth to make a more educated conjecture.”
He shakes his head dismissively but smiles anyway, making sure that you can see his canines clearly. You hum to yourself when you don't notice any fangs or other tooth modifications glued or attached to his natural pearly whites.
“Not a vampire…are you some sort of possessed biker? A rockstar? A metal singer? A ghost?”
He chuckles, taking a few steps closer to you and mimicking your position over the counter.
“Not exactly.”
“Damn. Well then, I give up. What are you?”
He shrugs, tossing his hand with the fingers curled upward in a gesture that acts out exactly what he replies.
“Whatever you need me to be.”
You absentmindedly recoil just a tad, surprised by his answer. You can’t help the laugh that manages to slip out from between your lips.
“Okay, hot stuff,” you reply with a giggle. “Your timing is perfect, couldn't be better, actually. I could really use you. The other half of my costume kinda left already.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, she had a date with a baseball player.”
“I'm happy to be her replacement. But first, let me look at you so I can figure out what I need to become.”
“Do you…seriously not understand what I’m supposed to be?”
A fleeting moment of panic thumps your chest as you wonder if your costume has somehow been unclear the entire night. But your concern quickly fades when you glance down at your body-hugging white dress, white fishnet stockings, white boots, and matching white feathery wings.
“Oh, I know what you are. I just wanna get a better look at you. All of you,” he says and you find yourself lost for words.
Your heart begins to thump in your chest and you gulp as you stare across the kitchen at him. You can barely discern a hint of blue iris underneath the bright yellow contacts in his eyes. His gaze is so intense at the moment that you have a difficult time tearing yourself away from it. After a few seconds of strange, impulsive staring, you clear your throat and jerk yourself back to reality.
“Uh…sure thing,” you say, stepping out from behind the counter.
As you move into his full view, you nervously pull the hem of your dress down and adjust the headband pushed into your hair on which you hot-glued a sparkly halo made from a cheap boa. His gaze follows you as he takes you in. After a few minutes of silence, his eyes dragging painfully slowly up and down your figure, you finally speak up.
“So…what am I, then?”
“Angel. Which means I’m guessing the other half of your costume was a demon?”
“Yes, she was a demon.”
He pushes himself off the counter and approaches you. You feel your body stiffen as he steps closer to you. The heels of his boots echo quietly in the small room. He advances until he’s standing right in front of you, so close that you can just barely smell a hint of his musky cologne.
“Don’t worry,” he says, lifting a finger underneath your chin and tilting your face up to meet his. “I’ll be the demon to your angel.”
His thumb clamps onto your chin, holding your face hostage and your gaze firmly attached to his. You’re completely and utterly frozen under his touch. You don’t know what to do with yourself other than stare up at him. But you don’t get to do it for long because his grip tightens and he pulls your face up toward his. Your eyes widen at first and quickly flutter closed when his lips land on yours. You usually don’t kiss men you’ve just met but he’s so…so…
You find your body stepping closer to him, your fingers grasping onto the smooth fabric of his leather jacket and holding him close to you. His fingers release your chin and wind around your waist, pulling your stomach flush against his. Your lips separate with a satisfying pop as you pull back just long enough to look up at him.
“You’re like a dream…” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your lips. With your eyes still closed, you giggle breathily and smile.
“What kind of dream?”
“The best dream I’ve ever had. When I die, I hope I’m lucky enough to wake up and find you at the gates of heaven.”
“Oh my god,” you reply with another giggle. “That was seriously the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, heaven is supposed to be paradise, isn’t it?”
He smirks and readjusts so that his palm is cupping your cheek while the other grips your hip. You let your hands slide up his chest and tangle onto his neck and hair as he leans down for another kiss. You feel him starting to walk you back and unintentionally yelp into the kiss when your back hits the cool steel of the refrigerator. His strong, lean body pushes onto your frame. Your fingers tug at his hair, winding around the soft curls and clawing through the crusty parts with the colored hair spray. His hand falls to your hip and onto your thigh, gripping the exposed skin and-
“Uh..hey where’s the beer?”
The mysterious man releases you and steps back, flustered and startled. When he’s out of the way, your eyes land on a random party guest dressed as a minion with yellow body paint and blue overalls. You hastily readjust your dress and the headband again before pulling the straps of the wings back onto your shoulders.
“Uh, yeah, in there, man,” your demon counterpart responds, gesturing toward the fridge.
You quickly step out of the way as all of the heat in your body floods into your face, neck, and ears. The minion steps up to the fridge and pulls out a handful of beers. Meanwhile, you tuck your hands behind your tailbone and lean against the counter, avoiding the eyes of the two men in the room while you try to get a handle on the embarrassment you're experiencing. Several awkward silent moments pass as the man shuts the fridge and returns to the party. When he’s gone, you finally dare to make eye contact with your newfound demon partner.
“Well that was awkward,” you say nervously with a fake laugh.
He just shrugs. Your mind flashes back to the minion costume and your eyes refocus on his low-effort costume again.
“Hey, what are you actually supposed to be, anyway?” you ask. “You obviously wore some kind of costume cause I can see your makeup and contacts.”
“Oh, I'm not anything,” he says with a shrug. “I didn’t dress as anything specific, but I didn’t wanna get called out for not being in costume. I had my sister slap this makeup on me to make me look just spooky enough so that people wouldn’t question it.”
You step up to the kitchen counter, resuming the same leaning position that you’d been in earlier. He mimics you once again.
“So…you just came as some normal dude with makeup? Why the contacts, though? People who don’t care about their costumes don’t just decide to wear contacts for fun.”
“I just thought they made me look cooler. Don’t you?”
He throws a couple of finger guns your way and you laugh.
“You aren’t wrong. They do make you look very, very cool,” you agree with a nod.
“Plus I had to look my best,” he says, readjusting his jacket and straightening himself up. He holds out his elbow for you to take. “Meeting an angel as dreamy and beautiful as you warrants a demon’s very best attire. May I have the pleasure of escorting my angel home tonight?”
You giggle and curtsey before linking your arm in his. You make your way back through the living room, where most of the party is. He helps you remove your angel wings and shrug on your coat. As you exit the party and start on the walk home, he carries your wings in one hand and intertwines his fingers into your other hand. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks up.
“What should I call you, my angel?” he asks, shooting you a grin.
You’d forgotten that neither of you knew the other’s name. You’d both gotten so caught up in the chaos and desperation of your attraction that you hadn’t even introduced yourselves to each other.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeats quietly. “I’m Austin.”
“Austin the demon,” you say through a giggle. “And I always thought demons were supposed to be scary.”
“How do you think we get all the souls? Not by being scary. By being sexy,” he replies and you laugh again.
“Be sexy, not scary,” you repeat, holding your hands up as if you’re admiring a billboard. “I like it.”
“I like you,” he responds without missing a beat.
“I like you too, Austin.”
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**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)
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To All Things Spooky
ty ty ty to @fangirl-imagines (Kenzie) for this BEAUTIFUL moodboard 🥰 i hope it sets the mood for cozy adam!!
Character/Fandom: Adam Dunn
Requested: yes 💚
Prompt: #20 Scenarios - Watching a not scary Halloween movie
TW: None!!
Rating: Pg || Word Count: 1570
A/N: this is a very special halloween surprise for my besties Kenzie, Gabby @dontbesussis, Shawni @austin-butlers-gf, and Sagey @sagesolsticewrites 💚 i love y'all forever and enjoy a spooky dadam dunn fic 🥰
also i had the idea that adam would call you Roo (like kangaroo) as a nickname and now im 😭
🦋 mila
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“Adam, I’m home!” you shout into the hallway as you shrug off your coat and put aside your keys.
The clink of the keys hitting the glass bowl on the table echoes throughout the house without a response. You pause, listening to the silence to see where your husband might be. Hearing nothing, you step foot into the kitchen to get further into the house. As you walk quietly through the kitchen, trying to minimize the clicking of your heels on the hardwood floor, you start to pick up on some rummaging from the direction of the living room.
“For fuck’s sake,” you hear a mutter and can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face at the sound of your husband’s voice.
You round the corner between the kitchen and living room, your breath catching in your throat when you see the space. Adam’s decorated the entire area in the best, spookiest Halloween decor you’ve ever seen. He’s strung LED lights from the ceiling, which are glowing a warm, soothing orange. There’s a skeleton sitting on the settee in the corner wearing overalls and a cowboy hat, a cauldron positioned on the mantle with real smoke bubbling out of the top, fake cobwebs strung across the ceiling corners and the edges of the furniture, and a carved pumpkin in the corner with two eyes and a jagged mouth which are illuminated thanks to a flickering candle inside the pumpkin. As your eyes drop down to the coffee table, you see a spread of cheeses, meats, chocolates, and fruits. All of your favorite snacks, arranged in the most beautiful charcuterie creation you’ve ever seen. Two glasses of wine rest on the table, already full and ready to be enjoyed. For the finishing touch, candles are gently glowing around the room, flooding the space with notes of warm cinnamon and apple.
“Y/N! Shit,” Adam’s voice snaps your attention over to his figure. He’s dressed in his best fall outfit, with a pair of dark blue jeans and a red flannel that hugs his body perfectly. His beard is nicely trimmed and hair is brushed back. You bite your lip in happiness. “Oh, I’m sorry, lovely, you weren’t supposed to see this until it was ready.”
You chuckle at the disappointment on his face and gesture to the room.
“Adam, this is amazing!” you say, admiring it one more time. “The decorations! I love them so much and this food! I can’t even believe it. How long have you been planning this?”
“Since last year,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry it’s not quite finished, but I got started a bit later than planned.”
You hold your hands out for him to take, wiggling your fingers to tell him what you want. He immediately takes a step forward and slides his warm fingers into yours. You pull him closer to you, resting your hands on his chest and inhaling the spice of his familiar cologne.
“It’s perfect, Adam. I couldn’t have asked for more,” you reply, raising yourself up on your tiptoes to press your lips to your husband’s.
His arms wind around your waist, pulling you against him and holding you tightly. His hands spread across your back, taking up most of the area there. You smile into his soft lips, loving the way his beard scratches your chin and tickles the top of your upper lip. You pull back regretfully and let your eyes drowsily reopen to see Adam gazing down at you with his sparkling brown doe eyes.
“Well, I hope you’re ready for more,” he says, smiling goofily as he leans over to swipe the tv remote from the mantle of the fireplace. “Because I have one more surprise.”
He clicks on the tv and you watch as the pixels light up to show you the movie he’s queued up. Your favorite. Hocus Pocus.
“Oh Adam…” you breathe out, clamping your lips together to keep from crying. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get more perfect.”
You kiss his bearded cheek before pulling away and unzipping your boots to plop down on the couch across from the tv. Now that your attention is directed at the food below you, you feel your mouth salivating with excitement. Adam hits play on the movie and takes his usual seat next to you on the couch.
“A toast?” you raise your wine glass and Adam follows suit, tilting his head again to smile at you.
It’s a small thing, but he reminds you so much of a puppy when he does that. When he gazes at you with that little endearing head tilt, like you’re his entire world, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, the only thing worth looking at.
“To all things spooky and to us, forever and always,” you say, clinking your glass against Adam’s.
“And to all the virgins who’re gonna light candles they shouldn’t tonight,” Adam squeezes in before clinking your glass again and taking a swig of his wine.
You giggle.
“Not a problem for us, I guess,” you say, raising your eyebrows.
“Definitely not. Happily not.”
You reach for a paper plate and load it up with your favorite items on the board before leaning back to enjoy the movie. You nestle into Adam’s armpit, absorbing as much of his warmth as possible. He drapes his arm over you as he snacks on his own plate while the movie starts. You watch in silence for the first twenty minutes or so while you both fill up with delicious food and wine. You realize that you might have maybe overdone it a little more than necessary on the drinking side when you start to feel a little buzzed before Max even lights the black flame candle.
You lean forward to reach for your glass and accidentally knock it over. A gasp rises to your throat but before it can escape and before the wine can spill all over the carpet, Adam deftly catches it and places it back onto the table. You glance over at him, blinking through a bit of drunk stupor.
“You’re amazing,” you say with a giggle. “How did you do that?”
“Spidey senses,” he responds, wiggling his fingers.
You laugh and nestle back into him, resting your head on his chest. His hand absentmindedly finds your hair and gently strokes through your locks, tickling the edge of your ear and the rest of your skin. You smile as you feel him press his lips softly to the top of your head. The way you fit perfectly into the crook of Adam’s arm, his intoxicating cologne floods into your nostrils, and his warmth absorbs into your skin finds you yawning repeatedly by the time Winnifred is singing at the Halloween party in the high school. You jerk awake after nodding off.
You lean your head up and allow Adam to kiss you softly, sweetly, passionately. His hand curls around the back of your head and neck, holding you against him. His plump lips are warm and maybe a bit swollen from all the wine and body heat. They slide perfectly around your own lips and pull against them firmly. When you separate, you hum contentedly.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Adam says gruffly, his late night voice beginning to come out. It grumbles through his chest and you sigh contentedly at the satisfying feeling of the vibrations through his chest.
“Hi, prince charming. Although it’s hardly morning,” you quip.
“Nah see that’s the best news,” he gestures toward the tv. “It is morning and the witches’re frying.”
“Oh damn, I slept that long?” you ask, your attention jerked toward the tv. You sit up and stick your bottom lip out to pout. “Awww, I missed the whole movie. All the good parts!”
Adam’s already staring to turn the tv off and gather up your strewn belongings from around the living room.
“No!! We have to rewind!”
“Relax, darling,” Adam says, holding his hands out. “We can rewatch it a different night. But for now, we need to get you into bed.”
“No,” you say. “I remember I fell asleep after Winnifred sang at the party. We can just rewind-”
You can’t even finish your sentence without yawning, betraying how tired you really are to both you and Adam. Adam raises his eyebrows with a knowing look and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You sigh, pouting again.
“Come on, lovely,” he says, holding his strong arms around for you. You hop up and curl your legs around his waist, letting him carry you like a baby up to your bedroom. “Let’s get you to sleep. I’ll clean everything up.”
He lays you down on the bed, pulling the covers up toward your chin and leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls away but your fingers catch his.
“No, clean it up tomorrow. I want to fall asleep next to my husband,” you say, yanking him back toward the bed.
Although you can’t see him in the dark, you hear him chuckle and feel him climb into bed next to you. He wraps his strong arms around your stomach and pulls you back into him, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sighing happily.
“Goodnight Adam. I love you,” you whisper into the darkness.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N. I love you too, Roo. Happy Halloween.”
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