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cowboyellies · 1 year ago

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- Bad Habit | e.w.

were you not not too good for me, my dear?

funny you comeback to me my dear

PART TWO OF "You're Not Good enough"

pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader

warnings/themes: angst!!!, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight mention of ellie's past trauma, lots of jealousy, small amount of abby x reader (sorry abby), reader is kind of stupid (just like me fr), slight mentions of violence, small amount of smut (just a heavy make out)

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: you finally end things with ellie and months later you couldn't feel any better. ellie on the other hand is losing her mind without you. when she sees you at a club one night on a date with another girl, she's determined to get you back no matter what cost.

a/n: I didn't originally plan on making a part two but a few people asked so here it is! I hope you enjoy (below I'm tagging everyone who asked for a part 2)

🏷 🏷 🏷: @shortcake22341 @harrysslutsstuff @robinismywifee @gizzzi

you and ellie hooked up three more times before you finally called it quits. for real this time. seriously. you blocked her on all platforms and even started avoiding spaces you knew you would see her at.

the final straw this time for you was the fact that the third time you were hooking up she got a text from another girl during, and she answered it. once she finished sending her text back she rolled over to resume eating you out but you were already grabbing your shit and bolting for the door. that wasn’t the first time ellie williams had humiliated you but you made a promise to yourself that it would be the last.

now it was two months later, the longest you’d gone without seeing her in about a year. you no longer thought of her, for the most part. there were times where you longed to unblock her number and go crawling back. but you didn’t. you finally felt actually single for the first time in forever and it was exhilarating. you now could do whatever you wanted, hook up with whoever you wanted without feeling the weird guilt and shame ellie left you with every time you’d walk out of her apartment. and now that your spring term had ended you were most certainly using this freedom to your advantage.

ellie on the other hand was losing her shit. the night she fucked up again was actually a misunderstanding this time. yes, she did receive a text to hook up while you were fucking each other. and yes she did answer it. but it was only to tell the girl to fuck off. she tried to explain that to you but you had already slammed the door in her face before she could get the words out.

she had tried everything she could think of how to get you to talk to her, even stooping so low as to show up at your door, begging for you to open up. this actually might have worked on you if she hadn’t gotten your apartment number wrong. you two spent most of your time together at her place so she ended up scaring the living shit out of your elderly neighbor mrs. flenderson when she showed up knocking on her door at one a.m. drunk.

now all she could do was sit alone with her feelings which she hated. she hated knowing she cared about you and all this time apart was just giving her more time to think about it, so much so she even began fantasizing how she would confess her feelings for you. she drafted long speeches in her head for different ways she’d make you hear her out.

when the opportunity to actually confess arrives, things don’t go as smoothly as they do in her imagined scenarios.

the night you two finally see each other again you happen to be on a second date. the first second date you’ve been on since you started seeing people again. you had become accustomed to your one night stands but something about this girl drew you in. abby and you had met through a mutual friend and you actually got along really well. she’s funny, kind, doesn’t seem to share the same emotional incapabilities as your exes, and she’s pretty fucking hot.

your night starts out amazing, she brings you to a club where she happens to know the owner, getting you past the entrance right away and straight to the bar, where she showers you in free drinks and many, many compliments. you flirt and laugh and blush like you haven’t in a while and you realize what you really want to do is dance. as you’re on your way to the floor, that's when you see her.

ellie’s at the entrance of the club with her two friends you vaguely know, dina and jesse. you stare at her for a few moments, taking in the features you had tried so desperately to brush from your memory. her auburn hair is shorter and you can tell from the rolled up sleeves of her black button up that she got more detailing done on her tattoo. her head starts to turn towards your direction so you suddenly switch positions with abby, moving so if ellie looks your way she’d only see your back.

“is everything okay?” abby asks, leaning down towards your ear so you could hear her over the loud music. you nod and try to continue dancing as if nothing is bothering you, which is hard to do considering that you suddenly feel the urge to vomit. abby doesn’t seem convinced so she pulls you off to the side of the dance floor, luckily away from where ellie had gone to sit with her friends. “are you sure you’re alright, you look a little green,”

“yeah I’m fine!!” you insist, trying not to give ellie the power to ruin your night like you’d done many times before. “I think I’m just a little lightheaded,” you say, hoping it’ll make her drop it.

“oh shit, let's go to the bar and get you some water,” she replies, frowning in concern, grabbing your hand to lead you back there.

“no!” you suddenly shout, knowing that’s where ellie’s sitting. “no um- I just really like this part of the club! do you think you could just bring some for me over here?” you ask, even though the “area of the club” you’re referencing is just a dark corner near the bathroom next to a trashcan.

abby looks at you questionably but eventually turns and does what you ask, probably figuring you definitely need it now. once she’s gone you start plotting how you can make your escape from here without ellie seeing, hopefully not further ruining your date. you know you’re being immature and that grown ups don’t hide in corners from their exes, but you’re pretty tipsy and you never claimed to be a grown up.

a minute after abby leaves you see dina and jesse make their way to the dance floor. before you can even think to conceal yourself, dina makes eye contact with you and you notice her eyes widen in recognition, which makes you realize ellie had definitely told her something about your breakup. while that made you go into further panic it also made you pause. when you first met dina it was when you and ellie had run into her at a coffee shop the morning after one of your sleepovers. ellie had introduced you to her as “a friend” even though you’d been hooking up for four months at that point. if ellie had gone from that to now confiding in dina about your messy break, it made you think about how much your split had actually affected her.

as you see dina move to go and tell ellie about you lurking in the shadows, abby starts to walk back in your direction, glass of water in hand. now you’re screwed. there’s no way you can convince abby to leave before ellie comes to find you.

while you’re being overcome with sudden doom, ellie from the other side of the room feels her heartbeat pick up in a way it hasn’t in months. as soon as dina had muttered your name she jolted out of her seat. now as she makes her way over to you, confident to win you back, she notices something dina hadn’t mentioned, her.

abby stands next to you brushing a hair behind your ear, gently stroking your shoulder as you down the glass of water she brought you. ellie feels a sudden rage flow through her whole body. just when she thinks she’s getting you back she sees you with another girl. this is different than with the couch girl from the party who was just gonna be a random fuck, she can tell from your body language you’re already getting comfortable with her beyond that. she stops suddenly a few feet in front of you, causing you to choke a little on your water.

as you’re now standing face to face with ellie you notice that familiar jealousy plastered all over her face. as much as you know you have nothing to be guilty about, you can’t help but start to sweat a little as she resembles the look of a rageful girlfriend. you realize that’s exactly what abby might think she is as you look up to see her shocked expression. just as you’re about to explain, ellie beats you to it.

“can I talk to you?” she asks, more of a command than an actual question.

“no!” you shout back over the music, hoping that will send her away but knowing from past experience it won’t.

“who is thi-” abby starts before she’s cut off

“I’m ellie. who the fuck are you?” she yells, turning her direct attention to abby for the first time.

“her date, who the fuck are you? are you two-”

“NO!” you yell, wishing you had opted for the dinner and a movie date you previously discussed. “let’s just go!” you yell, at this point you weren’t even focused on salvaging your date but instead on getting the fuck out of there.

“I need to fucking talk to you please,” ellie begs stepping in front of you, this is different than the last time at the party, you’ve never heard her voice sound so desperate.

“she said no, back the fuck up,” abby shouts, pushing ellie a little on her shoulder. before you can say anything, that small little push turns into ellie flinging her fist into abby’s jaw. you knew she had a temper but have never seen her actually fight someone until now. the two of them begin full on fighting and instead of doing the honorable thing and trying to pull them off of each other, you simply leave. you know doing this pretty much guarantees no third date with abby but you can’t really find it in yourself to care. you’re so over with this night and the constant shit show that is your love life so you find yourself just exiting the club.

they don’t notice you’re gone until a few minutes after, around the same time the security begins showing up to pull the two of them apart. before they can restrain ellie she makes a break for it, bolting after you towards the door.

she finds you a few blocks away sitting on the curb waiting for an uber. you notice her shadow looming over you and you turn your head up to face her, groaning once you see her bruised face.

“ellie you’ve done enough, can you just please leave me alone,” you plead, the weight of the night’s events finally starting to hit you, making you feel exhausted.

“i’m sorry, I can’t,” she replies, lowering her body to the curb next to you. you look at her confused for a few moments, realizing that’s the first time you’ve ever heard her use the words “I’m sorry”

“why?” your voice cracks and your eyes starting to brim with tears on impulse. you aren’t sure exactly why you’re crying but it’s making you feel small and stupid.

“you know why,” she replies, unable to give anymore. after all this time she spent building speeches, she still found herself scared to say the actual words.

“no, I don’t ellie. I have no idea why you treat me like this,” you reply, the tears beginning to spill on your cheeks. “I don’t know why you act as if you don’t give a shit about me but still can’t let me go, you never fucking tell me why,”

her heart is racing now. she knows if she doesn’t say the right thing she’ll lose you for real. this is the last moment she can avoid her feelings or she’ll crush yours once and for all.

“It’s because I-” she starts at barely a whisper, her eyes beginning to water. “its because I fucking care about you!” now she’s almost yelling, the words escaping her mouth like a sob. “and I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it fucking terrifies me,” you look down at her hands and notice they’re shaking. you want so badly to hold her but a part of you stays restrained, knowing after everything she’s put you through you can’t just grant her forgiveness that easily.

“you don’t think I’m terrified too? ellie it took me a long time to get over my ex and you know that. but I didn’t dump you on your fucking ass the second I started to get feelings for you. and I certainly didn’t text another girl in the middle of us fucking!” the memory of that night starts to overcome your sympathy for her, replacing it with anger instead

“I texted her back to tell her not to message me again, and I tried to explain that to you and you wouldn’t let me. I know i fucked up and had shitty timing but you have to believe that I would never hurt you like that,” she was fully pleading now. you had never seen her so much as shed a tear and now here she is baring her soul.

“ellie, you know I want to trust that but why should I? you’ve done nothing but give me reasons to believe otherwise,” you’re sobbing now too, your face turned towards the pavement in front of you watching your tears drip on the floor. you feel her fingers gently pull your chin upwards to look at her again, you notice a complete sense of somberness in her eyes now, this could possibly be the last thing she’d ever say to you.

“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me but you have to know that I…” she pauses for a moment to collect herself. the three words on the tip of her tongue were something she hadn’t said out loud in over five years. “I love you. okay? and I know I have a shitty way of showing it but I do,”

out of everything she could have said to you that was the last thing you were expecting. you had known for a while that ellie had rejected that feeling because of something that had happened in her childhood which she never could fully tell you about, and you weren’t sure if she was even capable of it anymore. it’s at that moment where you know for certain she’s not just saying all this to get you in her bed.

you’re truly looking at her now, the two of you facing each other with tearfilled eyes not able to say anything. this is when ellie finally breaks out the material in her fantasy speeches. “I love how you look when you’re sleeping, you get this cute half smile on your face when you’re having a good dream. and I love how obsessed you are with pickles, even though you refuse to eat a cucumber which I have explained to you many times is what pickles are made out of-”

“they’re not the same and you know it,” you interrupt through your tears. you had always wanted a big love confession like the one she was giving you, filled with specific facts and details, you said so while watching when harry met sally after one of your first hookups, you were shocked she remembered.

“I love how you never let me finish my sentences,” she replies with a smirk, her cockiness beginning to return after the intense few minutes of vulnerability. “I love how you do that thing with your lips when you’re cum-”

“okay you’re done now,” you stop her, a blush beginning to take over your face. you were starting to forget that at the beginning of the night you hated her guts and were likely going home with another woman.

“are you sure? I have a lot more,” she teases, you know the rest are all sexual. you realize after a moment of silence you never told her you love her back, and you realize you aren’t sure if you even do. obviously you still have strong feelings for her, otherwise you’d have already stormed away from her by now.

as you’re about to say something to break the silence the uber you’d ordered earlier appears in front of you. you look up at her and contemplate what it’ll mean to invite her in with you. is it still stupid to fuck her after one night of seeing her again? does the fact that she loves you make a difference in that?

you aren’t really sure and you don’t care. you pull her yourself up from the curb, dragging her along with you towards the backseat of the car.

–

after a tense fifteen minute uber ride which consisted of the two of you trying your absolute best to keep your hands to yourself and spare the sweet little old man driver, you finally arrive at your apartment. you’re now the one dragging her towards the elevator, recreating the same passionate makeout against the metal walls as the time after she cornered you at the party. the only difference being the fact that now you were no longer shoving down feelings of regret and shame.

after you exit the elevator and you’re opening your apartment door you hear her laugh at the unit behind you, mrs. flenderson’s apartment.

“oh my god ellie, stop,” you whisper shout at her, remembering the fear in the little old lady's voice as she told you about ellie’s drunken escapade. “she has heart problems, you could have killed her!”

you feel her arms reach over your sides, gently resting on your stomach as she begins to lean into your neck “are you jealous thinking about me confessing my feelings for another woman?” she teases, the embrace making it harder for you to open your door.

“no ellie, the thought of you trying to seduce my 78 year old neighbor does not make me jealous,” you reply with an eye roll, finally managing to open the lock. as soon as the two of you are inside she’s pushing you up against the door, her lips trailing all over your body, desperate to show you how much she meant what she said earlier.

“you have no idea-” she says in between kisses. “how hard it was-” she’s gripping gently at your hair now, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking you in fully for the first time in months. “to see you dancing like that with someone else,” you think about what she’s saying for a moment, the memory of abby making you trail your fingers down a bruise she had left on ellie’s cheekbone. you realize then that you could find it in yourself to forgive ellie for using you, because that’s exactly what you inadvertently had done to abby.

you pull her towards you by the jaw, her ear just centimeters away from your lips as you whisper “good.” you figured if you had accidentally used someone to make her jealous there's no harm in using that to your advantage now. you see ellie’s jaw tighten a little and her lips are back on yours in seconds, this time harsher than before.

you make your way to your bedroom, her hands on you the entire time as you’re leading her there. when you reach the bottom of your bed you begin to sit but you feel her pull you up, her hungry hands clinging to the fabric of your dress around your thighs.

“look at this pretty little dress,” she mumbles while running her hands up towards your breasts, the skin tight fabric clinging to you in all the right places. “you got all dressed up just for her,”

you roll your eyes at her jealousy but deep down the pool of heat in your core was growing stronger. she responds to your eye roll by yanking the dress down your arms. she then makes her way to the clasps on your bra, unhooking it and throwing it to your floor. she begins kissing you again, starting at your neck and trailing down towards your breasts, a moan escaping you as her mouth met your nipples. instinctively your hand grasp onto her hair, clinging to the roots as she laps at your skin. your grip on her hair tightens as your pleasure increases when she stops suddenly. “could abby’s tongue make you feel that good baby?”

you’re about to reply when she breaks away from your skin, now firmly pushing you towards your mattress. as you lie back she begins to take off your dress completely, staring down at you cravingly. unable to stand the lack of her lips on you, you’re suddenly sitting up and pulling her down towards you, gripping at the fabric of her shirt as her lips are crashing down on yours.

“somebody’s eager,” she teases, smiling in between kisses. as you’re making out you begin to feel her remove your hands from her neck and pinning them to the bed above you. you lean up towards her to continue your kissing when she pulls back, the sudden lack of contact causing you to let out a small pathetic whimper. she laughs at you and begins to take you in. her eyes linger over your mussed hair and pink lips that are wet from her kisses. “you’re so fucking beautiful,”

this comment catches you off guard. ellie had never said anything like that to you before. yes, she complimented frequently while you were together calling hot and gorgeous especially when you were on top of her, but this was different. this was more intimate. you smile brightly beneath her and use all your strength to lift yourself by your elbows to deliver one frenzied kiss onto her lips, plopping your head back down on the bed afterwards.

you realize then that the hot jealousy filled sex you two were headed towards had begun to change. all thoughts of abby, of any of your collective exes, or anyone else in the world for that matter have disappeared. this is about you and her.

she resumes kissing you, this time gentler, and you think back to the last time you had slept together. after your breakup every time you fucked was more feverish than the last. that sex was a dirty little mistake you couldn’t stop making, and you made sure to make it as quick and emotionless as possible. now as she’s on top of you, slowly stroking your hair as she moves her lips across your neck you are overcome with a sense of closeness for her that you had been trying to repress since the night she broke your heart on her dingy old couch.

“ellie,” you whisper, her mouth slowly detaching from your skin as she adjusts herself to look at you.

“yeah?” she asks, moving a chunk of hair near your face behind your ear.

“I love you too”

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loycos · 4 days ago

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what did you make of the scene where caitlyn hits vi ? the timing of the blow was so unexpected to me…she was kinda steadying herself and then WHAM. What was going through her head ? Was she making some kind of decision ? Mind still reeling that she chose (?) to gut punch Vi to signal the end of their relationship.

well, i dont exactly know what made her make this decision. it looks like a momentary lashout based on rage. i think her rage comes from a place of betrayal, so she wants to make vi as hurt as that betrayal feels.

i actually think the "misunderstanding" thats happening here is very well written. clearly we as the audience see that caitlyn is becoming more and more unhinged. vi sees it as well. caitlyn might have missed the shot and killed a kid- her composure at that moment was very much shaken. most people, given this scenario, would choose to opt out. so to us, caitlyn being so insistent feels callous and irretional. which, it is. but lets look at it from caitlyn's perspective.

so, caitlyn feels a lot of guilt about the fact she didnt shoot jinx back at the dinner table. its very well established. she mainly blames herself, but i think a small subconscious part of her also blames vi- vi is the one who got her to hesitate, after all. the fact that she "messed up" last time and that caused so much grief and pain not only to herself, but to the 2 cities, makes her EXTREMELY determined to NEVER make that mistake again.

vi told caitlyn to not bring back up, so basically, theyre each other's only support. caitlyn agreed, that means that to her she put 100% of her trust in vi to help here and to have her back. vi told her, my sister is gone. when u have the chance, take the shot. caitlyn is convinced theyre on the same page here. so when vi turns on her, shes in utter disbelief, and she starts questioning whenever vi ever had HER best interest in mind.

thats why i think caitlyn is so obsessed with bringing up the idea of who's "side" vi is on. you could read it as "piltover vs zaun" but i think what she means is "me vs jinx". at the dinner party caitlyn didnt shoot because of vi, and she wonders whether or not the girl she sacrificed everything for would do the same for her.

and at that moment, after she missed her shots, again, because of vi, she comes to the realization that vi would never choose her over jinx. and she flips out.

now. thats how CAITLYN sees it, im pretty sure. we know there are other things at play that have affected vi's decision, and that caitlyn currently is not seeing the bigger picture. but that's what i think she felt that drew this severe of a reaction from her.

#maybe vi will choose u in the end caitlyn #but for now vi remains as uncertain as ever #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane #asks #caitlyn kiramman #and no i dont believe caitlyn believes vi that its about the kid #she thinks its a smoke screen

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cherubfae · 15 days ago

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𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫, 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶 {𝔩𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔡𝔶}

Happy Halloween, my loves! And a blessed Samhain to my fellow pagans! Please have a safe and lovely holiday no matter what you do or don't celebrate! Now then, care to spend some time with Mr. Kennedy? Please, mind the tags! Thank you!! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

|| 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐅𝐀𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ||

tags: ghostface!RE4!Leon, fem!reader, masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, fear/domination roleplay, consensual, fake home invasion scenario, Leon is kinda mean, dirty talk, pet names, breeding kink, perverted call trope, killer x victim trope, consensual dubcon (just in case), predator/prey dynamics, dumbification, dacryphilia, aftercare

"Bend over, sugar. I wanna see that pretty little pussy." The modified voice growled with a fiery hunger. The stranger's words made you wet soooo easily. You shift forward, hiking up your skirt and wiggle your ass in the direction of your window. He growled with pleasure, breathing trembling. Faint slick noises echo from the mysterious caller's line. Was he...?

"Yeah.. Fuck.. Look at that cunt. You're so sweet, doll. Your panties barely cover your pretty lil' pussy lips... Just beggin' for a fat, thick cock inside ya, huh?" The man snarled. "Say it. I wanna hear my pretty prey beg me to fuck her."

Heat rises to your cheeks, your teeth worrying at your lip. "P-please, mister... Please, come fuck me. I wanna feel you stretch me open."

"Fuckkkkkk..." He drew out the word with a deep, breathy growl. You could practically feel his breath tremble through the receiver. Curiously, you seem to find yourself grinning at the conversation. Hell. You were enjoying it. You liked the idea of this stranger jerking off to you. You wanted to be used by him. Defiled.

The old floorboards creaked behind you. "Don't mind if I fuckin' do, dollface."

You quickly turn with wide eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden imposing male in your living room. The rubber mask he wore was shrouded in black, like a hood, the face was stretched in a ghoulish, eternal scream. The empty black eyes were soulless and terrifyingly hot. Through the thin silver of mesh that covered the eyeholes, you could barely make out stormy ocean eyes; the pupils large and black.

The rest of his attire wasn't too impressive, but his stature was. Broad shoulders and muscular arms stretched the polyester inky robe taut, well defined pectorals and, fuck, even his abdomen was perfectly sculpted. Every hard angle of him outlined against the slightly shimmery fabric like tiny silver stars splashed onto a pitch black night sky.

"Fuck, you look even sweeter in person." His head cocks to the side, huffing deeply through the mask. He lowered his face to you, the mask cool against your heated skin. "Looks like I caught myself a willing pup."

Heavy, wet smacks of the masked stranger's swollen balls thudding against your ass rings round and round in your ears. Tears drip down your cheeks, your thighs burning under the strain of having them tucked to your chest for so long. You vaguely hear him chuckle cruelly, his large hand keeping you pinned to the coffee table--which had been nearest surface.

"Fuck, look at ya, doll. You're not gonna be able to see just how I wide I'm stretchin' ya if you cry too much... Not that I mind one fuckin' bit. You're the real Halloween treat, aintcha? Sweeter than any candy." He pressed his mask face against your heated cheeks, the rubber cool on your skin.

You're almost painfully lying at an angle against the low wooden table, unable to think of anything but his impossibly thick cock pistoning in and out of your wet channel. You've gone numb to your own lewd noises, you crying, your moans, the wet squelch of your pussy. Faintly, you can hear the wood creak and groan beneath the added weight.

Slowly, your eyes lift to the stranger, your mind clouded with a dense fog, slowly dragging them down the muscular outline of his shoulders and torso, to where he'd yanked up the hem of his robe and bared the slightly tanned, taut muscular skin of his stomach and his neatly trimmed pubic mound; the girth of his flushed cock a centerpiece in the course curls of ashen blond hair.

The stranger's muscles flex tightly, too enraptured in his own movements to notice your stare. The hazy, lustful admiration you send his way. He'd pulled his cock free from his pants. Of average length, beautifully flushed, and already glistening with pre. His cock was deliciously thick and heavy. Like it weighed him down. Like it hurt to be gifted such a perfect cock.

He fits inside of you so well. It's overwhelming in the most pleasing of ways, how he seemed to be able to stroke places inside of you that you'd never seemed to reach. The second he slipped inside, you knew you were a goner.

Sound rushes back and crashes into you like a tidal wave, like you'd been plugged back in. Your moans and sobs bounce off the walls of your living room. The stranger's laugh resounds in your ears, pulling you out of your own mind for a second.

"Pftt.. You even moan like a little slut, don't you? Hear now needy this puffy pussy is for me? Pathetic, princess, really... If I had been any other killer, would you have put out for them as easily as you did for me? No?" He mocked the last word, breath coming out in deep, shuddering pants. "Tell me why I don't believe you, princess."

Swallowing thickly, you arch upwards into him, loosely rolling your hips to meet his pounding thrusts. "No one... No one makes me feel this good, Mr. Ghostface, sir..."

"Ghostface?" The stranger cooed, full of faux sweetness. "Oh, I like that. I think I'll use that for the next pretty kitty I spray against the walls. Why the long face? Nothin' to get upset about. This is the only cunt I am interested in." He bowed over your body, hips snapping with visceral force.

You grunt, eyes closing as his cock repeatedly nudges at your cervix. "Everyone else is swine as far as I'm concerned. But you, sugar, you're the real fuckin' deal. Gonna make me marry you, huh? Is that it? Gonna make a filthy fuckin' killer marry you because of you and your sweet pussy?"

Everything was starting to feel a bit too much. He was hitting a bit too deep, talking a bit too much, and your mind was spinning like a top, way too fast, and about to topple over.

A pained whine leaves your lips faster than you realize and you feel the man above you stutter, his movements stilling for a second as he looks down at you; deep blue eyes more visible in the soft glow of the table lamp. His facade was slipping, little by little.

He's waiting, you realize, waiting silently for you to give him the go ahead. Asking a million questions with just one look at his crystalline eyes. You nod your head, feeling a bit like jelly with how numb your legs have gotten.

"Words." His tone brooked no argument. Swallowing thickly, you shift up the table a little. Your bare, sweaty skin squeaking against the polished wood.

Managing a soft, reassuring smile, you nod again. "You can move, Leon. I'm okay."

With a fierce growl, Leon yanked off the mask, his hair sweaty and disheveled, and scooped you up and off the table, carrying you through the hall towards your bedroom. The mask lay forgotten on the sofa cushions.

Curling into his embrace, you softly nuzzle him noting how your roles were most definitely forgotten by this point. Leon wasn't fond of accidentally hurting and even in roleplay, he would never do so intentionally.

"M'not gonna risk that again." Your boyfriend grumbled, tucking your head under his chin. "We're gonna do something different, baby."

"Okay, honey." You nuzzle him, sweetly. He looked down at you with a slight smile, his eyes visibly softening and pupils slowly widened. "I really was okay though."

"I know. But that was more than enough for me." Leon grunted next to your ear and splayed his warm palm across your back. Your delicious cunt is still snuggled tight around his thick length, every jostle sinking you down deeper.

Kicking the bedroom door open, his heavy stomping echoes as he hurls his boots off of his feet and settles your naked body atop the crisp sheets. Holding himself above you.

"I'm gonna make it up to you. Gonna let me taste you, baby?" Cupping your cheek in his large hand, his touch is sweet and reverent. You smile and lean into his touch, giving him a little nod. Leon's lips quirk upwards. "Good."

Leon kisses a trail between your breaths, mapping out a path across your skin. His lips slide gently over your stomach and finally lower to your aching core. Parting your folds with two fingers, he dives in.

He's a messy eater. Lapping and sucking and moaning against your skin, furiously swiping the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves; two fingers knuckle deep inside of you the entire time, curling into a language 'come here' motion. And you know he won't be stopping any time soon.

It seems like hours have passed when Leon pulls himself from your warm cunt. He replaced his tongue and fingers with his cock. The soft, plush tip sliding to part your lower lips for him, gathering your spilling nectar with a rapt moan.

"This pussy was made f'me, wasn't it, baby?" Leon looked down at you tenderly. Easing his hips forward, it's not long before his thick length sinks into you fully. Leon settles into an easy push-pull motion, rocking himself into you. His hand grappled for your hip, hiking your leg slowly to rest on his shoulder. And then the other one.

The bed rocks and creeks violently under the animalistic motions. Leon's snarling is borderline feral, you have half a mind to wonder if he was actually a werewolf this year. Round, heavy balls snap wetly against your ass and the coarse hairs surrounded dick feel like heaven as he fucks you dumb.

"Give it to me... come on, baby. I know you got in ya." Leon stroked his hand down your tummy to toy with your wet clit. Making tight, quick circles, Leon sends you careening off the edge and crying out his name.

With a loud shout, Leon's hips snap flush to yours. He's cumming, cumming, cumming. Cock throbbing as he gives you every last pent-up drop he has to offer. Until you're dripping in his seed and it overflows; leaking out of your poor, soft hole. Sweeping his tip across your clit, Leon prolongs both your pleasure for a couple more seconds. His softened cock slides between your folds, guiding himself back in to feel your nice, warm heat around him once again.

"Did it feel okay? It wasn't too much?" Leon asked, gently running a warm washcloth between your thighs. He tenderly cleans away every drop of your combined fluids. Aftercare was something he enjoyed just as much as the main act itself. "I felt like, maybe, that I was getting a little too into it at times..."

"No, no, I'm so glad you had fun. I promise I had fun too. I was a little sad that we ended it so early into the evening." You smile and shake your head. "It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you for trying it out with me."

Leon chuckled, the corner of his lip crooking into a smile. Leaning down to you, he kisses your head and gently runs his knuckles down your cheek. He finished up and helped you slip into some extra comfortable pyjamas. It was still Halloween for a few more hours.

"Well, maybe we'll continue it next year?" A hint of hopefulness glimmered from his words. Guess the tough-guy agent really did enjoy letting loose and being the big, bad guy sometimes. Especially if it meant he was balls-deep inside of you.

You lay back among the strewn pillows and messy sheets, humming in agreement. Leon settles against your side on his tummy, propping his chin on your shoulder.

"I didn't realize ghosts were non-binary."

Leon's statement came completely out of the blue. You snicker softly and look at your boyfriend confused. Raising a brow, you motioned for him to continue. "I'm sorry-- they what?"

He grinned, "Ghosts. No matter their gender they're all wearing dresses!" He waggled his eyebrows, clearly impressed with his joke.

You groan, tossing your head back in mock exasperation. "Leonnn!"

Leon's laughter echoed throughout the house, full of mirth, more than content to be in his own little bubble with you while the town enjoyed the hauntingly fun festivities.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #re4 leon smut #SoundCloud

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bluetimeombre · 3 months ago

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✧˚ · . 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞,

✧˚ What if Logan had a nightmare about your death and swore that he would never let anything happen to you. But what if, him trying to save you is what gets you killed in the first place?

(I’m back!! Trust me to find a hot guy to obsess over and immediately get to writing. Yes, I’m on the X-men, Logan, Wolverine band wagon and honestly, couldn’t be happier to be here. Binged all the movies, have read all the smut (and don’t tempt me, I want to write my own) but for now enjoy this pure ANGST. Also this is low-key inspired by when Anakin dreams of Padme dying)

Warning/ disclaimer: angst, death, grief, sexual innuendos made, made up scenario, Evil Jean and sad Rogue and very sad Logan. Angst. Not proof read.

You- unlike many if your unfortunate mutant friends- rarely had to deal with nightmares plaguing your peace. Once the moon came out and all the children were safe and tucked away, you took yourself to bed, maybe read a book or a theory Charles wanted your opinion on. On the rare occasion you'd go to the kitchen, see Jean or Scott up after a particularly bad dream.

It was even more rare for you to hear yelling down the corridor. But when you did, you recognised it immediately.

'No!' They yelled out and you shot up in bed, heart racing as if it was your horror you'd woken from.

'No! Not her, please...'

You pushed back your covers and rushed out as the screaming became louder and agonising. Students were already peeking their heads through their doors, or lingering in the doorways. Everyone knew that when he had nightmares, somebody else usually paid off it. 'Back to bed everyone,' you tell them all, trying to keep some composure whilst only in your night gown. You cleared your throat and shooed them all away. 'Nothing go see here.'

You stood in front of his door, blocking students from the door and waiting until they all disappeared back into their rooms.

From inside, you could hear him tossing and turning, claws sheathing and unsheathing. He called your name, more so cried it.

You rushed inside and locked the door behind you, creeping in.

Logan was bare chested (and dare you suggest, completely naked if it weren't for he covers pooling around his waist). He tossed and thrashed his arms out. The sheets were already torn up, blood marking them from where he must have cut himself.

With everything he'd endured it wasn't unlike him to wake up screaming, but in such pain and your name was new.

'Logan!' You crept closer, settling on the edge of his bed. You knew the risk as you watched his claws gleam in the moonlight. 'Logan, wake up!'

He tossed, face contorted in pain. 'Y/N!' He screamed.

As his hand wiped out, you grabbed his wrist before he could accidentally strike you. This seemed to alert him as he shot up, his other fist coming for you.

You stopped him again, with your powers that you'd never been more thankful for.

Logan's eyes cleared from their haze as he slowly realised it was you. His breath moved with his deep and ragged breaths as he stared, taking every part of you in. His eyes searched, as if he couldn't believe you were in front of him.

You gulped, dreading to think what he must have seen.

'Y/n,' he sighed. His claws drew back into his knuckles and he winced. You were reminded how it hurt for him, every time. So it hurt to see him hurt. It always had.

It was an old and tumultuous relationship the two of you shared. Way before he joined the X-Men. The two of you met out of order, always one knowing more about the other. Still, there was no word for what the two of you meant to each other. You didn't need a word. Everyone knew, they just decided to call it different things:

A fling. Love at first sight. Enemies to lovers. Soulmates...

Logan pushed himself back until his back was to the headboard. 'Bub,' he still held onto your wrist, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let you go.

You cupped his rough and large hand in your own. 'Nightmare?'

Sometimes they were memories, painful ones. But the screams, the growls, you'd never heard that reaction from him before.

'You died,' he whispered. He looked her over again. 'You died in my arms.'

'I'm right here,' you said.

Logan looked into your eyes, shaking his head. He was trembling.

You grabbed his cheeks. Any other time, he would have turned away or growled but he only stared at you. Your thumbs soothed over his cheeks, begging him to see you. 'I'm safe. You're safe. Nothing is going to happen to us.'

As if the words instructed him, he knelt, the covers clinging to cover his decency. He held onto your shoulders, a grip worthy of leaving bruises. 'I won't lose you like I've lost everyone else, bub. I won't.'

You nod. 'Ok.'

Logan slowly shrunk back, tucking his covers closer to him. His hands fell between the two. 'Did I... get you?'

For a moment you wondered what he meant. His claws. He was afraid he'd hurt you.

'What? oh, no. No. I'm fine. You must have got yourself though,' you said, gesturing to the blood on the sheets like blood against snow.

'I heal,' Logan grumbled, glancing back up at you. Without saying it, you knew he had the dark images floating in his mind again.

'I'm fine, Logan. You don't need to be so afraid.'

He gulped, his jaw clenching. There was something he wanted to say, but wasn't.

Your hand itched out to reach his but after years of experience, you knew too much physical touch or affection would scare him away. 'Do you want to talk about it?'

'No,' he denied immediately. 'I don't want to think about it.'

You nod slowly. 'Ok.'

The door was still locked and the night was still going.

'Do you want me to stay?'

Logan looked at the door and then at the wrecked sheets around him. He sighed at the sight but his eyes glanced up to you. God, you saw the pain fade to something else. Something softer. 'Come 'ere.' He pulled at your shoulder until you were tucked into his side, warmth spreading over your skin as he tugged the blanket over the two of you.

Your arm slid over his chest and you sighed at the feeling of him. Your legs hiked up, until you were a ball in his side. 'Oh thank god, you're wearing boxers.'

He huffed a laugh, your head moving on his chest. 'I can take them off, if you like?'

You hummed, fingers tracing circles on his chest. 'Don't tempt me, Wolvie.'

✧˚

Logan had always battled against his dreams.

On one hand, he knew they were tricking him. He knew what nightmares were memories played ten-fold to make them worse and he knew which ones were playing on his fears. Like you dying.

But, the less reasonable part of himself (and the part he favoured) couldn't stop thinking about your death. It was the first dream of the sort. He'd had some where he hurt you, his claws sinking into your skin. He'd have other dreams where he was sinking himself into you in a different way.

Your death was new. And it scared him. It scared him so bad he went to Charles to try to calm him.

'Our minds have a way of tricking us, Logan,' said the professor. 'Y/N is a string mutant, level five at that. And she is sensible, good for you in that way.'

'It was Jean,' he admitted. 'In the dream, it was Jean that killed her.' Knowing how much you loved the woman, he hadn't wanted to tell you. You were close enough to sisters, with similar enough powers to grow up together and help each other. For days, he'd looked at Jean with anger and grief. He couldn't help himself, even when Scott threatened to hurt him.

When Charles hesitated to talk him down, to comfort him and tell him Jean would never, it set Logan on edge for the rest of his days.

Now, he feared it was less a dream and more a prophecy.

Jean had lost herself to the Phoenix, that power inside of her that had always threatened to break out. She'd killed the professor, she'd got rid of Cyclops.

Her eyes were set on you.

Logan had done all he could to talk you down to helping. To fighting but you'd distracted him and come along anyway. He'd tried to take down Jean himself with little effort.

The only other person who stood any chance, was you.

He was slouched on the ground, a slab of metal crushing him down as he watched you creep closer to Jean like she was a ticking time bomb. 'Y/n,' he tried to call.

Maybe you didn't hear him, or perhaps you didn't want to. 'Jean, please! Listen to me.'

Logan grunted, trying hard, trying so hard to get free. 'No!'

You raised your hands to the redhead. Her eyes were dark, black like ink and beyond recognition. But she was still your friend, in there. 'Let me help you. I want to help you.'

'Go away,' she growled, trying to push you away with her power, but you blocked with your own.

'Y/N! Don't!' he yelled.

His voice irritated Jean, who's neck cranked around to get rid of his voice. 'Stop!' she yelled.

'Jean, you can stop this. All you need to do is come back to me,' you said, every step getting closer and closer to her.

'Stop!'

Logan grunted, straining against the junk. 'Y/N.'

You reach out a hand to her. 'Jean, come back to us.'

'Leave me alone!' she threw out her arms and you were thrown from your feet, from the junk, tumbling down and being thrown out of sight.

But you couldn't be dead. No, you'd survived worse. But Jean had hurt you and whatever inside of her wasn't Jean.

Logan found the strength and threw the junk off him, running to end Jean and not you.

It was a mistake. If he had known you were in your final breaths then he'd have fought thousands of Jean's to reach you.

But no, whilst he dealt with saving the world, Rogue fell to your side. She gasped at what she was seeing. Metal. Metal pieces thrust through your chest, marking your suit with blood. Too much blood. You didn't heal. Getting out of there was a no go.

Rogue cried. 'Oh god.'

'Hey,' your eyes were barely open, as if so sleepy you couldn't hold your eyes open. Your hand reached out to grab her, but she seemed so far away. 'It's ok. I'm ok.' Both knew it was a lie. A comforting lie. Your head lulled to the side, to look toward Rogue. 'Is Logan alright?'

As you asked, the chaos around them ended. Logan threw his claws into Jean and laid her down gently, knowing you'd want to treat her with the last bit of respect she deserved. He did it for you. All for you.

Rogue watched as everything around you fell. She looked back over her shoulder, seeing a wounded Logan heal at remarkable rate. 'Yes. Yes, he's alright-'

When she looked back at you, your eyes were closed. It was so peaceful, so quick and easy it was as if you were sleeping. But Rogue gently touched your hand with her bare skin and there was nothing. Nothing.

'No!' an animalistic roaring echoed around them, shaking the earth. Logan fell next to you, hands hovering over your body, afraid to touch. 'No! No!' finally, he touched you, ripping away any little part of metal he could get to.

Rogue backed away, crying silently as the X-men gathered to see Logan cradle his own heart to his chest.

Slowly, he takes you in his arms and pulls you from the metal that had stabbed you. Your body slouches, arms falling out and not wrapping around him, not comforting him like he needed you to. He shook your body, tears blurring his vision and sliding down until they splashed on your cheeks. But you didn't flinch.

'Y/N? Y/N? Bub, c'mon,' he cried, shaking his head. 'Don't do this to me, no.'

It was just as he'd seen. Your blood. His body. Your death. His arms.

Logan growled. 'C'mon!' he roared. It was a moment of fury. Blind anger raging as you left him when you promised you never would. Suddenly, he remembered how much you hated his anger. How you'd shriek away from his yells. 'Oh, baby, i'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Logan cradled you close, kissing the top of your forehead. You were so cold already.

Nobody touched him. Nobody comforted him. That was your job. But you were dead. His dreams had come true in the worst way possible.

Logan, held you close, rocking you both, finally realising what it felt like to lose everything.

(If anyone has any ideas for a Logan request please let me know, I’d love to try to write more about him!)

#logan howlett #wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #x men #reader insert #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 month ago

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Words: 4,988 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, innuendo (duh, it's Negan), injury, fear and anxiety, frightening scenarios Summary: Returning after the run, Daryl gives Negan a talking to and things between Negan and the reader seem like they may have changed. A/N: oh shit, oh sHIT, OH SHIT Previous part

“Well, here we are again,” you sighed, tugging open the door of Negan’s cell.

“Home, sweet home,” he quipped, staring inside. He rubbed a hand over his short hair briefly, hesitating only for a moment before he stepped inside and turned to stand in the space where the door would soon close. “Can’t exactly say I’m glad to be back.”

You had your own mixed feelings again as you shut the door and the thunk of the heavy metal latch slid into place, securely locking him inside. What would be required for him to truly earn the next step of more freedom? He’d stayed when he could have run. Surely that was something, but uncertainty churned in your stomach. You paused, one of your hands coming to grip one of the bars. You could almost taste the tension like smoke in the air. “I—I just wanted to say—”

“—that you had a fucking amazing time out there with me and you’re completely heartbroken to see it end?” he interrupted, smiling at you. “Oh, and you regret not jumpin’ my bones while you had the chance, of course.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling a little yourself. “I wanted to say thank you. I’m fully aware that the entire situation could’ve been—you could’ve made it much worse. You could’ve left. Hell, you could’ve probably killed me if you wanted to…”

Negan’s expression grew serious. “Like I said before, I don’t want to hurt you. And I have no intention of doing so.”

“Negan, if it came down to me or your freedom—”

“I wouldn’t,” he said strongly. “I already chose to stay, didn’t I? I’m—not even entirely sure why myself,” he laughed dryly. “Might regret that when I’m staring at these same four fuckin’ walls again in a few minutes.”

You felt your cheeks warm with an inexplicable flush again and you had to break the gaze between the two of you. “Well,” you said, dropping your grip on the bar, “thank you, Negan.”

He couldn’t help smiling when you said his name and he leaned forward on the bars now himself at the same moment you drew back. “Have I told you that I love the sound of my name leaving your lips, darlin’? Say it again,” he grinned. “I’m gonna imagine all kinds of scenarios in my head where you’re sayin’ my name as soon as you’re out of here…”

“Stop,” you reprimanded him.

“Aw, come on! You’ve gotta give me a little play here. Was I not a total gentleman on the outside? I kept my hands completely to myself on our dinner date.”

“Dinner date? That’s what you’re going to call heating up MREs while we were trapped in a basement with a mummified dead guy?”

He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face, chuckling a little. “Yeah! It seems pretty on-brand for the apocalypse. And by the way—don’t think I wasn’t tempted to get a little handsy. You were wearing my spare layer after all, and it’s only natural that I thought about what it’d be like to take it off of you and keep going.”

“Enough, Negan!” you snapped, completely aware that your face had to be bright red from the feeling of the heat washing over you. “Jesus!”

“Too far?” he asked, still grinning.

You ignored him. “Daryl is gonna bring you lunch.”

“Daryl? Wait—why?”

You were already heading toward the door but you turned to look back at him, continuing your progress out with a few backwards steps. You shrugged. “Dunno. He said he wanted a word with you.”

Negan swore under his breath. “Shit… He’s probably gonna give me another lecture.”

You smiled and shrugged. “Probably. I’d behave if I were you, if you ever hope to see four different walls again. I’ll see you this evening.”

“Hey! Wait!” he called after you once more as your hand was on the door. “You should go get that hand looked at. Even if they can’t stitch it, you should make sure it’s not infected! I mean look at the state of the bandage, doll.”

You did glance down at it and it was grey with dirt and dust. “Yeah, alright. I will. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”

It wasn’t long before Daryl came thudding into the room with a tray for Negan. Negan looked up from his seat on his cot and rested his book (one of the ones you’d brought for him) over his knee.

The archer put the tray down and kicked it through the slot a little abruptly, sloshing some of the water out of the cup. Negan cast his eyes up toward Daryl’s scowl. He saw the muscle in his jaw tense. He couldn’t help smiling at him. “Problem?” he asked.

“Might be,” Daryl drawled, crossing his arms, “if ya ain’t careful.”

“Oh, I’m always careful, Daryl,” Negan said, leaning back as if at his ease.

“I saw the way ya were lookin’ at Y/N out there today.”

The smile on Negan’s face faded slowly. “How was I looking?”

“You know how and I know how,” Daryl growled, pointing at him emphatically through the bars.

Negan shrugged and tried to play it off, but his heart was hammering nervously in his chest.

“I dunno what happened out there or what you think is happenin’ with Y/N, but ya better watch yerself, asswipe. If I hear of the slightest thing that’s off, if I suspect any of this ‘good behavior’ shit is an act, tha’s it. It’ll be the end of all your free time outside of these bars. Ya can rot in here for all I care. Ain’t like ya dun deserve to. And if I find out that yer tryin’ to pull some bullshit over on Y/N, if yer tryin’ to manipulate yer way outta this cell—I’ll kill ya myself.” His blue eyes were fierce and sharp and Negan gulped uneasily beneath them.

“Daryl—”

“Nah,” he snapped. “I dun give a shit about a thing ya gotta say. ‘M just warnin’ ya, Negan. Got it?”

Negan licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Oh, I’ve got it hotrod,” he said, following it up with a smirk, just to annoy Daryl.

“Good.” And he stalked out.

The day got away from you, mainly from sorting through the supplies, helping with the rationing, and getting yourself cleaned up after the long ordeal outside the walls and a little better rested. It was already evening before you remembered you’d meant to stop into the clinic about your hand. Anyone in the clinic surely would have left for the night already, and since it wasn’t a pressing issue, you decided instead to change the dressing yourself and check in with Siddiq in the morning.

Instead, you got a tray of food ready and headed back down the dim street toward the jail. When the door swung open you saw Negan standing at the small window of his cell, trying to perhaps soak in the last bit of light as the sun went down. He had his small lantern lit already and it cast everything in a warm orange glow. He turned at the sound of your footsteps and greeted you with a small smile before ambling over toward the cell door, hands in his pockets.

“You alright?” you asked, sensing something in the air.

“Peachy, doll,” he said. “Daryl and I had a swell chat earlier.”

You sighed heavily and gave him an apologetic look. “I hope he wasn’t too tough on you. I told him you were a huge help outside the walls.”

“Oh, he just threatened to kill me again is all,” Negan said, sinking down on the floor close to the door, fiddling with the empty water cup on the tray. “No big deal.”

You set his full dinner tray down on the chair beside you and copied his position on the floor outside the bars. “He’s—just protective. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Negan chuckled. “Protective is an understatement,” he said, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, leaning back with his palms on the cold floor. “I can’t blame him though. A guy like me with a history like mine? I probably deserve more than a little threatening.”

You gulped, feeling torn about agreeing with him or not, so you stayed silent. That divided feeling that sat somewhere deep in your chest was becoming familiar. There was a beat of silence and Negan could read worry on your face. He wanted to pull you out of it.

“Hey—you look great, doll,” he said softly. It was almost a whisper.

You glanced up at him, one of your eyebrows arching up in a question. Then you glanced down at yourself and laughed. “I showered and changed into clean clothes. It’s not like I’m in a ballgown, Negan.”

“You don’t need to be. I’d take you covered in walker guts if the opportunity presented itself,” he said with a grin.

You winced. “Gross,” you retorted. “I think you have issues.”

“Unequivocally,” he agreed. “Doesn’t mean what I said isn’t true.”

You shook your head and sighed a little. Over his shoulder, you noticed the book sitting open on his cot. “Which one did you go for?” you asked, nodding toward it.

“Oh, the western, of course. Cowboys and damsels in distress? Shoot-outs? ‘This town ain’t big enough for the both of us?’ Fuck yeah,” he said, glancing back at you, still smiling. “Thanks again, for bringing me those by the way. It’s a big improvement over the one I’ve read fifteen fuckin’ times.”

You hated that you noticed the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled and the deep dimples in his cheeks, nearly hidden in the scruff of his beard. You ducked your head, nodding and trying to clear your throat of the inexplicable tightness that had materialized there. “No problem.” Your eyes landed again on the lunch tray sitting by the slot. You were about to reach for it when you caught sight of the pebbly red shapes still on the plate. You frowned. “You didn’t touch your raspberries,” you said, nodding toward the tray in front of Negan.

“Yeah, actually, I saved them for you,” he said, nodding toward them. “You said they’re your favorite and since the crop was bad this year from the drought... you should have them. You deserve them more than me.” He nudged his tray slightly back toward the slot so you’d be able to reach them if you slipped your hand through.

You looked at him curiously for a moment, a little surprised by this particular consideration, and then reached your hand through to grab one. Before your fingers could touch the ruby red fruit, you let out a small gasp of surprise as Negan’s hand closed softly around yours. He hadn’t moved quickly. On the contrary, it was slow and fluid but you were somehow still shocked by the sudden contact. His touch was warm and gentle. His thumb smoothed over the back of your hand and slipped underneath to your palm. He turned your hand palm up so it rested in his and his thumb traced the lines from your wrist up toward your fingertips then drifted back down and pressed lightly into the concave center of your palm and ghosted up the graceful shape of your thumb. You were frozen, stunned by his touch, your lips slightly parted and your eyes a little wide, a little hesitant and questioning. You felt as if your heart had stopped and your lungs refused to work. You were finally able to tear your eyes from your hand in his, back up to meet his gaze. His expression, his hazel eyes were astonishingly soft.

“‘M sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to startle you. I couldn’t help myself,” he whispered, drawing his hand back from yours. His eyes searched yours, trying to read what you were thinking. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that since I bandaged up that other hand of yours. You have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve really had any human touch?” Your hand hovered in the air for a moment once his fingers left, and Negan picked up the remaining berries and dropped them into your palm. Your skin was still tingling from the contact and you couldn’t be sure if your heart was beating or not.

You blinked, trying to break whatever spell had settled over you, and then hurriedly grabbed his empty tray and got to your feet, nearly stumbling back from the bars.

Negan rose slowly, watching you carefully, suddenly anxious. “You alright, doll? Was that—”

“I’m fine,” you cut him off quickly. “I just—I should go,” you said hastily. You grabbed the tray with his evening meal off the chair beside you and pushed it through the slot where it hit the toes of Negan’s boots.

He nodded, his eyes narrowed as he tried to read what was going on in your head. “Okay. Hey—before you go, what’d the doc say about your sliced up hand anyway?”

“Oh, uhh—I didn’t get over there today. Just—got busy. I’ll go by in the morning,” you said, already backing out toward the door.

Negan nodded. You looked half-frantic and he felt another pang of anxiety. Perhaps that had been too much… “Y/N—Look, I’m sorry if that was—”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m fine! It’s all fine,” you said hurriedly, your heart racing now. You felt slightly light-headed.

“Are you sure? Because I think you turned those raspberries into jam,” Negan said, glancing down at your hand and there was red juice dripping out between your fingers and dotting the floor. In the low light, you could’ve mistaken it for blood.

“Shit,” you swore, looking at the remnants in your hand. “Fuck me, what a mess… I—I’ll clean that up… later.”

Negan watched, perplexed and worried as you hurriedly left without another word, his brow furrowed heavily over his hazel eyes. Fuck. Had he royally fucked up? Maybe he’d be seeing Daryl sooner rather than later…

_ _ _ _ _ _

You’d hardly slept. You were overwhelmed by what you’d felt when Negan had simply held your hand in his, had run his fingers over the underside of your wrist and across the back of your hand. Your stomach was churning and you were unsettled all night, tossing and turning on your mattress and staring up at the ceiling watching the shadows change while sleep evaded you.

Fuck. This was a mess. What the fuck were you thinking? No—better question: what the fuck were you feeling? This was Negan. The man who had psychologically tormented your entire group, who had wielded the bat and murdered two of your beloved family members in front of you, who had tortured Daryl and nearly starved your community, who had ordered his men to shoot your people with poisoned arrowd.

But another voice answered. He’s not the same though, is he? He’s not him. Not anymore. You know he’s different.

It doesn’t matter. He still did all those things.

It does matter. Or do you not believe in redemption? In rehabilitation? In hope? If there’s no chance of redemption, shouldn’t you all have just killed him after the war? Why keep him alive now if there’s no future for him even if he is changed?

Fuck!

You kicked the covers off and rubbed your hands over your face as you sat up on the edge of the bed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You looked down at the bandage on your hand and remembered his concern outside the walls, not just for himself but for you. And he stayed. Surely that meant something.

Fuck.

You headed into the bathroom and poured some water into the basin, splashing it as best you could over your face with your uninjured hand. Better just start the day. Sleep wasn’t coming. You just needed to put what you felt, whatever that was that you felt, aside and do your job. Compartmentalize. You could do that. Right? You were wracked with self-doubt. Maybe you should stop before this went any farther… Maybe you should go back to Michonne and Daryl and tell them—tell them… what? That you somehow were developing feelings for Negan? Fuck. No. No, you couldn’t do that. You could handle this. It wasn’t a big deal. It was one touch. You could compartmentalize. It’d all be fine…

Your train of thought was interrupted by a throbbing in your injured hand and you were grateful it gave you something else to focus on. Right. You’d better get it checked out. You pulled on some clothes and headed for the clinic.

The door was unlocked, which was a good sign that at least someone was in. You heard movement from the back as you walked in and Dante called out, “I’ll be right there!” from somewhere among the supply shelves.

You paced around for a moment and finally settled against a nearby exam table. He came breezing out in his white coat with a clipboard in his hand and greeted you with a smile.

“Sorry about that! Inventory, you know? Still my least favorite chore, but pretty important nowadays. So, what brings you in?”

“Oh, um, is Siddiq here by chance?” you asked. You knew Siddiq well from the council and generally were more comfortable with him.

Dante clicked his tongue. “He’s not in yet. Between the two of us, I’m the earlier riser so I usually come in first. Must be left over from my time in the military,” he explained with a good-natured smile. “If you’d like to come back later today, he’ll be in for sure. Otherwise, I’m happy to help now if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s no big deal. We’re just close from the council and everything. Thought I’d say hi. I’d rather just get it looked at, I guess. It’s just this gash on my hand from the run the other day and I just figured I should get it checked out and make sure it’s not infected or anything.”

“Alright,” he said, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. “Let’s take a look.” You started to unwrap the bandage as he set out a few items. “What’d you cut it on?” he asked.

“A sharp corner or something on a metal bracket,” you said.

“Oof,” he said, peeling off the last bit of gauze as the injury came into view. “Got yourself pretty good there! Well, let’s clean it up and have a look. This may sting a bit.”

“We flushed it out and cleaned it after it happened. It did take a while for it to stop bleeding. I was worried it'd need stitches.”

“I’m not surprised! It’s pretty deep!” he said, tossing aside the used alcohol swabs. “Any pain still? I mean, when you aren’t bumping it or trying to use this hand?” he asked, giving you a knowing look.

You shrugged. “Maybe a bit. It’s throbbing a little this morning. It’s not infected, is it?”

He examined it more closely and finally sighed and shook his head. “I don't think you have an infection, no, but it does look a little inflamed and irritated. You should be taking it easy with this,” he instructed you. “Try to limit use while it’s healing. And I’m gonna give you some anti-inflammatory pain meds that should help with any discomfort and the swelling—”

“Oh, no. Really, it’s not bad. I’m fine,” you tried to argue.

He smiled and shook his head. “Always having to act like a badass, Y/N. You and Daryl! Never taking medical advice,” he laughed. “Come on. Doctor’s orders,” he said. “I’ll be right back with them. Trust me. It’ll help.” He returned quickly with a cup of water and a couple pills for you.

You relented, seeing that he was going to insist, and took them before he re-dressed your hand.

“Big plans today?” he asked, skillfully finishing the bandaging with clean dressings.

You shook your head. “No. The usual. I need to head over to get Negan’s breakfast to him.”

“Good. That shouldn’t be too strenuous on the hand,” he laughed. “Alright. All finished up. Do you want me to let Siddiq know you were looking for him?” he asked, pulling off his gloves.

You waved him off. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other soon. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. And I mean it, take it easy with that hand! Let it heal up! Come back and see me if you have any more problems.” You waved goodbye to Dante and thanked him once more before you left. Alexandria was just starting to wake up, and you headed to grab a few things from the pantry and prepared something to take down to Negan. You wondered if he was even awake yet. He hadn’t slept while you’d been outside the walls. He might be sleeping still. Maybe you should wait… The sun was just streaking the morning sky with pinks and oranges. Your stomach flipped as you again thought of what had happened last night and you did your best to swallow down your anxiety. Were you just trying to postpone seeing him? You groaned internally at yourself.

Fuck it. What did it matter if he was awake or not? You had his damn breakfast ready you might as well just drop it off.

You unlocked the outside door and pushed inside. Turns out, he was already awake, laying on his back on his cot and bouncing a tennis ball off the wall and catching it on the rebound. He sat up hastily as you came in and looked at you hesitantly, like he was trying to read your expression carefully.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you returned. You set the full tray down on the chair outside his cell and retrieved the one sitting empty from the night before. Negan got up and slowly wandered toward the bars, tossing the tennis ball back and forth between his hands. You swapped out the empty tray for the one with his breakfast on it and straightened up, surprised to see him maybe a little over a mere foot from you, separated only by the bars. His eyes were flickering over your face and his expression was heavy and serious. You cleared your throat and gulped. “What?” you asked nervously.

“I just wanted to say—about last night—”

You lifted a hand to cut him off. “Negan—”

“—if that was too much or too sudden or—I’m sorry if—”

“Negan, let’s just forget about it,” you said, crossing your arms and avoiding his brilliantly hazel eyes.

He stopped trying to talk over you and licked his lips, pursing them thoughtfully for a moment. Your posture was guarded, but he forged ahead anyway. “Is that what you want? To forget about it?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Is that what you want?” he asked again.

Just answer. Why couldn’t you get the answer out. Just say ‘yes.’ “I—”

His eyes were still flickering between yours and then journeying down to your lips. Your heart started to pound in your chest. “It’s just a simple question, doll. If that’s what you want—” he shrugged, “then we’ll forget about it.”

You were trying to answer, trying to dredge up a response when you suddenly felt dizzy and lifted a hand to your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You felt sick. You felt off. Something wasn’t right.

“…Doll?”

You reached out to grip one of the bars of Negan’s cell to steady yourself. It felt like the floor was slanting.

“Hey, hey—look at me, darlin’. What’s going on?”

You shook your head in an attempt to clear the growing fog. “I—I don’t know. I feel—dizzy and—”

Negan’s alarm increased as all the color seemed to drain from your face in an instant. “Hey, why don’t you sit down? You don’t look so good. Y/N? Can you hear me?”

Negan’s voice sounded like it was coming out of a drain in another room. It was warped and muffled and your equilibrium seemed to have all but disappeared. You were having a hard time keeping your eyes open and staying on your feet. The whole room was tilting.

“Hey! Y/N? Talk to me! Can you hear me? Sit down! You look like you’re about to faint! Look at me, darlin’!”

But Negan watched with horror as your body suddenly went limp and you pitched forward. He did what he could to try to stop your fall through the bars, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was in no position to be able to support you as you fell. Despite his best efforts, your head collided with a bar near the bottom of his cell and then you lay still on your stomach, crumpled on the floor.

“Oh, fuck! Shit! Y/N?” Negan shoved his tray out of the way and knelt down, reaching through the bars to caress your hair away from your face and lightly pat your cheek in an attempt to rouse you. “Y/N, you’ve gotta wake up, doll! Come on! Wake up! Open those beautiful eyes and look at me!” He gently lifted your head and his stomach clenched as he saw blood running down the side of your face and dripping onto the floor. “Open your eyes, darlin’! Look at me! Come on!” There was no response from you, no sign that you could hear him or were at all coming back to consciousness. “Fuck! Fuck!!” he growled, panicked, looking around for something to help—but how could he? He was locked in a fucking cell.

That’s it! Keys! You had to have your keys! Maybe he could get them and get out and help you—get you to help. He was about to start patting your pockets when he caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye sitting on the seat of the chair outside his cell, well out of reach.

“Fuck!” He hung his head, his mind spinning frantically. “Y/N? Come on, you’ve gotta wake up!” He gently shook you by your shoulder, but still, you didn’t rouse. He trained his eyes on your back and could at least see that your breathing seemed steady, if a little shallow. He was afraid to move you too much. He rushed to the small window. “HEY! HELP! WE NEED HELP IN HERE!” he roared as loud as he could, banging on the glass, but unless someone happened to walk by, there was little hope of anyone hearing him through the thick pane. The window was shut and locked up tightly. “FUCK!”

“Okay… Okay,” he breathed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Keys. I have to get the keys… what can I—what can I use?” He stood and searched his cell. He had nothing. He had nothing that could reach… He needed something long enough to reach the chair and it wasn’t like he had a walking stick or wire hangers or even a goddamn belt in his cell. His eyes finally settled on his cot. He quickly snatched the wool blanket off the top and ran back to the bars. He extended his arm out between two of the bars as far as he could and flipped the blanket up onto the seat of the chair. It landed on his empty evening tray which you’d set aside there. He pulled back slowly and the tray moved slightly before the blanket slid off. The keys were still sitting behind the tray near the back edge of the seat. He had to be careful not to knock them off the back… if he did, it’d be completely hopeless.

He tried again with the blanket, frantically. And again. And again. And, finally, the tray fell to the floor with a clatter, but your heavy ring of keys was sitting stubbornly still.

He constantly stopped and checked on you, called your name, smoothed his hand over your hair, and tried to wake you. But you stayed totally still, unconscious. He grabbed another blanket off his bed and cushioned your head but was too afraid to try to move you much more.

He returned to the wool blanket and had just flicked it onto the chair again when the outside door pushed in. Negan froze and looked up at the figure that had just entered. At first, he felt a wash of relief. “Hey—doc! You’ve gotta help her. She just collapsed—fainted or something,” he said, straightening up. “It wasn’t me, I swear. I don't know what the hell happened.” He dropped his blanket by his side and gripped onto the bars, his voice and expression urgent.

But Dante didn’t rush into action. Instead, he stared down at your crumpled figure on the floor and then casually checked the time on his watch. Negan looked on, confused, as Dante smiled.

“What the hell are you doing?” Negan demanded. "You're suppose to help her!"

“She’s right on time,” Dante said, casually pacing forward to stand over you.

Negan’s teeth clenched together. “Aren’t you going to help her?!” he asked, incredulous.

Dante only laughed, a chilling sound, and walked over to the chair, scooping up your ring of keys off the seat. “Were you trying for these?” he asked, jingling them at Negan.

Negan stared back, a heavy shadow falling over his face. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I was.”

#negan angst #negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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matchavellichor · 1 year ago

Note

If you’re still taking requests then I have one 😊

Could you please write a scenario where Sebastian goes home for the Christmas holiday to make amends with Anne and Solomon (before shit happens) and he leaves Ominis and Female MC alone. They finally get to spend time alone together for once and find they have a lot more in common than rheu previously thought (they go on walks, study in the library, hang out in the undercroft) and Ominis who already had a secret little crush on her but always thought that Sebastian kinda had a claim on her, starts falling very hard and he finally decides to do something about it. Maybe they’re hanging out in the undercroft one night and he spontaneously kisses her. I would adore if you could take this into NSFW territory, I’d love the awkward yet sensual first-time sex between them if you could (and as much as I love him, please no Dominis, I want the sweet boy we meet in the game) ♥️

A.N: Thank you for this request! I absolutely adored writing this, so precious 🥹 I hope you enjoy! Also thank you to everyone else who sent a request, I'm trying to get through all of them now that I'm on break and have more time 🫶

You Drew Stars

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - NSFW/Fluff - 5.6k words

Summary: After Sebastian leaves the castle to spend winter break in Feldcroft, Ominis' sentiments for his friend slowly begin to stretch past the bounds of what's platonically appropriate...

Tags: "Un"requited Love, Pining, Miscommunication, Loss of Virginity, First-Times, Friends to Lovers, Supportive Friend Sebastian Sallow

The library was empty as Ominis meandered his way through towards the back shelves, most of the other students having gone home for winter break. To his satisfaction, the few who had stayed didn’t share any habits of curling up with a book an hour before curfew.

He made his way to the old, royal purple chaise that he usually sat in towards the back corner of the establishment, tucked just behind a shelf on holistic gardening that no one ever frequented. He stilled when he noticed someone already there, the quiet sound of pages turning alerting him of their presence.

“Hey, Ominis,” She glanced up when she heard him approach and eyed the book in his hand curiously. “Some light reading before bed?”

“Oh, it’s you,” He scratched the back of his neck. “I was, but I think I’ll just head back to—”

“Don’t be silly,” She tucked herself towards one side of the lounge and patted the seat directly beside her. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s fine, really, you were here first—”

She sighed. “Will you just sit down?”

He shifted nervously in his place for a moment before finally coming to some decision and making his way towards her to take a seat. The chaise sat two people comfortably, albeit a bit cramped, their arms brushing every time either of them turned a page.

She didn’t seem to mind. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess the same level of indifference, a faint flush of pink creeping up his neck from beneath his white Oxford when she crossed her legs and her thighs brushed against his.

After finishing up her chapter, she reached over to tilt the front cover of his book towards her, her curiosity getting the best of her. She was awfully forward, if not borderline rude. He tried to disguise the fact he liked it.

“Brontë?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Developed a rebellious streak, have you, Ominis?”

“Something like that,” He mused. “Though, I suppose there are better ways to defy my parents.”

“Oh, certainly. If you spent more time with me you’d have a plethora of creative ideas by now,” She grinned. “Not that sneaking around reading Muggle literature isn’t an admirable offense, of course.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You make an enticing offer, I have to admit.”

“What can I say, I’m enticing.”

Overwhelmingly, he thought.

He accompanied her to her dorm room afterwards and tried to wipe the stupid, dreadful smile on his face the entire walk back to his own.

They fell into a simple sort of routine.

Even though they had already fit into some category of the word friends, it had never been in the same way that she was with Sebastian. The more he got to know her, the more he wondered why he hadn’t done so sooner. She was absolutely brilliant.

He quickly learned she was just as much of a night owl as he was, often walking into the common room to find her already curled up on one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace, waiting for him.

She’d lay out a rotating selection of Muggle literature and make him pick one for her to read to him, even if he insisted he could just cast a simple dictation spell or transfigure a copy in braille.

He quickly found his particular favorite was Jane Austen, to which she teased him relentlessly for being a bleeding heart romantic. Gods, she had no idea.

She introduced him to Mary Shelley, which he enjoyed just as much, although he posited he’d grow to appreciate just about anything as long as it was her reading it to him.

It was over steaming cups of earl gray in the common room and midday walks through the snow-crested forest that his inkling of a crush morphed into something else. Something more.

Feelings, he recognized rather ruefully, one late evening after she’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his lap in the common room.

Twisty, hot, almost nausea-inducing feelings. Overwhelming and nerve-wracking, but at the same time so unbelievably good, and warm, and sweet, because how could he feel anything else with her except pleasantries?

They were the kind where he found he wanted to do nothing more but stay in the private, simple routine they’d created for themselves, just the two of them. Wanted to keep living in the daydream he’d invented about their relationship, where sometimes she’d hug him goodnight a little too tightly, or sit a little too close, and it’d almost feel like she cared for him the same way he cared for her. Almost.

He ignored the guilty, nagging sensation in his gut about her relationship with Sebastian, and decided he’d let his delusions take him through the remainder of their holiday together.

Stretched out on the plush rug in front of the common room fireplace, he wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to nudge him with a stockinged foot for the thirtieth time in the last five minutes.

“Quit it,” He didn’t glance up from where his fingers were combing over the braille in his open textbook. “You’re distracting me.”

“You’re not even studying anymore,” She wriggled her foot out of his hold and poked his thigh again in defiance. “You’re a terrible fake-reader, you know. You don’t even make your eyes move across the lines.”

“Hilarious,” He rolled his eyes, finally closing the book on his lap. “And maybe I’ve stopped studying because someone has been prodding me incessantly for the past half-hour.”

“My mental capacity has reached its limit for the night. And I’m starved,” She picked herself up from the floor, rolling her shoulders back in a stretch, before holding a hand out for him to take. “Come on, up. Let’s get something to eat.”

He waved his wand over his wristwatch. “It’s nearly one in the morning, where on earth are we going to get something to eat?”

Her lips curled into a smirk as she helped him to his feet. “I have my ways.”

He sighed a defeated breath as he let her tug him along. “Yes, I’m aware. I’m afraid that’s precisely my concern.”

“Gods, we’re going to be given twin concussions by a kitchen elf any second now. I hear Tilly’s got a particularly strong arm.” The glowing tip of Ominis’ wand cast the dark surroundings of the Hogwarts kitchens in a red hue. “Keep an eye out for any hurtling rolling pins, will you?”

“Will you stop worrying? It’s fine.” She huffed, sticking her head into one of the pantries of the kitchens before popping out a few moments later. “Apple or blueberry?”

“Both?”

She grinned, slipping back inside. “This is why we’re friends.”

“We’re friends? This is news to me.”

She narrowed her eyes at where he was poised at the doorway. “Keep talking like that and we’ll be enemies soon enough.”

“My biggest nightmare,” He teased. “I certainly would not want to get on your bad side.”

He followed her as she slipped past him out of the pantry with two magically-steaming pies in hand, making her way towards the exit of the kitchens.

“You’re certainly a lot smarter than Sebastian, then,” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know what’s good for you.”

You’re good for me, he thought.

“Call it self-preservation.”

“How about dinner with a view?” She stopped at the bottom stairwell of the Astronomy tower, only pale moonlight and the dim, orange glow of the scattered wall sconces to illuminate the barren hallways they’d been treading through.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really make a difference to me, all of my dinners are without a view.”

“Oh, look who’s all clever all of a sudden.” She rolled her eyes.

He grinned. “I’ve always been clever. Do keep up.”

She balanced the pie in her hands in one arm and took his hand with the other, beginning the long, meandering ascent to the upper tower platform.

Her fingers laced so nicely with his, as if they’d been carved to mold perfectly with his own. Smaller than his, but warm, and familiar. He reveled in the privilege of getting to touch her so freely, conscious of the fact this comfortableness would most likely end as soon as Sebastian was back from Feldcroft.

They sat cross-legged with their arms draped over the metal railing, tucking into their pies and trading spoonfuls of rich, syrupy goodness. It wasn’t as cold as a normal December night, but he cast periodic warming charms over them anyways and transfigured his jumper into a blanket that turned out only marginally big enough for the both of them.

They ate in comfortable, companionable silence and all that he could think about is how he wished he could do this always. In the summer, in the spring, in the fall. That this wasn’t something temporary, something that would be robbed from him in a few short weeks.

“Didn’t realize you were such a messy eater, Ominis.” She glanced up at him, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Where’s all that pureblood dining etiquette gone to?”

He rolled his eyes and went to feel around for a napkin, but she leaned forward instead. He sucked in a sharp breath as she braced a hand on his thigh and swiped her thumb over the side of his mouth, collecting remnants of blueberry jam, brushing over his bottom lip in a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, though in reality was brief and fleeting.

She sat back down in her seat, unphased, and popped the digit in her mouth, bottom teeth scraping over the pad of her thumb, sugar melting on her tongue.

His mouth felt terribly dry.

He swallowed down the sensation of longing with a spoonful of apple filling and flaky, golden crust.

Bellies full with ungodly amounts of pie, they laid beside each other on the too-small blanket, and Ominis tried to ignore the too-loud sound of his blood rushing in his ears, paired with the too-fast beating of his heart in his chest, and attempted to simply relax.

He closed his eyes and focused on something other than the consuming feeling of want prickling over his skin, setting his nerve-endings alight with the desire to touch and hold and caress. She wasn’t his to do any of those things with.

He focused on her soft, steady breathing. The rise and fall of her chest beside his.

“Merlin, it’s beautiful.” She murmured, a dazed quality to her voice.

“I’m sure it is.” He replied just as listless, though undoubtedly for other reasons.

She turned her head to face him. “Want me to describe it to you?”

He turned to face her as well and he was suddenly acutely aware of the feeling of her breath ghosting his cheek. She was so close. His voice was quiet. “Would you?”

She nodded. “Alright, close your eyes.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

She grinned. “Shut up and do it.”

He obliged with a disgruntled huff. Pleased, she turned back towards the scenery.

“It’s a full moon tonight, so everything has this almost…silver glow. Like the whole world’s been dipped in platinum.” She began.

He tried to picture it in his head, sheens of pale white cast over rolling hills and thick forest.

“You can see the entire lake from up here, never-ending and inky black, and juuust there, past the border of the forest—” She outstretched a hand. “—is Hogsmeade, with its little orange lights.”

She glanced sideways at him to see his eyes still closed, the softest smile brushing his lips.

She continued, “What’s really pretty though, is the stars. Too many to ever count. Enough to make your head dizzy, really.” She let out a laugh and he decided it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Some are brighter than others, and you can make out little pictures in the night sky. Tonight, there’s Orion looking down on us,” She tilted her head, brows knitting together as she took a moment to study him. “Actually…”

He let out a startled breath when he felt her fingertips make contact with his cheek, dragging over his skin in feather-light touches, tracing the small smattering of beauty marks there.

“You bear a remarking similarity,” She ran her index softly between the points, connecting little invisible lines. “Right here.”

He swallowed hard. “Do I?”

“Mhm,” She hummed. “It’s awfully pretty.”

She hadn’t pulled her hand back. His skin buzzed with the sensation, because her fingertips were still there, on his cheek, touching him with a softness that he had never known before in his life, with a kindness that he was so unaccustomed to.

Gentle, repetitive drags, skin-on-skin, that same prickling sensation of want having grown into something almost painful inside of him. Bubbling and overwhelming, just underneath his flesh, his fingers twitching with the desire to reach out and feel.

He was conscious of how stupid it was, mind-numbingly so, but he couldn’t bear the aching tension in his chest any longer, and he knew of only one way to acquiesce his restless heart.

He cupped her own cheek in his hand, dipped his chin forward, and captured her lips in his.

Her fingers froze against his cheek, and he could feel the slight surprise in her body language, before it quickly morphed into something else, something accepting, something satisfied. As if she’d been longing just as desperately, had been waiting for this the same way he’d been.

Her hand dragged down to thread through the fine, blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her, eliciting a sharp intake of air through his nose, settling all kinds of feelings deep behind his navel.

She parted her lips for him and he chased the syrupy taste of sugar on her tongue like he needed it to live, swallowed her quiet, breathy pants like mouthfuls of honey, sticky and saccharine and so overwhelmingly her he could drown in it.

She was so sweet, so soft, and far, far too perfect for his fantasies to have ever possibly done her justice.

When she finally broke away, he could feel her drowsy, sapless smile against his lips. He smiled back, just as giddy, an absolute fool, surely, but in the moment he couldn’t care less. He resisted the urge to dive back in. To run his tongue over her teeth and plead for more, because he knew he would most likely never get enough.

He was content then, just holding her. She tucked herself into his side, pillowed her head on his chest, and let him run his hands up and down her back. Let him bury his nose in the crown of her hair and revel in the feeling of having her there, feeling too much like his.

After that, their routine shifted into something else. Something unspoken, that didn’t really need any labels or clarifications, because it all fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. Normal and simple and easy and natural.

Because, of course he got to kiss her goodnight when he left her at her dorm room every evening. And it was only obvious that they’d lace their fingers together on their Sunday trips to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer, and sit on the same side of the booth instead of opposite each other like before. And why would she not drape her legs over his lap on that purple chaise in the library, or tuck herself into his side on that dusty, old loveseat in the Undercroft?

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to ever get so lucky, but he thanked Fortune herself every night he got to collect her in his arms and press lingering kisses to her forehead. It was an intoxicating feeling to have everything he wanted right there in his hands, soft and pliable and willing, so perfectly receptive to his touch, so eager to reciprocate with the same amount of fevered passion and affection.

Of course, there were levels of uncertainties to their relationship still. Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask, out of fear of ruining everything. What are we and and for the love of Circe, tell me this means something to you, too poised on the tip of his tongue everytime she wrapped herself around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

There were boundaries, admittedly maybe only fictitious ones his own anxious brain fabricated, but ones nonetheless. He’d always ask her first before he kissed her, and she’d always respond with eager nods, blissful smiles, and her fingers curling into the front of his shirt to tug his mouth down to hers.

He adored kissing her. Maybe a bit too much. Alright, maybe alarmingly too much.

He’d spend eternity with his mouth on hers if he could, and it still wouldn’t be enough. He constantly craved the numb, bruised feeling of his lips after a particularly long makeout session. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, of being so intimate with her, of the soft and sweet and spit-sticky brushes of her tongue against his, of that aching, heated swirl he got just behind his navel.

She was bliss personified.

Crossing a leg over the other on that worn, tawny loveseat in the Undercroft, he skimmed through the pages of the paperback in his hand with his wand. A few feet away from him, she was reducing a couple training dummies into splinters of charred wood, spell after spell rolling off her tongue with ease.

His headstrong little witch. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips at how powerful she was, admiration swelling in his chest.

After getting her fix of dueling for the day and craving attention, she made her way over to him, sitting beside him, although more accurately, practically sitting on top of him. Not that he minded.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she looked up at him expectantly, and because he’d give her absolutely anything her little heart desired, he tucked his book away immediately and turned his focus towards her, pecking a kiss to her cheek. She smiled in satisfaction.

He had the tiniest inkling of a feeling that maybe he was spoiling her rotten. Not that he minded that, either.

“Tired?”

She shook her head. “Just missed you.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek and couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “Did you now?”

She nodded, staring down at his lips as she leaned in to press her mouth against his. Simple and natural and easy. It was a wonder how normal it seemed, as if it was something they’d always done.

Her tongue brushed against his bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and of course he obliged, because who was he to deny her anything?

He could feel the little exhale of breath against his cheek as his tongue met hers, feel the way she instinctively pressed more against him as if she wanted to mold herself to his very bones.

He loved having her like this.

Eager and passion-filled, her magic thrumming in her veins with a little added intensity, reflected in the way she kissed him, in the way she touched him.

She broke away for air, but he couldn’t help the desire to have more. He trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses over her jaw, down the length of her neck. He’d never kissed her there and he found himself particularly interested in exploring. She positively melted under his ministrations.

“Ominis,” She sighed his name on a breathy pant and the sound coursed straight to his groin, tugging at that aching desire in his gut, that heated, twisty, starved feeling that was always there when he touched her, lingering someone hidden, nursing it into something insatiable.

She reconnected her mouth to his and stoked that flickering flame inside him until it was red-hot and all-consuming.

He tangled his fingers through her hair and explored her mouth with a deliberate slowness. Languid, syrupy drags of his tongue against hers. Hot, needy breaths shared in a space between them that was far too little and far too much at the same time.

A gasp died on his tongue when she shifted in her seat to press herself even more against him, effectively straddling his lap, impatience dripping down her spine. He went rigid.

“Hold on, don’t—” His fingers dug into her waist to still her, but she had already dragged her hips flush against his, right against that aching stiffness in his trousers. His face blanched, mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

She held her bottom lip between her teeth, processing the feeling of him, a very specific part of him, pressed right to the gusset of her knickers, right under her skirt. It was like someone had stricken a match, lit her nerves on fire.

She shook her head, her cheeks hot. “Don’t apologize,” She smoothed her thumb over his cheek, reassuring. “I want you, too. I want this.” She shifted minutely, tentative, right against that throbbing part of him.

His brows knit together, looking almost pained. “Gods, you can’t say things like that.”

“It’s true,” She whispered, shifting against him again, deliciously slow. The slightest roll of her hips. It was enough to ruin him completely. “Please, Ominis.”

He nodded then, forehead pressed against hers, fists white-knuckled in the starched linen of her shirt. He let his hands fall to his sides, onto the tattered pillows of the loveseat and sighed.

“Not here.” He planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You deserve something nicer.”

Ominis’ dorm was certainly nicer.

Clean and tidy to the point of almost being manic, just as she imagined it would be. She glanced over at the surrounding beds and noticed his side strikingly bare in comparison, devoid of the clutter of Quidditch posters, junk and other memorabilia that you would normally expect to find in a teenage boy’s room.

His sheets were crisp and neatly-pressed, and laid back against his pillows, she could pick up the faint smell of vanilla and bergamot and, most strikingly, him.

He hovered over her there, his hands on either side of her head on the pillowcase, a pink flush dusting his cheekbones, uncertain. She found it awfully endearing.

“Have you ever…?”

He shook his head, sheepish. “No.”

She nodded.

A gnawing feeling clawed itself inside his chest, something marred and ugly and possessive, a jealousy he knew he probably had no right to feel. “Have…you?”

She shook her head. “Never.”

His brows furrowed, confusion and surprise and a faint sense of relief etched into his features. “Really? You and Sebastian never…?”

She sputtered. “Me and Sebastian?”

“Er…yes? I assumed you two had already been—”

“Dear gods, no,” She laughed, as if the mere notion were hysterical. She looked at him bewildered. “Where on earth did you ever get that impression?”

“I don’t know, you’re both always spending so much time together.”

“As friends.” She choked. “If I’m being completely honest, I’ve always harbored a bit of a crush on you.”

It was his turn to sputter. “On me?”

She smiled. “Yes, it’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I’m surprised Sebastian’s never told you. He’s tormented me about it since the moment he found out.”

Ominis winced and let his head fall forward, voice muffled in the collar of her shirt. “Gods, I’ve been such an idiot.”

“Well, that’s only natural,” She teased, raking her nails softly through the hair on his nape. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

He picked his head up. “So, I…we could’ve been doing this, so much sooner?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Been wanting to get into my pants for very long, have you, Ominis?”

He groaned. “That’s not what I meant,” She watched as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. “I’ve liked you for quite a while.”

“Have you?” She grinned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He murmured. “A bit of pining was good for me. Humbling.”

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not very used to not getting what you want, hm?”

“Mmh,” He hummed, non-committal, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Terribly spoiled, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t hold that against you, either.”

She laced her fingers behind his neck, tugging him forward to bring his lips down to hers again. Ominis could barely contain the euphoric feeling of relief in his chest, of completion, of blissful satisfaction in knowing the witch underneath him was his and only his.

He let his hands wander, explore, caress, tugging her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and running his hands over the creamy smooth expanse of her stomach. He let his lips roam with just as much fervor, trailing down the length of her neck, scraping biting kisses over her collarbone, over the soft curves of her jaw.

“Take this off me,” She pleaded in between kisses, breathless, and he would be a fool if he didn’t immediately oblige. Slender, deft fingers turned clumsy and unpracticed in the heat of the moment, fumbling over buttons and the zipper of her skirt with a lot more lack of finesse than he was used to doing most things in life. His heart was pounding too loud in his ears for him to care.

If she was anything she was impatient, and he quickly learned this impatience would be the very bane of his existence, as she proceeded to grind her hips up to meet his every time he tried to pause and regain some level of composure.

She seemed to take a form of sick gratification in the way he’d curse under his breath at the feeling of the soaked fabric of her knickers, rubbing back and forth against that stiff, aching part of him, nearly bringing him to completion.

He crawled down her body before she could torture him any longer, hooking his fingers into the hem of her knickers and tugging it down to pool at her ankles. He left a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses in his descent, dragging his tongue down the line of her sternum, slow and deliberate.

She tensed. “You don’t have to—”

“Please,” He nosed at the soft curve of her stomach, his breath warm against her skin, eyes half-lidded behind blonde eyelashes. “I want to. Please let me.”

Her voice was quiet, anticipated. “Okay.”

It was all he needed to kiss her there, lips pressed to her dripping core, sucking just slightly, tentatively, just enough to make her gasp. His tongue was velvety smooth, purposefully slow, as if savoring it, savoring her.

“Tastes good,” He murmured against her cunt in a hum, lips sticky and glistening, voice hoarse and gravely with want. “Tastes s’good. Mmh.”

She couldn’t stifle her moans as he lapped at her firmer then, more focused, dragged the tip of his tongue and swirled it around that sensitive little bundle of nerves he had already deduced made her hips writhe and her hands tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading.

He didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but Ominis prided himself on being a very intuitive learner — and there was no better lesson than her nails raking over his scalp and her mewls muffled against the back of her hand every time he evidently did something right with his tongue. In this more than anything, he was determined to get all O’s.

“Oh, gods, Ominis,” She breathed out, and that was all it took for him to break, for him to push two fingers inside her cunt, wrap his lips around her clit, and suck. Hard, until her toes curled at either side of his hips on the bedding, and her head was thrown back onto the pillows, and she was repeating please, please, please like a prayer — as if she’d ever have to beg him for anything.

He pulled her over the edge with a groan against her cunt, fingers pressing into that little spot on her walls that made her vision white over with stars, melting her muscles into a puddle of ecstasy. Coaxed her through it, lapping at the wetness until she was reduced to shudders and breathy, shaky pants.

“You’re so beautiful,” He climbed over her, chest heaving, pressing kisses to her cheeks. He rambled praises, utterly sapless, euphoric, and if she didn’t know any better she’d think he was coming down from the high of his own orgasm with how giddy he sounded. “Oh my gods, you’re so unbelievably perfect. Sounded so good — tasted so good, fuck. You’re just—”

She kissed him then, not minding that she could taste herself on his tongue. Slow and sweet, her head dizzy with endorphins. He liked her like this.

Reaching down between them, she ran her hand down the placket of his briefs, palmed the evidence of his arousal, reveled in the way his lips faltered against hers. She dipped her fingers past the elastic of his waistband, and the whimper he let out when she finally wrapped her hand around him was nothing short of depraved.

“Want to be inside of you,” He pleaded, his hips rutting of their own accord against her palm, warm and slick with desire, a sticky bead of pre-cum pooling at the tip. He felt so thick in her hand. “Please, want— want it so bad.”

He couldn’t bear the restriction any longer, tugging his shorts down his thighs, exposing alabaster skin and flushed pink and so much of him she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

He notched himself at her entrance, lips hovering over hers, asking for permission without words, and all she could do was fervently nod to keep herself from begging.

He laced his fingers with hers as he slowly pushed in, gasps shared between their lips, foreheads pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him closer, urging him for more.

His voice was wrecked when he spoke. “Is this — am I hurting you? Is this alright?”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect —you feel so perfect.”

He groaned, surging forward to capture her lips in his, pouring every ounce of devotion and adoration into the way his tongue brushed against hers, as he slowly rocked his hips, in and out, cautious, shallow thrusts.

“Please, more,” She whispered, quiet, needy, and he couldn’t help but oblige. He bottomed out inside of her, his head falling to her shoulder, and eased his hips back to meet hers with a sharp thrust.

She was overwhelmed by the novel and absolutely foreign feeling of being so full. That dull sting where he was stretching her out around him, that pleasurable ache where he was pressing up into her walls — it was all revoltingly delicious. She never wanted it to stop.

“Christ, you’re — fuck,” Her fingers wrapped around his bicep for support, nails digging little crescent-shaped marks into his skin. “You’re so deep—oh my gods, please move, please, please move,”

He was half-convinced he’d cut out his own beating heart in that moment and present it to her if she asked. He braced himself with his fingers splayed warm and broad on her hip, holding maybe a bit too tightly, and fucked into her with steady, deep thrusts, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She gasped, his cock pressing deep into that sensitive spot inside of her. She could feel that winding knot behind her navel being pulled taut, being stretched tighter and tighter until she felt like she might break. “Like that, just like that — fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

Ominis had by no means a dirty mouth, was never, ever crass by an definition of the word, but hearing her pleading in his ear, feeling her squeeze so tightly around him, slick and warm and utterly divine — he couldn’t stop the endless litany spilling from his mouth, delirious from how good she felt as he thrust into her thoroughly, his self-restraint slipping out of him like grains of sand through open fingers.

“You’re so perfect. My angel, oh my gods, all mine. Mine, mine, mine. Gorgeous, so gorgeous, you’re so tight, so tight around me. Fuck, I can’t stop, I can’t — I need —I need you, I love this, I love this so much, fuck, fuck, fuck, I love this, I love—”

His words died on a strangled moan as he finished inside of her, pumping into her until he pulled her over the edge along with him, electrifying her nerve-endings into bliss. He pressed his lips to hers like he needed her to breathe, like the only oxygen he desired was the ones she would give him from her very own lungs.

She spoke first, dazed. “That was—”

He let out a laugh, soft and pleasure-rough, the slightest bit drowsy. “Amazing. Brilliant. You’re absolutely brilliant.”

She returned his gleaming smile with her own, teasing.

“You’ve only just noticed?”

It took one look. The raucous bustle of other students still disembarking around him, yet his attention was trained on his two friends smiling and waiting up for him.

His eyes darted between the two, briefly combing over the faint bites of purple on her neck that was peeking out just slightly from beneath the green and silver of her scarf, then finally dipped to where their hands were surreptitiously clasped behind layers of cloaks, and he immediately knew.

Sebastian dropped his suitcase on the weathered boards of the dock with a thunk and ran up to clap his hands on his friends’ shoulders with a sly smile and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Fucking took you two long enough.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagine

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ktarology · 5 months ago

Text

on the table ♡ miya atsumu x gn!reader (a little angsty)

Atsumu swore he never looked so stupid. Wearing a red felt headband with glitter-covered hearts sticking out from the band on silver springs because Hinata said it was a part of the dress code for his valentines day party. Then, he found himself standing in front of your door, in the same headband, flowers he borrowed from Hinata's table decoration in hand, and he has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole as much as he does now.

He feels like this is a setup, a joke for the guys to laugh at while they’re in the car waiting for him as he makes a fool of himself trying to get closure from his ex, on Valentine’s day of all days.

Maybe you weren’t going to answer the door if you see him through the peephole, or you're out on a date with someone who can treat you better than he did, someone who didn’t have to make excuses for not spending enough time with you. All the possibilities as to why you still haven’t answered your door after three knocks went circles in his head.

Atsumu turned around to look at the parked car and shook his head. Suna rolled down the window and Hinata poked his head out of it, “BROOO YOU GOT THIS!!” he said, Bokuto wolf-whistled and pumped his fist as they attempted to hype up their friend. Atsumu didn’t even notice you standing in the doorway until the wolf-whistling stopped and Bokuto and Hinata slid down their seats to duck and hide from you.

“Everything okay out here?”

Atsumu nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. He had planned out what he was going to say to you, and then his mind drew blanks when he turned around and saw you. All the planning he had done sitting in the car, making up scenarios of you rejecting him or you jumping into his arms and even had Suna pretend to be you, had all gone to waste.

He stood there dumbfounded and watched as you furrowed your eyebrows and leaned your head against the door frame waiting for him to say something.

He got out of his head and realized it was now or never, “These are for you”, he said as he offered you the bouquet.

As you accepted the bouquet he felt the weight on his shoulders lift a little. He was not one to be overly nervous but seeing you did a number on him.

He cleared his throat, “Can I come in?”

You hesitantly nodded and made room for him to come in. Atsumu hadn’t been to your place since he walked out. He couldn’t help to feel guilty as he noticed the changes in your living room.

The knitted throw blanket you kept on the arm of the couch he used to wrap around you two while you watched tv was no longer there, the msby letterman jacket he gave you to keep yourself warm while he walked you home from a date used to stay on the coatrack by the door, was nowhere to be seen.

He took a seat on your couch and noticed you scooched over the opposite way. He let out a small laugh and rubbed his palms against his thighs even though the motion did hurt him deep down.

As you two sat in silence for a minute you took it upon yourself to break it, “You gonna tell me what’s going on? Or am I going to have to imagine the worst-case scenario?”. He did show up on your porch unexpectedly, after all, the least he could do was say why.

Atsumu took inhaled deeply, alright you came here for a reason he said to himself.

He turned to completely face you, “I think we’ve- well I made a mistake, and there are some things we both have to say to each other, and we should just...put it all on the table.”

He watched as you shifted in your seat and placed a pillow in your lap, something you always did when you felt on defense. He began to regret showing up here and trying to revive the relationship you had. He felt selfish, coming into your safe space because he wanted you back, but he had to know if you felt the same.

You took a deep breath and huffed, “Alright, let’s lay it out.”

Atsumu took a few seconds to gather his thoughts, he had one more chance and he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

He scooted over closer to you and took your hands into his, “I know that when we broke up, we both agreed it was for the better. I thought that giving you the chance and space to date other people was the right thing. I was wrong. And I’ll admit that I’m being selfish, I’ll proudly label myself as selfish when it comes to you.”, he paused and took a breath as he figured out what to say next.

With as much confidence he has on the court and with everything else he does, you never would’ve expected to find Atsumu as tongue-tied as he is now. The once flamboyant and show-off about himself who could go on forever talking about anything, now struggled to find the right words to say to you.

“What I’m trying to say is, we should give it another shot. If you’ve already moved on, I’ll back off but if you haven’t, I’m still here.” He held your hands a little tighter as he awaited your response.

You tried to move on, you really did. He suggested it after all. Dating other people didn’t seem that bad until you found yourself comparing everyone to him. Others had more time to give you but no one could give you the same feelings he did.

Maybe you were being a bit mean, putting everyone on the scale from 1 to Atsumu, never really giving anyone a chance to replace him. And what would be the point of trying to find someone to replace him, when you could actually have him?

“Not trying to interrupt ya deep thoughts or anything, but ya know I’m still here right?”

You quickly got out of your head and gathered your thoughts to answer him, “I tried the whole dating thing. It didn’t really work out. I guess I found myself wondering if we could make us work rather than trying to work things out with someone else. And I think...we can.”

Before you could even finish off telling him you wanted to give your relationship a second chance, he had lifted you off the couch, spun you around, and pressed kisses all over your face.

“I..promise..I..will..do..everything..to..make..this..work..” he said between each kiss.

You laughed at how each one tickled and when he finally stopped spinning you around. “Okay okay, before I get dizzy.” He put you back down on your feet.

“Couldn’t contain it any longer, I’ve missed you” Atsumu said as he took your face into his palm. He leaned in to kiss you, and then his headband slid down his face. “I should’ve given this back to Shoyo before I came in,” he huffed.

You readjusted the headband, “ ‘m think it’s cute. You gonna tell them they don’t have to sit in front of my house anymore?”

“They’ll be alright”, he took the headband off his head and placed it onto yours, “it’s cuter on you though.”

a/n this is a repost from my ao3 ! i know vday has already passed :PPPP

#𝜗𝜚writings #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #msby x reader #hq atsumu #atsumu fluff #haikyuu

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illubean · 4 months ago

Note

Hi can I get a nsfw scenario where Chrollo gently seduces the reader during her first time and discovers she has a praise kink? I feel like this man would be literal god tier to have

Gentle Praise

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: NSFW, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, College!au because I'm a sucker for scholar Chrollo

mueheheh >:) reader is a lil shy and awko taco in this but not like cringe stereotypcial "omg im so shyy >.<" type also this ended up being super long thus turning a scenario into a full fic oopsies

Warnings: maybe ooc Chrollo idk, mentions of alcohol, he calls y/n princess a few times, praise (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), reader discretion is advised

Chrollo isn't quite sure how you ended up in a setting like this. You were a pretty little thing with a look so elegant you look almost out of place at one of Uvo's rowdy house parties.

The bright LEDs, loud music and cheap beers didn't seem like your kind of scene. But there was no way for Chrollo to know that for sure.

You stood off to the side near the snack table, slowly nursing your cup of jungle juice that you didn't care much for. You had only taken it from your friend since you felt rude to turn it down. Said friend of yours was currently having the time of their life. They were plastered, dancing through the crowd of bodies and mingling with other drunk partygoers.

You're not too sure why you even came to this party. You much preferred small gatherings, and you don't even like alcohol all that much. You sighed, awkwardly scanning the room until your eyes met a pair of onyx orbs. They belonged to a face you knew all too well.

Chrollo Lucilfer.

He was a year or so older than you, a psychology major. You've seen him around campus and even though he was well known for mostly good reasons, your friends still teased you for finding him attractive. Perhaps you had stared at him for a bit too long though, seeing as a smirk made its way onto his face as he got up to approach you.

You panicked a little, looking around awkwardly seeking a quick escape. You placed your cup down but before you could flee, a voice came from in front of you.

"Hey Y/n."

Oh my god he knows my name.

You managed to spit out a response, feeling your hands get clammy as you looked into his eyes. You were completely and utterly helpless. This man managed to reduce you to nothing but a nervous, sweaty mess simply by just existing. It was kind of pathetic.

But the man responsible didn't think so. Chrollo thought it was cute how awkward you got, not being able to hold eye contact and wiping your hands on your clothes. He was no fool, and he knew exactly what effect he had on you. As a matter of fact he had this effect on quite a few people, though none of them stood out to him like you did.

He would be lying if he said he'd never thought of you in a romantic setting before. You were a cute (your choice) major who he often seen walking around with Machi. From what he's seen, you're not so much of a partier and prefer to focus on your actual studies than crazy frat gatherings. Maybe your more mellow and reserved nature is what drew him towards you.

"I didn't peg you as the party type," he says, breaking you from your previous daze.

"Oh, I'm not. My friend over there dragged me here."

You pointed into the crowd towards said friend, who was currently standing on top of a coffee table, a bottle of some sort of strong liquor in hand as the people around them cheered them on.

Note to self: make sure they get home safe

Chrollo chuckled at the deadpan look on your face after you saw how drunk your friend really was.

"Seems like they're having fun. Why don't we sneak off somewhere more quiet?"

You felt the tip of your ears burn at his offer before quickly nodding as he led the way.

Leaving the loud, hot and crowded living room AND spending time alone with Chrollo? Score!

He took one of your hands into his own, placing the other on the small off your back, leading you past all of the other partygoers and up a flight of stairs. He led you into a rather plain room, shutting the door before letting go of your hand and flopping down to lay on the bed.

"Is it ok that we're in here?" you ask, not wanting to disrespect someone else's house.

"This is my friend Shalnark's room but he's rarely ever home. I crash here sometimes so I don't think he minds."

At his words you hesitantly and awkwardly sit on the corner of the bed, facing away from Chrollo. You had no clue what to do now. The both of you were silent for a while, the light thump of the distant music being the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

After a few moments pass, Chrollo sits up and moves closer to you, leaning in order to make eye contact.

"You don't have to be so awkward around me, y'know? I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

You look away in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from the man before you, who only chuckles and grabs both of your hands.

"You get flustered so easily, how adorable."

One of his hands reaches up to the side of your face to turn you towards him. His beautiful onyx orbs were glazed over in what you could only describe as a mix of admiration and lust.

Oh.

Chrollo began leaning closer, you doing the same. Naturally, your eyes started to close as the two of you got closer.

Closer.

Then he stopped.

You sat there in anticipation for a moment but nothing came. You opened your eyes and furrowed your brows in confusion, only to find Chrollo already staring back at you with a small smile on his face.

"Is this okay?"

You gave him a frantic nod, a quiet yet rushed 'yes' leaving your mouth. At the confirmation the man pressed a searing kiss into your lips, gently caressing the apple of your cheek as you reached your arms out to embrace him.

His touch was gentle, yet burning with the passion of a thousand suns as he led you to lay across the bed. His large hands slipped underneath your shirt, softly caressing your lower back and waist as he continued his assault on your mouth.

You whimper softly into the heated kiss, feeling your skin practically burn where his body came in contact with yours. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you breathless as he carefully removes both your shirt and bra.

Chrollo takes a moment to take in the sight of you, panting and topless beneath him. He swore he would brand this image into the back of his mind for the rest of his days, never wanting to forget how beautiful you were in this very moment.

"God, you're gorgeous."

His hands begin roaming your body once again as he planted searing, open mouth kisses along your neck and collarbone. You couldn't help but writhe under his touch, soft but needy noises leaving your lips. His words had an affect so strong on you that was unexpected.

Chrollo's hand trailed down the front of your body, slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. Two off his fingers gently prodded at your entrance, before trailing back up to swirl around your clit. You clenched your thighs with a gasp, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

"Who knew my pretty girl would be so sensitive," he coos. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

A violent shiver shot down your spine and into your core. God, if he kept talking like this you might just be able to cum from his words alone. You whimpered, arms tightening around him to pull him impossibly close. He chuckled sofly, planting a few kisses across your face before pulling away completely.

Before you could whine in protest, Chrollo pulled off the clothing left on your bottom half. He settled himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he faced your glistening heat. He looked up at your through his eyelashes before speaking again.

"You doing alright, princess?"

You nodded, face flushed at the nickname. But this didn't seem to be enough of a response for Chrollo.

"You're going to have to use your words, beautiful."

"Yes! God, yes just please...continue."

He chuckles at your desperation before licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy. This draws a trembled moan out of you, which only egged him on further. He buried his face impossibly deep into your cunt, going down on you like a man starved while you reached down to grip his hair. He eased two of his fingers into you as your body writhed with pleasure.

He pulls away from you momentarily, eyes flicking between the sight of his lithe fingers plunging into you and the flushed expression across your face. He felt your walls flutter around him which caused him to smirk up at you.

"You're getting close, aren't you? Go ahead, make a mess for me."

He dove back into your core, determined to make you cum. His lewd words sent you over the edge, having brought you to your first climax of the night. He sits up, making eye contact with you as he licks your juices off of his two digits.

He crawled back up the mattress so now you were both face to face, arms bracing himself on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to meet you in a heated kiss. You could care less that the taste of yourself lingered on his lips. All you could think about is how Chrollo is all yours right now.

After kissing you for a few moments longer, he pulls away from you to hastily remove his clothes. Your eyes followed his movements, starting at his toned chest and moving down his abs. There was a light happy trail that peeked out above the waist band of his boxers. Finally, he hooks his fingers beneath it and drags them down his hips and oh.

He was huge.

Your eyes widened as you took in all of Chrollo's naked glory, his pretty cock standing thick and girthy. His balls sat below it, heavy and full.

How the hell would that ever fit?

The man you had been gawking at chuckles before gently prodding your entrance with his fat tip.

"Don't worry, you can take it. I know you can."

Your heart pulsed at this, heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, embarassed.

"Nervous, sweetheart?"

He leaned down closer to you to plant a reassuring kiss on your cheek, trailing them down your neck and along your collarbone.

"...this is my first time," you admit bashfully, moaning at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"I'll just have to take extra care of you then."

He pushes himself into you, the plush walls of your heat stretching to wrap around him. He continues to kiss you through it as you pull your bodies impossibly close to each other. After sheathing himself completely into your pussy he begins to trust into you, slow and sensual.

He only picks up the pace after feeling your body relax, his thick shaft stretching you deliciously well and hitting all the right spots deep within you.

"God, you're perfect. It's like this pussy was made for me," he grunts, fucking himself into you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It didn't take long for Chrollo to reduce you to nothing but a moaning, babbling mess. Not only could he lay pipe like no one's business, but his praising words sent you to heights you didn't know you could ever possibly reach. You felt your eyes well up with tears as you felt your climax approach for the second time that night.

"Chrollo, 'm gonna-"

Your words were cut off with the sound of your own moan, feeling Chrollo's dick brush against your g-spot. Your pussy quivers and clenches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls away.

"Wait for me, sweetheart. Just a little longer, okay?"

You whine, digging your nails into his shoulder blades as he speeds up and fucks you with newfound vigor. You couldn't hold back any longer, a white hot flash hitting you like an ocean wave as you cried out Chrollo's name. The man cursed, feeling you clamp around him impossibly tight, bringing him to his climax as well.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, prompting him to burry himself deep in your womb. His cum floods your pussy, making you feel impossibly fullwhile you pant, coming down from your previous high. You let go of him, body going limp against the mattress, absolutely fucked out.

Chrollo pulls out slowly, watching his seed drip from your weeping cunt, breathing heavily at the sight of you. You press your hand against your bloated tummy, causing more of his cum to spill out of you. His cock twitches as this, and he wastes no time in mounting you again.

"I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous."

may or may not have gotten carried away with this OOPSIESSSS ;p

#hxh 2011 #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #chrollo smut #hxh x you #hxh x y/n #hunter x 2011 #hunter x hunter chrollo #chrollo x reader smut

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appleblueberry-pie · 7 months ago

Note

OOOHHHH, OKAY HERE MY REQUEST FOR YANDERE MILE MORALES SCENARIO! I imagine him being the type of guy to break into the reader's locker and leave a CD(the song is probably cheesy like Radiohead-creep) while leaving a sticky note like “I really, really, like you. And I wanna get to know you more, can you meet at [insert abandoned building here] ❣️”~secret admirer (*cough* it's Miles *cough*) This freaks the reader out, cuz they've been dealing with this bs for 3 months and the authorities can't do shit, can I request the reader confronting their “secret admirer”? 🥺

N/A: I hope you heard me evilly laugh when I first read this. Boutta spill all of my delusions on this. Also i've never written worse luck than the reader had in this one.

Be Mine? Yes or No.

It's about ten minutes before first period begins and you've already spent five of them rereading the 20th love letter you've received over the course of a few months. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you continue to find more and more things to worry about in this letter. You'd think that this person would stop pestering you, but they really weren't. At all whatsoever. The same little sweet names they'd compliment you with. The same main idea they had in the previous note continuing into the next one. This has been happening over and over.

And it was so, so sweet when this fiasco first started. When you first opened your locker and it was placed so nicely in the center as if someone carefully placed it there. It was definitely spritzed with some kind of cologne, because no scent from someone just rubs off onto a letter like that. The beautiful envelope it was put in, the paper on the inside. The neat handwriting that was clearly practiced just to put some love onto the paper for you to hopefully absorb. And it worked the first three times, but it just kept getting weirder from there.

The way they wrote to you was extremely genuine, something that was hard to find in relationships nowadays. It really made you want to meet this person. They mixed in casual sweet names in Spanish into the writing in a way that wasn't hard for you to understand at all. They definitely had a crush on you. But then they began mentioning you in ways that seemed to make you borderline uncomfortable. Mentioning your beautiful hair, your eyes, your lips, the way you spoke, how you smelled. How they'd watch you and your friends in the park. Slipping in a few mentions of you walking to and from a corner store nobody in your school but you knew about.

They would write about how they could help you with specific classes that they knew you were struggling with. What foods they theorized you don't like(they were right), your type of man and how they fit that exact description, if not, more. How he knows he's the one you'd want and need. How the two of you are meant to be, he'd love you the way you need to be loved and he cant wait to actually meet you. How he'd bring you to the address of your favorite breakfast spot that no one should know about and he'd buy you that plate you always wanted to get that you couldn't afford. How he'd spoil you and-

All of this tension he built up on his own, which was all fueled by his own delusions, drew you to the conclusion that this nigga needed to be put in his place. You wanted a boyfriend. Not a fucking perverted stalker. Whoever this was, he was taking it too far, and was ultimately scaring you. It took you fifteen of these letters for you to realize that he wasn't actually slipping the letter into the locker between the cracks, but he was putting in the real code of your lock to properly unlock it. How he found it out, you have no idea. You didn't know what this guy was capable of and didn't know if he'd hurt you if you said no. But it had to be done somehow or he'd take shit too far and kidnap you or some crazy shit like that.

None of the school officials would help you because they're pieces of shit. Your friends tell you to bag him like dumbasses, and what the fuck are your parents gonna do? Yell at the dean and stand by your locker all day to wait for the guy?? You were all alone in this. So the most reasonable thing you came up with is to bluntly write to him to meet you after school at the park you and your friends go to often since he knows the spot already.

And quite literally the day after, you sat at the bench at the park after school, and he showed up.

You remember being so damn scared. What if he was big and burly and angry? What if he was one of the popular boys and would record the entire interaction? What if he follows you back home? What does he plan to do once you try to tell him off? You shouldn't have done this. The setting sun wasn't comforting you. The abandoned playground that usually was bustling with squealing kids was just making you more nervous. It was silent and cold today, but your mind just wouldn't shut up. Suddenly, the school uniform you wore wasn't as comfortable and you clutched your backpack closer to your body.

The wind blew gently on your bare knees and you heard someone call out your name. You flinched and felt your heart drop and turned to see the source of the voice, hoping for the worst. There was a boy sitting on a bench right next to yours. He was staring at you. It made you feel....unsettled and something else you couldn't put your finger on. To calm yourself, you listed his characteristics in his head. He was....reasonably attractive. Light brown eyes. Sculpted face. A light Spanish accent to his voice exactly how you'd imagine. Neat braids on his head. But something about his aura messed with you. He wasn't as good as he portrayed himself to be. You didn't want to speak and watched him stand from his spot to sit next to you on your bench. You clutched your bag to your chest as you watched him try to calmly approach you without making you too nervous.

With nervous eyes on him, he sits down next to you, letting a small smile grace his lips. "Hey, ma...how you doin'?" He sounded like he was trying to lure a scared dog into his arms. But it was awkward because he was trying to act normal with his dream girl and it was an actual human being and not a dog. "....fine." You respond. He scratches his nape and averted his eyes for a quick second. He really wanted to know why you wanted to talk to him. You gave no context within your letter, and it was a blessing, nonetheless. You actually responded to him. He predicted that he wouldn't get one for another good three weeks to two months almost. But this must be serious. He prepared himself for all possible scenarios that this could end up being.

"So....why'd you want to meet all of a sudden? It's getting late and I don't want you going home in the dark, you know?" You nod and take a deep breath, scared as fuck for how this could end. "Yeah.....so....I just wanted to tell you that I just- I don't want to be with you." It felt like you had to pull the words out of your throat for him to hear. You saw his face drop and decided to explain before he did anything else. "Like....I don't know you. I just realized that. You know so much about me and about my friends and the places I go to. I don't know a damn thing- Are you stalking me??" You turn to face him and stare into his wide eyes. He almost seemed as if he was caught doing some weird shit. And it was weird.

The silence started to make you angry when you realized he probably has been following you all this time. He shakes his head and sits up. "No...no, I haven't been stalking you at all, ma, I promise. I never want to make you uncomfortable, ever. Where are you getting that?" Oh, so now he's gaslighting you. If you brought all of his envelopes to this meeting, you would've dumped all of the evidence on his lap. You roll your eyes, grab your bag, and stand to leave. He stands at the same time as you when he sees you're trying to leave and stands in your way. "Wait, wait, wait, that's it? You not gon' give me a chance?" "A chance? Nigga, you lost your chance when you started being weird and fucking acting like you wasn't being weird this entire time!"

It was hard to get mad at you or reason with you. You were too pretty to get mad at even when you were nearly yelling in his face. And he had no logical reason to behave the way he was behaving, either. So, he might lose you unless he does something risky. And to risk your trust and love is something he doesn't want on the line.

You watch him watch you leave and he picks up his bag as well. The street lights turn on once it gets dark enough and Miles interrupts you walking away. "I'm not letting you walk home in the dark, Y/n." You flinch at his voice and growl a groan in fuming anger. An older lady passes the both of you and praises the mystery boy for being such a good gentleman and how 'there needs to be more of you out on these streets'. You almost slapped the fuck out of her for even hyping him up. He gives her a beautiful smile and tells her to get home safe, while walking you in the direction of your home.

He turns back to you and almost laughs at the face you're making. "I wonder how your mom would feel about you going home in the dark." "Mind yo fucking business." He happily leaves it there, continuing to walk with you down the street. Maybe this way, he can have more than one excuse to continue walking you home from now on. "Ion even know yo name." You mutter under your breath and Miles smiles at you. "My name is Miles. Great to finally meet you in person, Mami." You scoff and gladly let him scroll on his phone. You tried to speed ahead of him in hopes he'd stay at his slower pace, but he always caught up to you. You inwardly groan, knowing he'd probably make it to your door before you get rid of him.

"Glad to know the name of the person who's been stalking me. Now I can report you officially." You smirk at him and he gives one right back. "Just a name won't cut it, ma." "I got photos." "Where?" He hands you your phone back and you snatch it, realizing he was scrolling on your phone the whole time AND deleted your photo evidence. Before you can shove him into the street for a car to run him over, your mom bursts the door open and eyes the boy next to you. "Girl, you finally brought someone home with you." You didn't even realize you were on your street, better yet, your house. And your mom liked him already??

Your face dropped as you approached the front door. "No, no, no, it's not like that-" "What's your name, sweetie?" Miles steps up to the door and holds out his hand for her to shake, a beaming smile on his face. "My name is Miles Morales, ma'am." She shakes his hand before scrunching her eyebrows. " 'Morales'? You know Rio??" "That's my mamá, right there." Horrifying, how quickly a new relationship between the two bloomed right before your eyes as they continued to converse.

How are you going to get out of this? Your stalker is making great friends with your mom, no one can help because he deleted the evidence, and you would soon find out the next morning at school that your locker was clean of envelopes as well. Nothing was working in your favor and you realized that there was no way to escape. He included himself into your life so easily, when you wanted him out, out, out. You hated this shit, but he seemed to love it, sending you a look of appreciation as you both stepped into your abode.

Miles was so grateful for having you as a part of his life. The stars aligned and allowed you both a chance at beauty and growth. He wouldn't let this opportunity waste away like he had done many times in the past. You were his chance at redemption for all of the things he had done and the things that he planned to do later on. You were finally his.

#miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles x reader #42 miles #yandere earth 42 miles morales x reader #yandere earth 42 miles morales #yandere miles morales #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #yandere miles x reader #yandere miles morales x reader

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onestepbackwards · 5 months ago

Text

Love that Bites Pt. 13

IT'S DONE AAAA Sorry this took so long, I have had a rough few months, it's made it hard to write and focus. BUT! This chapter is at least 8000 words to make up for it! I hope you enjoy!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: Despite what he had hoped, Dracula has decided to spring a talk of 'business' with you earlier than he had intended. He anticipates it to end in disaster, destroying what little peace you both had. However, he finds things might not end like he presumes...

CW: Anxiety, talks of depression, allusions to abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of sexist behavior, brief mentions of injury

Word Count: 8039 Words!

Like my work? Please consider supporting me here! Link

Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Tag List: @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here

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Dracula, if he were being honest with himself, had dread when this day would come.

Deep down, he knew eventually you two would have to talk. There was no getting around it, no avoiding it forever.

After all, you were still a Belmont, and he was King of the Night.

He had known this talk would come before he eventually had been freed. How you mentioned wishing to talk instead of immediately engaging in battle.

However, he would admit that a small part of him looked forward to this, especially before he had been freed from his stone prison.

Back then, he could not help but imagine different scenarios of himself and you discussing the future. This primarily was before he had got to know you a little bit more with each ‘visit’.

Before you broke the curse on him, he had planned on using this talk to gouge your own plans, and see just what kind of a Belmont you really were.

Would you be all bark and no bite? Or was the idea of wanting to talk really just a guise to make yourself more high and mighty than him? Another ‘holier than thou’ spiel he had heard countless times throughout history, and still managing to condemn him?

Perhaps it was even a trick to try and lower his guard? Just to attack like a snake on unsuspecting prey?

Not that he would have let his guard down that easy in the beginning, of course…

Other questions though still had run through his mind at the time as he slowly grew to know you in his imprisonment.

Were you really different? Did a small bit of Leon still persist despite the generations of Belmonts? Was it truly kindness that shone bright in those tired eyes of yours?

It certainly wasn’t naïveté, despite what some may think. Those eyes of yours had seen too much to be dull witted. Any kindness you had to give, it was because you chose to, despite knowing the risks.

That kindness, and your interest in asking questions for yourself. That still drew him in.

However, as time went on, it became almost alarmingly clear that you were in fact serious about this. How you didn’t particularly want to battle him, at least not without hearing him out personally.

No power play here, no desire to put yourself above him while seemingly giving the vampire a chance.

You were a rarity that Dracula didn’t want to let go. Especially when you were just within his grasp.

Humans like yourself were rare, he didn’t want to just let you slip through his fingers, even if you were a Belmont.

If anything, that made it all the more important to try and sway you to see his side of things.

Or to at least… come to an understanding.

However, Dracula was all too familiar with how finicky fate could be. Should he try and lock you away or strongarm you into staying, he’d simply be pushing you away.

It also didn’t help that the idea of simply holding you hostage didn’t sit well in his gut. The last thing he wanted, (even if he refused to admit it out loud), was for you to hate him for stealing you away.

…He would admit he did consider it, though. Dracula had already lost so much, was it hard to blame him for wanting to protect this Little Belmont who was clearly a hidden gem amongst the rotten trash that was humankind?

Still, he couldn’t afford to risk losing you to his own arrogance. Not like this.

Unfortunately though, you unintentionally threw a wrench into his plans.

Originally, he hoped to have you here for at least a week, if not two. During that time, he planned to gleam who had hurt you, and deal with them swiftly if need be.

All while healing you, and seeing if he could push past a few of your walls.

That way, hopefully when you eventually had to have a talk with him about where you both stood, he had hoped he would have enough information to form a way to convince you to stay.

Alas, things never went to plan for him. Fate seemed to enjoy taunting him that way, it seems.

Despite how receptive you had been to him, and how you accepted his care, you surprised him with what you had to say.

How you could not stay much longer. You had to leave soon.

Your words weighed heavy in his heart. However, it became clear this wasn’t exactly a choice you wanted.

It seemed you were oddly reluctant to even mention why, clearly unhappy and anxious about the idea of going back.

That had alarm bells ringing in his mind.

The Lord of the Night was no fool. When he wasn’t constantly being slain by your ilk, he was a ruler, a leader, and a tactician. Among many other things.

No one lived as long as he, and not pick up on different things about human behavior.

A part of him wanted to puff up in pride. You seemingly wanted to stay.

But that was unfortunately a double edged sword, so it seemed.

Sure, you were receptive to his care and being his guest, but that was far from being entirely trustworthy and comfortable around him.

…So just how bad was your home life for you to prefer staying at his castle, even after someone already tried to foolishly tamper with your life?

You seemed a bit dodgy when he delicately prodded about your home life. However, the less you said, the more of a picture it seemed to paint.

No words had to be said for him to assume the worst. The wounds you had must have been from wherever you resided outside his castle.

Yet you stubbornly refused to give him details. Even if you were different from your ancestors, you were still very much a stubborn Belmont.

It would be endearing, if not for the fact he worried about your safety the moment you left his property.

And the fact he had to have this conversation with you now, rather than when he would have liked. He had at least hoped you would be in a better physical and mental state before he sprung this talk on you.

After all, you both couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever. One of you would either have to give and declare war, or… Perhaps meet halfway.

Even though he hoped for the best, Dracula was well aware this may end in disaster. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be too explosive.

He’d like to at least fight you on even ground with respect, like you had wished to do for him.

The last thing he wanted was to fight you as you looked up at him, clearly still incredibly injured, despite what the potions have done for you so far. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he knew that you would no doubt leave with permanent damage if you managed to win.

And if he were being honest, Dracula didn’t want to deal with the whirlpool of emotions he no doubt will have to suffer from if you choose to try and destroy him.

He may be a prideful man who didn’t like admitting his faults, but he was well aware how badly he handled losing someone last time. He didn’t want to kill you or try to hurt you with his own hand.

So he donned his King of the Night mask. Ready to face the music.

Your reaction to his change in demeanor was instant.

Those wide eyes of yours sharpened, and he could practically see the hair on your neck stand on end. Seems a hunter’s instinct never rests.

It was almost fascinating to watch in real time, if he were being honest with himself. Any Belmont he had faced, almost exclusively were ready to fight him from the get go.

So to see you so subtly shift, as if a snake preparing to strike, or a cat ready to react with a strike of its own…

Dracula would be lying if he didn’t find such a sight interesting, stirring a set of feelings in him he thought he had long since buried. A shame he had to see such a shift when he might become your enemy in mere moments.

The air around you both was tense, and was charged with enough energy Dracula idly wondered if it could charge a light at this rate.

“So,” Dracula began, his voice becoming a bit of a bored drawl, “what exactly do you intend to do now, Little Belmont?”

Your eyes nervously bore into his own, and you swallowed thickly as you sat up straighter.

“What I intend to do?”

Dracula kept his lips from curling up into a grin. He at least would try to hold off from antagonizing you like he would with annoying diplomats from other monster and vampire clans.

“Yes. Forgive me for being rather blunt,” he began, his eyes glowing idly as he watched you for any change in behavior, “-but you know as well as I do, that we can’t just pretend the other doesn’t exist after you leave.”

It was subtle, but he recognized the calculating look on your face after he finished speaking. He wondered what thoughts were flying through your head as you scoured your mind for an answer.

Dracula knew his words had to be thought on, though he also imagined you probably had thought about this long before he had even been freed. Although, imagining what one would say in such a situation, and being in the situation you had imagined didn’t mean things would go as one planned.

You were silent for a moment. Then another.

Dracula didn’t mind, nor did he rush you. Despite his shift in attitude, he didn’t intend to push you to make a choice at that exact moment, even if he did put you on the spot.

Though perhaps, that may just be his thin veiled excuse to keep the peace, just for a little while longer.

After a few more moments, you let out a sigh, and put a hand on top of your head. You averted your eyes from him, and closed them.

“I… I don’t wish to fight you.” you began, almost tentatively. Your hands gripped the blanket nearby, and began to fiddle with it.

“You have been very kind to me since uh… Since you were freed from being a statue. You didn’t have to do that, for me of all humans.”

For a moment, your eyes met his own, and Dracula felt some tension in his body lessen, just ever so slightly.

So you didn’t wish to fight him either. It was one thing to suspect as such, but to hear it from your own mouth relieved him in a way he couldn’t explain. No doubt it also took a lot for you to admit that, to your own destined adversary.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight him. No, it was clear you would if you had to. The words were unspoken, but still there.

Despite this, you were still clearly nervous, your heartbeat pounding hard enough for him to hear in the quiet room.

“I’ll be honest. I… may be a fool for admitting this, but…” you began, your eyes flickering between your whip, which sat next to you on the bed, and Dracula himself.

“...I probably wouldn’t even win. What’s the point, anyway?”

That was indeed surprising to hear from your lips. The way you practically sagged as you admitted such a thing, showing just how tired you really were.

Dracula could see it now. It wasn’t just exhaustion in your eyes from whatever happened to you at your home.

You were tired of life. You were tired of the burden you had on your shoulders. You didn’t have much to fight for, anymore.

Dracula felt those words of yours tear into his heart. They struck a chord with him in a way that was almost unsettling.

“If I fight you, then what? I ‘win’? There’s nothing in it for me. Sure, I save humanity, or whatever-” You say, making finger quotes as you shake your head, “-But then I just end up back home in my own hell hole, no doubt with injuries that can no longer be healed. Then I’d still be expected to keep hunting.”

It was strange, as if a dam had broken within you. Dracula had a feeling this was something that had been building for years. No doubt from when you were a child, thoughts like those had been swimming in your head. Especially after you had lost a parent.

“Plus, what then, you rise again in a century? If even that? I know for a fact sometimes you have risen in half that time. What’s the point then? Just holding off until the next battle until someone else in my family stands up to fight you?”

Blinking quickly, you rubbed one of your eyes with your wrist, clearly trying to hold your emotions in check. The conversation clearly weighed heavy on you when you were already dealing with enough as it is.

He’d admit though, it was surprising to hear this from you.

Some Belmonts seemingly had been eager to seal him away. Either for glory, or the sake of mankind, thinking it a triumphant thing to succeed.

Here, you simply showed the opposite. How cruel fate really was, how winning against him was nothing more than a temporary, hollow victory in the grand scheme of things.

And how those words of yours echoed deep within his own mind. How many times had he been forced to answer the call of humans and other forces since he was killed that first time after Lisa’s death?

Those first few times, he had been vengeful. But after he had fought with his own son one on one, it had become increasingly clear how hollow his life had become.

How far he had sunk since he even lost his own dear Elisabetha.

How he encouraged this lonely life as a vampire after losing his first wife, then grew to detest the cursed cycle he had been put in after his second wife was murdered.

Fated to be the monster talked about in folk tales to keep children from misbehaving, only to reappear due to the whims of Chaos and Order. Cursed to be revived, when after all these centuries, he had finally wanted to rest.

He was tired too.

At least he was living in the hole he had dug for himself. He had no one to blame other than his own self and actions.

But there was a strange pang of sympathy for you in his chest. His actions were his own doing, but you? Your family was doomed because of both him, and your ancestor who created his whole clan just to slay him and his kind.

You were born to slay him, for better or for worse. Raised to kill him, and if he didn’t appear, raise a child in your family to kill him in your stead.

Did you even get to live a life of your own? Dracula doubted you could, unless you completely cut all ties, probably having to go as far as to change your own name.

After all, any Belmont was free game, regardless if they hunted or not. If there was a chance someone was related to a hunter, let alone a Belmont, beasts and monsters would hunt them for sport.

He would say at least you had your own family to support you. In the past, that seemed to be the case.

However… If your own family treated you like the dirt they walked on…

No wonder you were tired.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension having morphed from something tense and anxious, to somber and dreary.

“May I ask you a question?”

Dracula was almost startled by your voice, and how soft it had gotten. You were now looking out the window, watching as rain had begun to fall. A rolling thunder was heard off in the distance.

He wondered if that was due to the castle, or from him from the dull ache in his chest.

“You may.”

Dracula was also surprised by how his own voice had softened. He prepared himself to act like The King of the Night, yet here he was, already unable to stay cold and curt with you.

How his icy demeanor had already cracked seeing you so… broken.

It was silent for another moment as you gathered your thoughts.

“Why bother at this point? Is not coming back again and again exhausting? Why keep planning to attack humanity?”

At first, the questions seemed piercing and aggravating, until you finally looked back over at him. Those tired eyes of yours meeting his own.

“No one ever really told me. I have an idea, but… Most of what I know I learned from old journals. I highly doubt things written by a victor are always 100% accurate.”

That familiar, proud warmth stirred in his chest amongst the painful feelings that swirled from old memories.

But this… this is what he had wanted. When was the last time he got to explain his side?

…Though to be fair, he knew he would be seen as wrong, regardless of what he told you. However, it was still nice to at least have a chance to explain, without immediately being called a heartless monster first.

You at least were curious. You wanted to know for yourself, rather than just believe the words of your ancestors without thought.

Truly a marvel for most humans, even now.

Dracula looked over you, and how your eyes still watched him with a wary, curious gleam.

He sighed.

“Several centuries ago, my wife, Lisa, was murdered by humans.” Dracula began, letting himself relax slightly as he began to speak. You, meanwhile, sat up a bit further, clearly interested in what he had to say for himself.

“She insisted I go travel, and that she would be fine in the small home we had built away from the castle. Lisa wished to stay, having pursued the career of a doctor. Taught her everything I know.”

A small smile flickered on his face as he recounted his time with his late wife, though that smile quickly fell back to a frown.

Your eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, and it was as if he could see you calculating in real time what must have happened. No doubt you were already making educated guesses.

“Unfortunately, many didn’t take kindly to her healing others. Even a few of those she treated reported her to the church.”

Eyes widening slightly, a look of sorrow and horror briefly passed over your face. Had he not been paying attention, it would have been easy to miss.

No doubt you had an idea before, but his words were painting a horrific story, even if he hadn’t even said what had happened specifically just yet.

“For a year, she was fine. We occasionally wrote letters to the other, and she would tell me about her different patients. Sometimes how fulfilling it was to be a doctor, something she had dedicated her life to. Other times… She’d mention how her patients weren’t as kind or cooperative.”

Dracula held back a sneer at the reminder. He really should have noticed the signs so much sooner. How he could have avoided her horrible fate if he had just relied on his gut…

“They would groan or complain that she was treating them. How it wasn’t normal for a woman to do man’s work. They would sometimes curse her out or grow aggressive even. Some accepting her treatment while saying vile things about her. Although… My son at the time usually was around to help if things were too violent.”

Recognition flashed in your eyes. Of course you would recognize his son, to some degree, if you didn’t already know him.

There was doubt in his mind however, that you knew his son. Dracula at least liked to think his and Lisa’s son would have stepped in by now to help you if he had an idea of whatever was happening behind closed doors.

Especially given how his son had been insistent on helping the Belmonts throughout the centuries, even if it wasn’t always by choice since it regarded slaying him.

Details.

Though that did make Dracula briefly wonder just where his son was. Had he gone back to resting? Or had he stirred now that he himself was awake and free?

Dracula was no fool. Alucard had a connection to this castle just like he did, even if it wasn’t on the same scale. His son’s powers being from his own would always have a connection to this place, so long as Dracula remained alive.

Those thoughts were pushed back into his mind. He could dwell on such thoughts and speculations later. If he was still alive and this went well, of course.

Clearing his throat, Dracula continued.

“It was nearly the time I was to return home, when it happened. The church and heads of the nearby town seemed to have had ‘enough’ of my wife ‘playing’ healer, despite the fact she had most likely treated someone they knew, if not themselves.”

Anger and irritation began to simmer a bit brighter in his chest as he thought of how his wife had been treated. How alone and scared she must have been that day.

“They came. They saw the instruments we both used for medicinal purposes. Something I believe you would find rather modern, or even old by today’s standards, but at the time…”

You looked up at him then, realization in your eyes.

“They accused her of witchcraft, didn’t they?”

It was more of a statement, then a question.

Dracula could only give you a small nod.

“She was.”

You had a pained look on your face, clearly upset.

“I’m… not surprised.” you began, a bit hesitant.

“Humans fear things they don’t understand. Or things they can’t control. I imagine being a woman, and a doctor who no doubt had a great success rate at that… Add the more modern medicine practices…” you mumbled, eyes looking down to the side as you thought out loud.

Dracula was at least somewhat pleased you were beginning to see the gravity the situation had been. He had no idea what your knowledge of his wife had been, but this no doubt was an eye opener. That is, if you were choosing to believe him.

Given how you were reacting though… he’d like to hope you were. At least you weren’t screaming obscenities at him and calling him a liar and a heathen like some of your ancestors might have.

“Indeed. It… was brutal.”

Your eyes were now back on him, and he mentally cursed as his voice nearly wavered. He wanted to grow angry once more, and yet, a part of him wanted to simply mourn.

When did he last ever get the chance?

“When I arrived at the small home we had shared, all that was left was cinders. She had been taken captive, and I had been informed… She was to be burned at the stake.”

The air was colder, and your body tensed as a growl slowly crept into his voice.

“By the time I had found where they were keeping her…” he began, his voice low, growing strained, “...They burned her, claiming she was a witch. That this was God’s will.”

He could feel his fangs grow just ever so slightly, as well as his claws. Dracula could practically remember the smell of those ashes of that home.

“It was a lie, of course. All of it. They simply wanted her dead, and used all of that as flimsy excuses to placate the town.” he snarled, leaning forward slightly.

Despite the anger clear on his face, you remained steady. You didn’t flinch away like he thought you might, though your eyes were still wide with horror all the same.

Though… he had the feeling it wasn’t horror from seeing him like this. You weren’t scared of the beast threatening to break free from his flesh.

“By the time I located her, she was already burning. Her soul was already beginning to fade. She was gone.”

Dracula leaned back into the chair, his heart heavy in his chest.

A moment passed, and then another once more. The only thing either of you could hear was the storm that had begun to persist around the castle. How the rain harshly hit the window against the wall, and the wind wailed.

“Not one human stood up. No one looked at what was happening, and said no. All they did was watch.”

Your eyes flickered to the arm of the chair Dracula was sitting in, how it splintered under the pressure of his claws.

Yet… you still didn’t look afraid.

“I then warned them. I gave them a year to apologize and admit they were wrong. A year to pack up and leave. No one did. Not one.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Dracula took a deep breath. In an instant, the air was no longer as heavy as it had been a moment before, though a deep chill still ran throughout the air.

A part of him wanted to feel a bit bad. The moment the air lessened, you slumped again. You were still wounded, and weren’t able to hold yourself together like you no doubt would have if you were healthy. He would have to be mindful how much of a powerful presence he had.

Thrumming his claws against the partially destroyed arm of the chair, Dracula looked over you briefly before continuing.

“In my grief and anger, I declared a year from that day, I would rain hell on those who killed her. I would raze humanity to the ground.”

Your eyes met his.

“And then you did. Or tried to.” you spoke, your voice surprisingly steady.

His eyes never left your own.

“Indeed. I did.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the sheets under you nervously.

Different ways over how you would respond flashed through his mind again, much like they had earlier these past few days. However, what you said next surprised him.

“I… I don’t blame you, if I am being honest.”

Sure, Dracula thought of the possibility of you saying something along those lines, but he didn’t think you’d actually say it.

Even if you were different from some of your ancestors, he still expected you to go along and claim he was still an evil bastard, that killing those people was still horrible.

Though, that thought isn’t wrong. He knew what he was doing all those centuries ago, and knew what he was doing each time he had been revived and set out to attack. How evil those actions were.

Yet here you were, so quietly admitting you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll be honest… If it were my partner, or someone close to me… I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.” You began, head tilting slightly towards him.

“Though uh… I don’t think I would have tried to kill all of humanity, but… Well… I don’t know your situation in full, but I do know grief is a powerful motivator for a lot of things…”

Dracula wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he found himself standing up out of the chair and leaning forward. His arms caged you in as he rested his hands on either side of you on the bed, while he loomed over you.

“You, Little Belmont, would commit murder? To avenge someone close to you, despite what your ancestors have stood for?” he asked, curiosity truly burning in his chest.

You didn’t shrink back, instead met his gaze head on, even as he caged you in. Even as he heard your heart pick up, and your breath hitch, you didn’t back down from his question.

“I’m not saying I would have tried to destroy all of humanity… or even that entire town. But I would hunt down every single person involved. They would know I was coming, one by one.”

Your eyes spoke promise, as if this was something you had thought of plenty of times before. The certainty in them was surprising.

“I’m not my ancestors. I protect humanity, sure, but don’t assume I'm just like them.”

He stood over you for a moment, his face so incredibly close to your own as he stood above you as he took in your words. Your pulse was loud enough to ring in his own ears, and your body was stiff as stone, as if awaiting him to call you a liar.

Then, he laughed.

It was more of a chuckle really, though seeing your bewildered face as he pulled back away from you nearly had made him want to laugh harder.

Leaning back and sitting into the chair once again, Dracula ran a hand against his face and into his hair.

“Forgive me- Forgive me…” He began, his lips twitching into a smile. “I just never thought I’d see the day where a Belmont would admit something such as that. Though…”

Dracula adjusted his posture to a much more relaxed one, most of the tension that had been in the air washing away in an instant.

“You are correct. You are far from what some of your ancestors have been.”

You definitely had Leon’s fire. It was hard to say if Leon would have committed murder against humans if the past had been slightly different… But you had that gleam in your eye that his old friend once had. A fierce look that was different, yet just as vicious as Belmonts before you.

With such a revelation, Dracula could feel the heavy feeling in his heart lessen, but that didn’t mean you both were in the clear, even if you understood each other just a bit better.

Even if you were sympathetic to him, that didn’t change the fact he very much attempted to kill many people. Multiple times, sometimes against his will. He very much has caused harm again and again.

Still, you looked at him with such a complex look on your face. No doubt conflicted yourself with everything you had learned today, especially if you were going to go ahead and plan to fight him anyway.

“So, Little Belmont.”

His voice had you looking back up at him.

“Now that you’ve heard it from my lips, why I detested humanity for so long, what do you plan to do now?” he asked.

Dracula wouldn’t lie. He was genuinely curious what your response would be. Anxiety began to creep up his throat once again, however.

…Maybe you would say something that would once again surprise him.

It was silent for a few moments, as you looked deep in thought, before looking back up at him.

“Well… Do you intend to keep trying to kill every human? Seems kinda… counter productive to do so now. Especially when things have changed so much in the centuries that have passed.”

Though you gave a slight wince.

“Granted, I don’t expect you to like anyone. But at this point, what do you gain? Are you… Not tired of fighting and dying and being revived?”

Once again, he could sense a genuine curiosity in your questions.

What did he gain, at this point?

Killing every human would be suicide for vampires everywhere. It would do more than just destroy vampires, but ecosystems as well.

As much as Vlad hated to admit it, humans were a necessary factor when it came to the earth.

But why should he care?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes landed back on you. How you fidgeted a bit on the bed, though seemed far less anxious than before. Your instincts didn’t seem as on edge as they had been when he first initiated this conversation.

Granted, he hadn’t been as… enthusiastic about world domination in centuries, if he were being honest with himself. His last run in with his son definitely left a mark, how his son grimly told him what Lisa’s last words had been.

But even though he often wished to stay dead, many would find ways to bring him back, and it was as if a cord was attached to his back, tugging him like a string. A force urging him to kill once again.

He’d barely be awake even a few hours, before he was set to be killed again.

Dracula would admit, he was definitely tired.

This wasn’t exactly what he expected his life to become after he chose to forsake his own humanity to spite God. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for doing so in the first place.

Who knew immortality would be full of boredom, tragedy, and bone deep tiredness?

Still, without it, he wouldn’t have experienced the brief bouts of love and joy that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His eyes stayed on you as those thoughts swirled in his mind.

Despite everything that has happened to him, he found it hard to regret meeting you, at least so far.

For a moment, his eyes gazed to the side, different thoughts conflicting in his mind, but…

He didn’t wish to fight you, either.

Fingers thrumming against the arm of the chair, Dracula leaned his face against his hand.

“I suppose that is a fair point. Nearly every human that has personally spite me is dead. It gets tiring being woken up, and then killed for attempting vengeance when those who personally wronged me are gone.”

Your lips twitched upwards slightly at his ‘admission’, before giving him a look.

“But tell me, Little Belmont…”

He leaned in close again from his spot in the chair, looking at you almost amused.

“What should I do instead, hm?”

You blinked, and your face briefly flushed from the proximity.

“Um… Well, what did you do before declaring humans as your enemy? Uh, I’m no historian, but didn’t you just kinda do your own thing, only killing people that came to bother you or hurt you? Like how the church likes to refer to you as Vlad the Impaler to hide that you are a real vampire that exists?”

Dracula stared at you for a moment.

“They what.”

Hands flew up, and you shook them a bit in front of you as Dracula leaned back.

“Uh- don’t worry, I can tell you that later, but in all seriousness-”

Arching a brow, Dracula briefly wondered just what the church and human historians have been saying about him all these centuries if they were attempting to hide his existence. Despite being freed for a few days, he still had much to catch up on.

Regardless, he gave what you said some thought.

“That is true. I… did mostly keep to myself. I had no desire to join or hide amongst humans. Though I had little pity for those who sought me out to destroy me and met a… bloody end.”

At his words you blinked, before nodding to yourself as if you agreed. However, your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you were looking at him with that familiar spark in your eye he had seen come and go.

“Um… Why not do that again? Actually, how about a compromise?”

Now he was interested. What kind of compromise would a Belmont come up with? You were different from many of the others, sure, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Well…” You began, clearing your throat, “Unless any innocent humans are harmed, I have no desire to or need to hunt you, or anyone in the castle, really. What would be the point? I know from personal experience not everyone of the paranormal nature are ‘evil’, after all.”

Your hands were fidgeting in your lap, and you were having a hard time sitting still.

“Uh… that is to say I won’t hunt anyone that hurts any innocent folk. But at that point, that was their own choice, right? Unless you ordered it, I can deal with them personally. No need to go to war if you aren’t attacking anyone. And…”

It was clear you were growing more and more flustered as you tried to explain yourself and your reasoning. It wasn’t for the fact he had to take this seriously, he would have found it cute.

“And I- um- I can try to keep people away? I own a part of the property nearby and can have the road closed off. Of course, I can’t stop trespassers if I am not here, but I have plenty of traps set around the property… close to my cabin, really. I can try and keep people away…”

You were mumbling more in thought now as you tried to come up with ideas.

“...And I know a few blood banks for vampires, and a few other paranormal people who require blood to live. I know a witch that owns one, too. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to bits to help.”

All were interesting ideas, if you felt you both could really pull it off. However, he still had one question.

While you were rambling, he gently reached forward, clawed fingers tenderly grabbing your chin to have you look at him. You stopped talking and froze, eyes wide.

“All very good ideas, Little Belmont, but please answer me this,” He began, watching as your eyes comically flickered between his hand and face, “What about your family legacy? It was founded on the very idea of killing me.”

You swallowed thickly as he spoke, eyes trained on him.

“You asked why it mattered. Are you really willing to throw away the one thing your clan was founded for? For peace? For both humans and monsters? Are you willing to toss aside the very reason your ancestors became hunters in the first place?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, swallowing thickly once more. After a few moments, you moved your head out of his grip, a sudden annoyed look in your eyes.

“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not my ancestors.” you began, a sharp look on your face.

“I didn’t ask to be born a hunter. To be born a Belmont. I’ll protect humanity, sure, but why do I have to limit myself and people’s lives based on what my ancestors decided what- 500 years ago? Why should every rule my ancestors made define my life in its entirety?”

It was as if your nerves had dissipated, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. Dracula wondered if this also was something you have thought about for years.

It made sense, he supposed. If your personal life was as much of a mess as he suspected, then what did you have to show for being a Belmont besides pain and strife?

His lips twitched upwards slightly into a small grin. You just keep finding ways to surprise him.

“Fair enough. It’s admirable to forge your own path rather than be held down by your ancestors.”

Dracula then tilted his head, that smile never quite leaving his face.

“So, Little Belmont. Let’s say I do agree to your ideas. I won’t destroy humanity, and you won’t hunt myself, and the residents of my castle. You’ll help keep humans away, and help anyone here who needs a meal. What will you do then?”

The annoyed look on your face fell, and you thought for a moment.

“Um… I could show you a bunch of modern stuff? No offense, I know you are a genius and all, but uh… I doubt you know all the ways civilization has changed since you were last around for more than a day.” you said with a wince, though you perked up almost instantly.

“Oh! I could get you a cell phone! Oh, I bet you would like some of the online libraries as well-”

He would admit, he had no idea what a cellphone was, but he was intrigued by the idea of a library.

But he was more interested in the very idea of you not only not slaying him, but you coming back to visit.

Yes, the idea of you wanting to come back was very pleasing to him, indeed.

It was at the cost of playing nice, but was that such a hard thing to achieve?

If it had been several decades ago, he doubted he would have been so… willing. He has had plenty of time to cool off, being imprisoned in stone. That urge to kill never truly left…

But that urge to devour humanity whole… that was dwindling. He’d argue that it had been dwindling for a while now.

He may be King of the Night, but this song and dance was growing tiresome.

That, and your ideas had merit. He could work with them, within reason.

“Alright Little Belmont.” he began, and you paused in the middle of your muttering.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

You sat up straight again, eyes at attention, and he could practically hear your heart pick up in anticipation.

“For starters, I won’t attack humanity, not as a whole. However, I won’t show mercy to anyone who personally slights me. That, and any human foolhardy enough to come to my castle in an attempt to destroy me shall be dealt with accordingly.”

After you gave him a brisk nod, he continued.

“You, on the other hand, shall not lay a hand on anyone in this castle, unless they attack first. Am I clear?” He spoke, his voice becoming firm. You tilted your head, and he decided to elaborate before you agreed.

“Everyone in my castle is under my protection. They are here either as a direct connection to me as my servants, are here for sanctuary, or are here for political endeavors. They are not to be harmed unless they attack you first, or attack humans on their own accord.”

He could only imagine the shit show that would follow if you killed one of the political guests for another coven. A part of him actually considered letting you loose on them, now that he thought about it, especially with those nasty guests that like to undermine him for dying to Belmonts…

That could be a thought for another day.

A look of understanding crossed your face, and you gave him another nod.

“That’s reasonable.”

It was more or less your idea, after all, but he was glad you were willing to agree to what he added on to it.

“Next, you said you own the property nearby, and could help keep other pesky humans away. I’ll hold you to that, because I may not attempt to kill humans for existing, but I do not wish to be bothered.”

Though he’d admit, he wondered if you would be willing to show him the land you own. Vlad was curious how a little cabin you owned.

What would it look like? Did you keep it clean? Messy? Was it large? Small?

Questions he could ask later, should he see you again and you agree to these terms.

You blinked, before nodding at him slowly.

“I mean… I’ll try and do what I can. Of course, If the government or church discovers you, they may try to override me, or send someone to attack from a different position. I can’t stop that, but… I will do what I can. If I can’t, and you haven’t done anything besides exist…”

Your eyes flickered to a nearby mirror, before looking back at him.

“Well, like you said, they’ll be dealt with. I can try to persuade but… well at that point, if they won’t hear me out… I can’t stop anything you do to someone trespassing.”

That was a fair compromise, he supposed. He had little idea how the human government worked in this day and age, let alone how entangled hunters were with them. Should anyone be foolish enough to challenge him, then he’ll make sure to deal with it.

But if you were at least willing to help him out, even a little, in regards to keeping humans away. Even if you most likely weren’t a fan of the idea of him exterminating any human that foolishly sauntered into his domain.

“Agreed. Now, another thing…”

Dracula tilted his head as he looked at you.

“I’d like to see you again after this, Little Belmont.”

Your eyes widened a degree, and your face grew slightly flushed from surprise.

“What-”

“What I mean is, you intrigue me. You fascinate me in ways I had long since forgotten, and I’d like to hope this simple compromise will simply be the beginning of a… commendable relationship.”

He felt his lips curl upward again at the look on your face. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to be so forward in asking to see you once more.

“Are… Are you sure? I uh, no offense, didn’t think you’d want a Belmont around after I leave… Or your castle’s inhabitants, since I know how some of them feel with me recovering here…”

Oh, how you had no idea how much he wanted to see you again. Vlad knew his time with you now was short, and his old heart was beginning to pound in his chest at the possibility of this little meeting actually working out.

He had to see you again. One way or another.

“I am sure. You will soon find that I don’t say things I don’t mean without reason, especially in company I like.”

He wished he had a camera, it was clear you weren’t quite used to subtle compliments. Or perhaps there was more to it?

Dracula could think more on that later.

Gently, he held out a hand to shake.

“What do you say, Little Belmont? Are these terms agreeable?”

Eyes flickering between him and his hand, you held out a hand, before hesitating.

“Okay… On one condition.” Dracula raised an eyebrow, but was curious nonetheless.

“Name it.”

After a reluctant pause, you spoke up.

“It can’t be this easy.” You began, though quickly continued when you saw his face fall.

“When I say that, I’m not referring to you. I mean our circumstances. I worry something might come up that would be… disruptive to this ‘peace’. I propose that we at least try to talk about something before acting rashly if one of us feels slighted, or if the other may have broken the agreement without realizing it.”

Dracula had to give you credit, even while injured and under what must be an absurd amount of stress, you were managing to think ahead. Something a hunter no doubt had to be good at while on a hunt, so why wouldn’t it show in other areas as well?

Plus… It pleased him you were still being careful, critically aware of your situation instead of blindingly agreeing. You were no fool.

No doubt your mind was whirring with possibilities, ways he, or someone in his castle could try and trap you by these agreements. Those thoughts weren’t unfounded, at least involving his subjects.

He had no doubts there would be chaos when you started coming around for visits.

Even if he himself wouldn’t dare try and trap you by your own rules to invoke a battle, it still impressed him that you were cautious. There were too many conniving fools when it came to such politics, even now as he settled back in as King.

Vlad smiled.

“Very well, that is agreeable. Anything else?”

You were still hesitant, but after a moment, you reached forward, your smaller hand meeting his own.

“No, that will be all for now.”

With your warm hand clasped with his own, Dracula felt his body finally relax, and his gaze on you softened.

For now, things might finally start going his way.

Even if that meant his desires had morphed into something different than pure destruction. All he wanted was to learn more of you.

#castlevania #dracula #vlad dracula tepes #castlevania x reader #dracula x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #Belmont!reader #long post #cw death mention #cw depressive thoughts #zed.writes #love that bites #ltb #fanfic

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