#have you ever laid eyes on a more beautiful human being

[aly4khq]

A DRAGON'S LAIR! ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ⋆*

— sum: You were exploring Tarus city as a self mission, trying to find the dragon who was told to have lived in the city for many years to come. You thought that you would encounter barely anything, but you were ever so wrong.

— characters: dragon!sylus

— warnings: pining, he tops ur clothes, double penetrartion (he had too dicks), improper use of his tail, manhandling, biting, fuckin from behind. (if i have missed any, please inform me!)

— wc: 1,746

You've never been one to lerk into unknown territory or to find refuge in a random city that you learnt about in a history book — it's never been in your nature at all. But once you saw the posters, you knew that it was a place of worship and surprise.

Tarus city, a city where it's been claimed to have a dragon that laid in the depths of a special cave. The cave was highly risky for any normal human being, I mean, the image that laid on the posters was frightening enough to keep away tourists. The unusually greyish-red that scattered around the cave's entrance, moving around like a line circling a branch, a black thick coating around it which looked like claws when compared to each other, the singular hand on the top leading to the cave like it was inviting you.

You loved mythical creatures so this was a field day for you, you needed to go.

There was also a garden which yearly grew beautiful flowers there, crimson in colour and rose in shape. They scattered everywhere, and they seemed to have been planted by a very skilled gardener — if there even was one back in the early years of life. Oh how you'd love to distress by rolling in there after a long day, what a dream.

But you weren't just there for the cool looking dragon, you were there for the sword. Like that playground sword that you had to remove from the ground, and whoever could move it was the 'chosen one', there was one that laid outside the cave, imbedded in the beautiful scenery of flowers and healthy grass with its delicate pattern leaving you with mysteries.

"Where did it come from?" "What does it symbolise?" "How did it get there out of all places?"

Who owned it?

Well, let's just say that you weren't too scared to find out. You needed answers and if you had to dig into a random mythical cave then you will. Despite the lack of information, you searched up any little tips to help you navigate inside of a cave.

You needed to be prepared, and properly prepared.

After a while of constant climbing and exploring the beautiful long yards of greenery, you stood face to face with the cave that was feared the most back in Linkon City, aka the Dragon's Lair. In the papers, it looked like absolute horror capturing in a frame but in person, it was gorgeous.

The cave was expanded and opened for anyone to come into, and you'd did just that. Entering the cave, you turned on the flashlight you brought, seeing insta treasures of many different kinds of art scattered around the walls of the cave. "Wow...this is cool..." you softly murmured to yourself, still engrossed in the scenery—

...what the hell was that?

A deep and raged growl sped through the walls of the cave like air, filling your eyes with an intense sound. Hissing, the growl's sound waves led you to an expanded room, where a big bed-like item was in the front, surrounding by more jewels of ancient treasures. You found yourself searching around, looking for what this place could've belonged to.

And after 5 minutes, you dug in, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Searching the amazing rich items on the floor, your bag got heavier and heavier with time. Each jewel that caught your eye went in. Some of them even had ancient symbols on them, now that's a lot of money.

But, a singular gem caught your eye. It was a necklace that had a black substance scattered all over it, laying on the bed that was in the middle of the room. "Oh?" your hand went out, curious, "This is peculiar."

The necklace was a beautiful golden chain, wrapping with ancient knots and twists so it was bonded together perfectly. On both sides of the pendants scattered around the necklace, there were small, very intricate patterns dented into the metal. It had a pocture of a dragon on the front, and it...was weirdly shaped. Like the top half was crossed out, but forget that, you just found a good millions of money in your hands.

"Well, that's been a nice journey here cave, thanks for the new finds and...yeah. I'll be going."

You turned for the entrance where you came from, and it was blocked off by a large bolder. "Huh..? Why...who?"

You turned around to find a way to get out when a tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to your knees in a rapid manner. You scrapped your knee on the harsh carpet. "Ah! Hah...ow.." You tired to arise from your forced position when you heard a deep voice.

"Were you never taught of etiquette? Or was it just you who missed out?"

He boomed over you, a...handsome man. He was silver hair, crimson eyes and weird black claws and a tail. His clothes bleeding in with his skin.

This isn't the dragon. I mean, it's a literally human being?

"Etiquette? Who are you?" You replied back harshly, not thinking before you spoke. Remembering quickly, it was too late, his tail went around your body before whipping the skin behind you thighs. You yelped, cursing the man-dragon above you.

"You!—" "Me what?"

He arose from his throne, walkijg menacingly to grab your waist before pulling you up to your feet. He turned you around, your back against his toned chest. His hand went over your chin and upper neck, pushing your head back to his shoulder with a smirk.

"Maybe I should teach you," he bite your collarbone before growling, "how to respect a dragon's cave."

"Gahh—Ugggg, you're so deep!—"

"Focus."

That same dragon had you bent over the same drawer you had stolen from, your clothes ripped from his sharp claws just where you soaked pussy was.Your back arched like never before and his hand still around your chin, his teeth biting and sucking on your collarbone with delight. His hips were slow but deep, reaching your cervix with long strokes, his dick sending you into a wave of pleasure.

"What's the answer?"

He'd made you write down the rules of entering his cave again, the pencil shaking vigorously in your trembling hands. The paper soaking up your falling tears as you begged and pleaded with the man above you. "Hahh— Sylus— please...! Please! I might just—"

His tail traveled down your clit, gently caressing it with the peek of the tail. "Write it down, or I'll do even worse." He threatened, and you obeyed, grabbing the pencil and harshly writing down, "I will be respectfu—"

"Ah!!" His hip gave you a sharp thrust, a warning to behave and write properly. His hand groping your wee cheeks to the point that you could feel his claws digging into your flesh. "You have one more chance." With every word, he thrusted harder until you shrieked, your body bending more forward to escape his powerful hips, you pussy squeezes into the life out of him.

Your hands went back, trying to push his pelvis away from you. "Hm?" He hummed, his eyebrow rising before you hear a chuckle, "Want me to slow down sweetie?" His voice was playful, yet you nodded quickly anyway.

"Too bad." 



He sped up, his hips snapping so fast with your to the point where it echoed in the room. Your hands banged on the drawer, lookijg for a way to soothe to intense pleasure that you were being given. You couldn't even speak, your face fucked out and your body slowly weakening.

"S-Sy...luss...I can't...! Please..." You begged, trying to find a better way to convince him to give you a break. His dick the was so deep that you thought that it was two dicks at once. It felt so huge, and more struggle.

The stretch was too much, you yelled, "Sylus! Why is it—" You gasped loudly, relent that he had two massive ducks in you at the moment, both of them lodged deep in your pussy. In that moment, you nearly passed out. "Ahh ah hah...hahh!!" You cried out, tensing, "Pleaseee..."

"You're fine, just one more." Sylus cheered on, his tail moving up to caress your back, travelling down the straight line. His tail met your ass, gently put slowly digging it into your other hole, "No! No no, please, i can't, please," Your whole body was shaking, your sweat coating your skin.

"Mhm, fine, for now." Sylus replied in a teasing tone before continuing to roll his hips into yours, and by that tight squeeze he knew that you were close. You stood a little, crying, "I can feel it!— I need to pee—Why does it feel like I need to pee?!—"

He reassured you, speaking in your ear, "It's normal, you're fine, just relax." You wasn't breathing at all. He grabbed your chin again before ordering you, "Cum."

Your orgasm hit you, your lungs not being able to take in oxygen due to the sheer force of your release. The intense feeling was still shocking you, your hands braking some of the wood of the drawer due to your grip. Your legs shaking like no ever before you felt his claws tap your chest, "Hey, Breathe."

You took a deep breath in before covering your mouth, instantly being met with fatigue. "I need a rest...I can't feel myself..." Sylus chuckled at your position, his hand goijg around your waist to carry you to his bed. "It's okay, you took both off my dicks, well done."

"I knew you'd come along," Sylus hummed, "so just relax my Queen, I'll take care of you.

this is not proofread! i was too eager to post so sorry hotties!

@ aly4khq, do not plagiarise, translate or copy my work. (30/11/24)

[monstersholygrail]

The Kiss of Fate

Shark Hybrid x fem!reader x Merman— fingering (f!receiving), slight cuckolding, masturbation, double penetration, creampie, cockwarming

Shark Hybrid bf loves everything more when he gets to experience it with you. When once he loathed the land he now loves it as it’s where he can spend countless hours with you. And when once his home within the ocean caves were lonely and dreary, now he’s seen it through your eyes and it’s the second most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The first, of course, being you.

But experiencing the ocean with you, his lovely mate, comes with a price. A price terrible yet worth it. You see, as a Shark Hybrid his kiss doesn’t have the ability the let humans breathe underwater. So when he wishes to take you into the ocean, he has to ask for help from his rival, the Merman.

He hates the way the Merman swims up to them all smug, the way he looks at you as he sweeps you up in his arms, and the way the Merman looks at him, smirking as he kisses you with the simmering heat of an underwater volcano.

But most of all he hates how much it turns him on to watch you getting kissed so roughly. Because fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His cock hardens the longer you get swept up into the kiss.

When his length pops from its sheath his hand itches with the urge to pump himself to the sight of you. The Merman’s gaze flickers back to him and a spark of understanding passes between them.

The Merman needs no further explanation besides the sight of your bfs cock. His kiss with you grows more passionate, his webbed fingers trailing down your body and dipping into your bathing suit. That jolts you out of your trance and you glance at your bf, shocked to see him touching himself. Your brows furrow in uncertainty but at your bf’s encouraging nod you slowly turn back to the Merman who gazes at you as if you’re his most precious treasure.

With his arms holding you tightly, the Merman swims deeper into the ocean, leading you and your bf into what you assume is his home as you resurface into a cave with an air pocket.

The Merman pins you against the wall of his cave, his mouth back on yours and his hand resuming its place as he nearly rips your suit off in his haste and swipes his long digits through your folds. You whimper against his mouth, legs wrapping around his tail.

“Goddess, I’ve been waiting for this day. But I knew it’d happen. Knew one day you’d both be mine,” the Merman pants in between kisses, his hands roaming all over you as if he’d spent so much energy holding back and now he’s been let loose to give into his desires.

His cock falls from its sheath and joins his hand, grinding his length against your pussy while his fingers rub diligently at your clit. You cry out, body rocking into his hard cock. Hands weaving into his hair to keep him close.

You know exactly what he’s talking back. The hidden tension and desire that always floated between the three of you. A pot of boiling water just waiting to spill over. Every meeting, every kiss, and every glance. Bringing you all closer to the inevitable.

Your bf’s hands grip your waist as he slides himself behind you against the wall. You immediately moan and arch back against him as you feel his cock nestle between your thick thighs. With your body on display the Merman delves down, kissing along your neck.

“Don’t act like you knew I’d eventually give in,” your bf snaps as if angry. But the husky tone of his voice betrays him. He was just as aware as you all were. This was meant to be.

The Merman lifts his head, his smirk as smug and arrogant as ever as he gazes at your bf. His hand reaching out to cup the Shark Hybrids cheek and he can’t resist leaning into the touch. Only serving to make the Merman more smug.

“Of course I did, I have eyes,” he responds cheekily in a way you’ve grown to find endearing. “Now let us claim our mate before I lose my patience.”

His gaze sharpens with a burning heat that inflames your insides despite being in the cold water. He wastes no time guiding his cock to your entrance, the buildup up of it all has his length sinking inside you with ease. Mirroring moans leave you both as he stretches you so wonderfully. The Merman cries out, throwing his head back.

“You feel even better than I imagined. So tight. So fucking warm,” the Merman exclaims, losing himself in the feel of you.

Just as you’re starting to adjust to the Merman’s side, your bf’s fingers playfully trail down your back till they tease at your other hole. You whimper pathetically, desperately wanting them both inside you. Your bf shushes you gently, leaning down and kissing your temple.

“Don’t worry, mate. You’ll have us both. We’re here for you. I’m right here,” he whispers in your ear and you angle your head to kiss him.

Shark Hybrid bf kisses you slowly as he preps your ass for him. Your hips instinctively rock into the feeling, causing the Merman to hiss sharply as he tries to hold back. Waiting for your bf. And when he finally does enter you, joining the Merman inside your body, the cave echos with wanton cries and grunts.

The two Merfolk begin to move together and you gasp at the sensation, your eyes rolling back as you feel so full stuffed with two thick cocks. You clench around them, not being able to get enough and they both growl. The sound letting you know you’re in for a wild ride.

Your bf instantly picks up pace, pounding into your ass and giving it to you just how he knows you like it. The Merman quickly follows, furiously snapping his hips against yours and forcing his cock in as deep as you can take it. You scream in pleasure, holding onto them both as they take you for a ride. Forcing waves of pleasure onto your body with no remorse.

The two work in complete tandem, making sure when one is thrusting out, the other is plunging back in. Ensuring you’re never without a cock inside your addictive body. The overwhelming sensations constantly clashing and overpowering the over leaves you weak and limp in their hold. Endless moans fall from your dropped jaw as you’re helpless to the strike of your senses.

When you can no longer hold it back, your body seizes, a fierce shriek vibrating off the walls of the cave as your thrown off the edge and into the deep end of euphoria. Your orgasm moves its way through your quivering body as your mates help work you through it. Their thrusts turning erratic at your constant clenching.

They both spill their cum inside you, one after the other. Their hot release filling your insides, spurt after spurt splashes along your walls, leaving your belly slightly distended. Four webbed hands are caressing your body and two sets of lips silently praise you for how good you were for them.

You lean into them both just as you lean into this new chapter of your life. Knowing that neither of you will be able to leave the Merman now and that you both won’t want to. The three of you together just feels right. And now that you’ve had it you can’t imagine it any other way.

As you meet your bf’s eye you know his thoughts are running along the same path as yours. With a subtle nod and a gentle kiss to your throat he confirms it for you. A giddy feeling bursts through you and you naturally clench, causing your mates to groan in unison. Their cocks slowly hardening again for another round, wanting nothing more than to please their mates.

[entitled-fangirl]

A gentle wolf.

Cregan Stark x Arryn!reader

Summary: Rumors had spread of the Lord's fierceness. When the reader marries him, she fears if the rumors are true. He defends her at the ceremony, and she believes that perhaps he's just a gentle wolf.

Warnings: talks of sex, cursing, blood and death, crude comments, attempted s.a. (not from our boy), a bedding ceremony, read at your own discretion

A/n: This was based on a few different asks!

Masterlist

..................................................

Y/n's father, Lord Arryn,was a firm man. Headstrong, he fought for the best for his children. 

When Rickon Stark accepted the proposal of Y/n Arryn to his only living son, Cregan, the smile that came to her father's face was the only one she'd ever seen graze his features.

This betrothal was the highest honor her family could have received.

She had never met Cregan before, but only being eleven, there was much time before she had to worry about such things. 

…

The years had moved by quickly, a rapid approach to the girl's end to childish things. 

The rumors through the years of Cregan's growing formidable northern spirit increased tremendously. 

Perhaps some of them were true. 

He's ruthless. Heartless. More animal than human. 

She grew fearful of how her future husband would treat her.

"Perhaps he'll finally get the bratty behavior out of you," her brother mused. 

Her brother's wife, the future Lady Arryn, hit his chest, "Be gone with you. Do not frighten the poor girl."

When he had left, the woman turned to Y/n to speak, but Y/n beat her to it.

"Will it hurt as bad as they say?" She asked in a hushed tone.

She paused to answer her, careful of her word choices, "It… may not be pleasant, my lady."

She had to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. 

"But I'm sure Lord Cregan will be merciful to you."

She wanted to believe her sister-by-law. She really did. 

But even she could not believe the tense look in the woman's eyes.

…

Cregan was just as intimidating as the rumors had made him. 

Strong. Hardy. Gruff and unforgiving. Stern and harsh.

Yet his eyes always held an unfamiliar look to them, as if his next move was completely undecided to the person that stared into them.

A small smile came to his face as he held a hand out to her, "I'm sure your family wishes to rest from their long travel. I would be overjoyed to show you Winterfell if you'll allow me."

Y/n looked over to her father, who gave his stern look that he always gave. A silent warning to behave.

She took Cregan's hand with her own, trying to still the small tremor to it. Her voice was meek, "I'd like that, my lord."

"Cregan."

"Hmm?" She questioned.

"My name," he began, "It's Cregan. Please use it."

She nodded, "Very well… Cregan."

His smile grew as he studied the girl. As the two began to walk from the main hall, Cregan softly murmured to one of the servants to show her family to their chambers. 

"I do apologize that Winterfell has no lavish garden or beautiful art to view. It's rather lacking in color." He spoke lightly after a while.

She let out a soft breath, relishing in his voice finally. It was low, yes, but not the growl that she had thought it would be. 

"However," he continued. "It has formidable walls and a strong structure. Those who stand on this side of it are safer than King's Landing."

She hummed, "I don't believe the North really focuses on color and art over warmth and survival."

A chuckle escapes his throat, "Aye." His steps slow as they near one of the few balconies, "But perhaps you may breathe life into it."

She wanted to turn and question him, but the view from the balcony caught her attention. 

He made a motion with his hand, encouraging her to look out.

She took slow steps, reaching the bannister as she looked out at what Winterfell had to offer outdoors. 

What she didn't notice was what laid within the walls as well, for Lord Cregan Stark's eyes had softened tremendously as he watched the young woman. 

"I'm afraid I don't know how to be a lady," she lightly remarked as she looked over the courtyard.

He stepped forward to her, meeting her at the bannister, "It is not a matter you know, it is one you learn."

When she looked over, she finally took him in.

The man was every bit the wolf they had said. She knew that. 

But like every Stark, he was still a man. 

"I became the Lord when I was only three and ten," he said. "It was frightening. I was hardly old enough to know the sword, much less to lead such a people as the Northerners." His eyes softened again as he looked into her eyes, "It will come in time. Do not fret."

"Thank you, my lord."

He head tilted lightly, a small twinkle to his eyes.

"Oh. Cregan, I meant," she bit back a small smile at her words.

A surprising chuckle bubbled from him as he looked out over the bannister. "You're a quick learner, pretty girl."

She fought to keep the blush rising to her cheeks at bay.

She couldn't let the wolf sink his teeth into her just yet.

…

She was completely zoned out for the ceremony. She wanted to be involved and remember it, yes. But everything was just too much.

Right now, she focused on the heavy feeling of Cregan's cloak draping over her shoulders as he stated his vows to protect her under his house. 

She had already stated her part, leaving her to stare up at Cregan. She couldn't look away from how his breath could be seen in the cold chill.

Her attention reverted back when his hands cupped her cheeks and he leaned down to her, placing a heavy kiss to her lips.

Her hands gripped his wrists, thrown off at the feeling.

When he pulled away, a wide grin was pulled across his face. His forehead rested to hers. "I am yours, and you are mine," he whispered to her.

A breath escaped her lungs at his proclamation. 

Perhaps she truly was a lamb brought to appease the wolf. 

But then why was the wolf's smile so charming?

…

She sat in her seat anxiously, her entire body practically shaking.

She was supposed to sit with Cregan and enjoy the feast. 

But she couldn't stop worrying of the bedding ceremony.

To be naked in front of all these people? It made bile rise in her throat. 

"Something amiss?" Cregan asked as he leaned towards her.

She quickly shook her head, "Just nerves is all."

He nodded slowly, debating a thought. Finally, he handed her his own cup, "For the nerves."

Y/n took it gratefully, sipping the dark wine.

She barely noticed when Cregan stood and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll be back momentarily. I've a few guests to greet."

He straightened himself up, leaving the table to disappear into the crowd.

Perhaps a moment alone in her thoughts would be good-

"Excuse me, Lady Stark," a new voice mused. 

The lady paused, looking up to the voice. Across the table was a man no older than thirty, his surcoat a bright red. His smile was all teeth, and it put her on edge.

"Lord Bolton, my lady." He bowed his head before letting his eyes rake her form, "I was hoping to ask you for a dance."

"Ah," she quietly acknowledged. Her eyes began to look around for her husband. "I was led to believe that a first dance is required between a husband and his w-"

"-Lord Stark doesn't dance, my lady. Most northerners don't."

"I suppose that makes you… different." She said as she studied him.

He grinned again, "Aye. I suppose so."

With no Cregan in sight and no reason to say no despite wishing to, she nodded and began to stand, "Very well, Lord Bolton."

When she rounded the table, she took his hand, forcing a smile to her face. 

The two descended down to the floor as the small quartet began to play.

Lord Bolton's moves were careful and calculated, that much was clear. That alone seemed to describe him wholly as a person as well.

Another man rushed to Bolton, a smile on his face as he leaned to him, "Is it time yet?"

Bolton sighed mid step, "No. I will inform you when it is."

The man sulked off. Before the woman could ask, Bolton made a quick effort to spin her, distracting her from the conversation before. 

She tries to ignore the feeling of Bolton's hand on her waist. It's forced, uncomfortable. She feels controlled under his grip. 

As the song comes to an end, he makes no move to step away. "I must say, my lady, I have been most eager for this."

"Hmm?"

"The ceremony, I mean. I am quite eager for it."

"What do you mean, my lord?"

His hand reaches up to her cheek, his thumb running along her bottom lip as he stares at it, "To tear your clothes from you and watch you be throughly fucked by your lord husband."

Cregan stood with a cup of ale in his hand, his laughs loud through the hall as he joked with a friend of his. With his back turned to the high table, he had yet to notice his wife's absence from it. 

Until a voice whispered in his ear. 

His head turned, his face suddenly serious. "Repeat that?"

"The Lady… she danced with Lord Bolton."

His attention was completely lost from the previous conversation as he looked over to the busy floor. 

Sure enough, he saw Bolton with his filthy hand on her cheek, his eyes full of lust. 

When Bolton reaches up to the shoulder of her dress and tugged harshly, Cregan moved. 

A downright mob formed, eager to begin the bedding ceremony of stripping the couple and marching them to their room to consummate. But any body that moved toward Cregan was met with injury. 

He pushed and shoved bodies left and right, finally getting to Bolton.

Y/n laid on the floor, pushing Bolton's hands away, as well as others, as they pulled on what material they could. She cried out with every sound of the ripping dress. 

Fire filled the Stark, and his voice showed it. 

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" His voice echoed through the hall.

All the attention shot to Cregan, silence filling the room.

He forced himself to breathe. "I said," he muttered lowly, "Get. Away."

One by one, the people stepped away from the girl, creating distance. When Bolton stood, he straightened his clothes, huffing as he did so.

Y/n sat in tears as she pulled up what material she could to cover herself. Her dress was all but tatters, her shift containing large rips that only chilled her already shaking body. 

"Bolton," his voice growled out.

A shiver ran down Bolton's spine at the sound of Cregan's voice. He stepped to the man, "My lord?"

"Explain yourself before I murder you at my wedding."

"The bedding ceremony," he said as if it was obvious, "We were beginning the ceremony."

"And I told you there would be no such thing. Did I not?'

"Aye, but it is tradition," Bolton continued. 

"Aye, but I'll have your fucking head for this," Cregan mocked him.

Cregan knelt down to Y/n, helping her cover herself in what he could, as well as his own body shielding some of the stares. His voice was soft in her ear, "Are you harmed?"

She moved to speak, but her breath was all hiccups from her tears, so she shook her head instead. 

Cregan turned his head to look at the nearest servant.

"Bring me Ice."

Whispers moved across the hall immediately.

What would Lord Stark need with his longsword?

Soon, Ice was in his hand, and he stood from his wife to glare at Bolton. "I'm going to take something from you. But I'm noble enough that I'll let you choose."

Bolton's eyebrows shot up, "Take, my lord? W… What do you-"

"I was not finished," Cregan growled. He paced back and forth in front of the man. "I can take your hand, your tongue, your feet," he paused as a smirk came to his lips, "��or your cock."

"This is outrageous-"

Ice was suddenly pointed at Bolton's throat, "The next words from your mouth will be your answer or I will take your head entirely."

When silence filled the room again, Cregan turned his head barely to his servant again, "Get my cloak for my wife to cover."

When the warmness returned to the woman's shoulders, she pulled the cloak to her as much as she could, hoping it would sooth the chill and embarrassment that had settled into her bones.

"Take her to our chambers," he muttered lowly, not letting his eyes leave Bolton. "I'd hate to ruin her wedding night with the sight of blood."

…

Cregan met her a few hours later as he entered their chambers. His shoulders were still tense and his eyes still held fire, but it was better than before. "Forgive me."

She looked up from the sofa, a new, unripped shift covering her body now. "For what?" She asked softly.

Her eyes were still puffy, her nose a bright red from irritation. 

It didn't help his anger.

"I made a vow to protect you under my house and my name and I've already failed you."

"No, forgive me," she sniffled. 

His mouth opened to rebut against her, but no words came out.

"I… I did not mean to mislead Lord Bolton. I… I have sullied the Stark name. Dirtied it with… with a mere dance. I am sorry."

Cregan wanted to scoff. "What?"

"I mislead him. He-"

"Quiet," he said. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I've not angered you?" 

He took a step to her.

Her sniffles grew to hiccups, "Please don't."

His confusion grew, "What are you speaking of?"

But when he stepped to her again, she flinched away, pushing herself further down the sofa. 

"My sweet wife, please speak plainly," he tried to reason with his hands up.

"I… I can be better. Give me a chance, please."

"B…Better?" He scoffed. "You are an image of the Mother herself. I hold no anger to you."

She hiccuped again as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "None?"

"No. Only a creature of a man would ever be angered at his wife so. I defended you, did I not?"

Y/n considered his words. She was deep enough in thought that she didn't notice Cregan's closing steps until he was sat on the sofa next to her. 

His hand reached up to her chin, pushing her face up to look at him. "I promise. I promise to be entirely too gentle with you."

This was no wolf at all.

All of this time, she feared the Warden of the North. The wielder of Ice. The Stark Wolf. 

She hadn't considered that she had married Cregan. 

"What have you done to Lord Bolton?" She dared to ask him.

His head tilted, "Enough to help him learn better."

He may have been all of those frightening things outside of their chambers. But for her, he was only Cregan. 

He laid her down with careful movements, his touch light as he began to undress her. 

…

She was unsure what happened to Bolton that night, but rumors spread throughout the castle that the man's blood had to be cleaned from the Winterfell floors over a dozen times over to get the stain out.

................................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,

[suiana]

✎ yandere! argenti headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, delusion, slight possessiveness?, kidnapping?? etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! character)

✎ yandere! argenti who met you once and instantly fell for you. his heart racing, cheeks flushed... why does he feel that way? ah! it must be because you're so beautiful that's why! what a majestic human being you are! pov you were ugly crying because you lost your 5050😜😂

✎ yandere! argenti who just follows you around now. yeah sure he needs to search for his aeon but surely this is more important right? like, his aeon would definitely want him to be with this beautiful and majestic human being! it's no biggie, he can just search for his aeon later. there's plenty of time.

✎ yandere! argenti who most definitely sees you as the most beautiful person in the whole universe. like it doesn't even matter if you believe it or not, he will and most definitely view you as some sort of deity because of your beauty. like, he's gonna be rizzing you 24/7 now. bro saw that damned house plant as beautiful you cant convince him otherwise💀

✎ yandere! argenti who might even start seeing you as his aeon of beauty?? it'll be even worse if you played into his silly talks about how he sees you as beautiful and whatnot. that'll backfire HORRIBLY on you dawg 💀💀

✎ yandere! argenti who now wholeheartedly believes that you and him are destined to be. that's right! you must've been his aeon, the whole reason he does things! that's why he fell for you in the first place, right? and that's why you're so beautiful too! you're his aeon of beauty after all... which is why... he's decided that he will not go anywhere without you anymore.

✎ yandere! argenti who really really wants to introduce you to the other knights of beauty but there's something in him that tells him not to. he doesn't understand why, you're surely the aeon that they're searching for! he should introduce you! but no, there's a disgusting part in him that only wants you for himself. all. for. him. he can be a little selfish now and then, can't he? especially since you belong to him now!

✎ yandere! argenti who takes you away with him now. yeah he's found his aeon but settling down seems a little boring, doesn't it? so he'll take you exploring theoughout the universe! don't worry, he's a knight. he'll protect you :) eh? what do you mean you have friends and family??? he's the only one you need, silly!

✎ yandere! argenti who also does your skincare and stuff. bro is gorgeous and has the most luscious hair, of course he'll doll you up too! you guys can be pretty together 💗💗

✎ "my beloved rose, you are simply the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

[hislittlesparklejumpropequeen]

I never blamed you for loving me the way you did.

Lestat De Lioncourt x reader

Summary; Lestat De Lioncourt had a wife once. And a beautiful life. Until he lost everything. Warnings; fail marriage, blood and injuries, vampire sex, character deaths, suicide, self-hatred, penis in vagina sex, creampie, sex as a coping mechanism, child loss, grief and mourning, ANGST, hurt no comfort, BISEXUAL Lestat de Lioncourt

Word count: 11,181

(Pre-canon)

Lestat had spent decades on this planet. He had known thousands of people, been to hundreds of cities, lain with both women and men. He had fallen in love, once upon a time. And he had known loneliness. He knew it even before he was turned into this vile creature. When he had to spend his days in his cold bed as a little human child. As his father and brothers torture toy, his mother’s suffocating burden, when had to spend days in Satan’s dungeon with the dead and the undead, waiting for his final day see his god for the first and last time. The nights he prayed to God to spare his life and how his prayers turned to pleadings for his death. He begged it to be quick and painless. He wanted his mother’s comfort that he never knew. He wanted to go back to church and attend the sunday service with the people of his small town. He wanted to hold cross one more time and feel the love of Christ in his bones.

He thought about God and Jesus and his mother when Magnus nearly ripped his neck open with his sharp fangs one night. He drank so much that Lestat thought he saw a bright light in the corner of his eye. He felt his soul slip away from his body and the lightness wash over him. It was a comfort that he never felt in his entire life before. Not when he used to lay beside that tree on the hill and exchange glances with the pretty looking shepherd boy as the warm breeze danced with his own blonde curls. Not when he fell asleep with that beautiful daughter of the baker by the river, naked, arms wrapped around one another, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beats.

He had tasted blood for the first time when Magnus pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. Lestat started to drink. He had no idea why he was drinking. It was an instinctual command coming from his body, from his very existence. He felt life come back to him. But not his soul, it was gone. He felt his flesh harden like rocks and the colour drain away from his rosey cheeks of humanity. He felt Magnus’s blood flow trough his veins, fast and burning. He felt the warmth in his chest. His fingertips hurt with the sharp nails that grew in seconds. His eyes were sore and when he opened them again, the bright colours made him dizzy. He could hear everything and everyone. He could feel everything at once. He wanted to die. He wanted to beg Magnus to stop playing with him and let him die peacefully. And he was alone one more time when Magnus died in the flames, in front of his eyes. He smelled his burning rotten flesh. Dying like him disgusted Lestat.

Over time his yearning for God’s love turned into grudge. He wondered why God let him turn into this blood thirsty monster. Yes, that was what he was. A monster trough and trough. And no one would dare to love a monster like him. Even tho the monster would love anyone in the purest way possible if he was given chance.

And he did. Lestat loved Nicolas. As much as he could at least. Nicki was a troubled man since the first moment Lestat laid his eyes on him. He thought that being with him and having countless adventures could change him and plant seeds of happiness into soul. But it didn’t. He hesitated turning him into a vampire when Nicki was begging him to do so. He could sense the consequences of doing it. But spending centuries with the man he loved convinced Lestat. Nicki sinked into his dark thoughts more. His violin played with sadness and sorrow more than ever. Lestat felt his darkness in himself. He could not hear but see Nicki’s feelings in is empty looking eyes. He felt the guilt filling his heart as his first love was turning into someone he didn’t know. Armand’s presence wasn’t helping at all.

Lestat never thought about being loyal to his spouses when the world was full of fruits in different shapes and colours and tastes. There was so much to explore in his infinite life time. Armand was a capturing thing. With his eyes looking into his soul and reading him like an open book. Armand was offering so many things to Lestat that no one ever could. He yearned for the care and affection from Armand. He wanted to drink from him, lay with him and taught by him how to survive, live with the nature of a vampire. But being with Armand in front of the eyes of Nicki pushed the poor boy into madness more and more every passing day. Lestat was hungry but not for the destruction of the ones he loved.

He left Paris with his mother. He had left Nicki and Armand and the theatre. Only to receive the news of Nicki’s death. He fell onto his knees when they sent his violin to him. He touched the places where Nicki’s fingertips traced over. And he played it for the last time to feel his lover again. It didn’t matter if he was feeling Nicki’s love, rage or sadness. He only wanted a piece of him. His lips trembled when he played his favourite melody. The melody Nicki would play for Lestat after the moments they spent in each others arms, tasted one another and explore the corners of pleasure. He remembered that fearless little boy that he met with back in the day, when they were both humans. He remembered the shy glances of Nicki when he was looking at Lestat’s eyes, lips and every detail on his face. He remembered the moments they danced together and his mother would sing for them. He remembered their last happy moments. Tears of blood flowed down his cheeks and stained his white shirt.

He was alone again when his mother left him. He felt unlovable. Even his own mother couldn’t stand his presence. How could anyone in this world would love a man like him? By that time he had forgotten how it felt like being close to god and feel his love. He knew that God left him when he was turned into a seed of devil. He wanted to scream and shout and tell God that he never had a chance to choose. If he could he would choose God over everyone and everything without a second thought. Therefore Lestat knew believing in something higher and more powerful than you was a great comfort and happiness a man could ever have.

He traveled for years after his mother left him. He wondered around the countries, saw humans kill one another, cheat on one another, trick one another and destroy one another. He saw that it was not only him that was hungry for something he couldn’t name. Then his bright greyish blue eyes found the figure of a little human being in the crowd, dancing with a beautiful smile on her face. His eyes watched you for the whole dance. He heard your fast breaths, how they go trough your delicate nose and reach to your lungs that were still fresh and youthful compared to his rotten body. He saw the drops of sweat sliding trough your temple, your hair damp and the braid crown that was about to fall off. He heard your laugh, full of life and joy. He saw your skirts fly off as you tap your feet on the floor with your human strength. Your dance made him smile. His smile widened as you kept dancing and laughing. He felt like he never saw something or someone more alive. He felt a warmth in his chest. So different from the one felt when he first drank Magnus’s blood. It was type of warmth he felt when he was still human, when he had fears of a human and desires of a human.

He took you into his arms as you were still dancing. The dance floor was crowded as you felt his hands on you. You turned around and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes that you ever saw in your entire life. It felt natural to be in his arms, to be close to him and smiling at him. Lestat looked into your eyes as both of you danced trough the song. You didn’t want this song to ever finish. His body was pressed against yours and it felt like you were the only ones in the dance floor, in the world. He felt your gentle hands on his arms, going to his shoulders. It felt tingly and he realised how much he missed this human feeling. He laughed when you accidentally stepped on his feet and his laugh sounded more beautiful than thousand melodies that you ever heard. Which musician could ever write a song that sounded like his joy? Who could ever be the inspiration and make any musician to write it?

You watched his blonde long curls shine under the colourful lights. The thought of running your fingers trough his curls sent shivers down your spine. Lestat shook slightly when he heard your thoughts. You didn’t think about laying with him right away or take advantage of things that he might offer you. You only wanted to caress his hair. Something his mother never did. He closed his eyes and leaned down to your neck. The flavour of your blood filled his nostrils in seconds. He felt dizzy and wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt his lips ghost over your skin and you had to hold onto him.

“Wait for me, ma cherie.” He whispered and you opened your eyes. Your arms were on the air, hugging no one. You felt coldness wash over your burning cheeks.

“Wait for me.” You heard his voice again. You turned around but he was no where to be seen. Your hands held your long skirts and put the strands of hair behind your ear. People around you kept dancing as you walked out of the dance floor with shaky legs.

Lestat watched you for the rest of the night from far afar. You didn’t dance again or laugh. You sat down, sipped on your drink, answered question when they were referring to you and looked for him with curious eyes. He felt sense of pride in his heart. Not because a mortal girl was mesmerised by him but because it was you that was mesmerised by him. You were not his prey of the night. He could fill that place with someone anytime, anyone could be his meal tonight. No, you were meant to be alive, and you were meant to be by his side.

For eight long weeks he watched your every step. He watched you wake up every morning, have breakfast with your family, attend your daily lessons, sew with your lady friends, read your books by your window and think about him. He could hear your sweet dreams about him, even when he was in his house. You were waking up everyday, hoping to see him somehow. You thought about telling your mother many times. Maybe she would’ve known about that otherworldly lord that attended the party in the gambling club. He watched you blush like a cherry in summer when one of your mother’s friends pointed out that you were zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts pretty often, just like a young lady in love would do. Your mother laughed it off as you kept your eyes on the floor and your thoughts on Lestat.

He watched you go home that day. Slip away from the heavy layers of your dress, undo your beautifully braided hair and lay on your back on the bed. Your room was lightened by the few candles on your desk and nighstand. He could hear your heart beating fast as you pictured his eyes again and again. Oh how beautiful he was. As if carved by God himself carefully within the image of an angel. You could feel that weird, tingly sensation in your stomach when you remembered his lips on your skin. Lestat smiled softly as you drifted into sleep thinking about him. And he was in your room. He walked to your desk first and looked over the poetry books you were reading, and the some poems you tried to write. A little poet i have hear, Lestat thought.

He walked to your bed. His hands traced over your neck to your chest and lastly to your stomach. His touch was so soft and light, he could feel you hardly. But he could feel your warmth so clearly. He could feel it even with just being in your room. He tried to remember the last time he felt the warmth of humanity in him. Nearly two centuries. He sat on your bed and looked at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to sleep for night without all those memories haunting him? He listened to your heart beats for a moment and the way your eyes were moving slightly during your sleep. He leaned over you, to your neck. He inhaled deeply as his lips were close to your skin. For a moment he feared that his cold lips would wake you up but you didn’t open your yes. Your blood made his mouth watery. He was so hungry. For blood yes, but he was hungry for something more. Something that could make him feel alive after two centuries of being dead. Something that would make his heart beat faster with excitement again.

He wondered if God was looking down at two of you in that moment. If he was, would he let Lestat to defile one more of his human children? If yes, why? Wasn’t it both torture for Lestat and them? He had the blood of thousands on his hands. And there was no soap or water in this world that could wash it away from him. He was carrying all his victims within himself. They were in his veins, staining his fangs.

He laid his body on top of yours slowly, gently. His broad shoulders blocked your eyes and his legs trapped you between them. Your eyes opened wide with the pressure on your stomach. First you could only see darkness, then you felt a cold hand against your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, mon cœur.” He whispered. Your fast breathing calmed in seconds. He looked down at your face and your gaze met with his own. You looked divine under the moonlight, under him. The way your eyes were still half open, in the grasp of sleep. And the way your cheeks were flushed with shyness and excitement. But not fear. His eyes found your lips lastly. Your lips that were slightly open, sucking in little breaths, looking all soft and warm. Lestat felt your hardened tetes peaking trough your nightgown, pressed against his tough chest.

You saw his bright blue eyes go darker with lust and his teeth grow into sharp fangs that only a wild animal would have. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin and make you bleed. You both hissed as his fingertips got covered with your blood. He snarled just like an animal as the smell of fresh blood surrounded his very being. Your body trembled and you held onto his arms tightly

“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered. You did not feel horror, or rage or sorrow. You were only exited as he held you in his arms. Lestat smiled softly at your question. He pressed his nose against your cheek and inhaled your scent one more time. Your humanly, sweet smell made him dizzy. He felt an unfamiliar sensation down below his stomach.

“No, I will give you life. Better than the one you have.” He said and bite down your neck. First thing you felt was a sharp pain that made your neck go numb. You could not move, rather dare to move. It felt like if you moved, the pain would get worse. Lestat let his body go and laid on top of you fully, giving his whole weight. You opened your legs and welcomed his slender figure. And for the first time in decades, Lestat felt like he was home.

The wound that his fangs made on your neck started to burn when he licked and played with it with his tongue. The tears filled your eyes as Lestat laid his head on your neck. He kept drinking from you, slowly, taking little sips with the tip of his tongue, still breathing in your scent. His arms were wrapped around you and you could feel him all over you. He felt himself harden against your hips. He had to do it. He had to put an end to his loneliness.

He slashed his wrist with his nails, deep enough for him to bleed. Then he pressed his wrist against your lips. Your slowly closing eyes opened up at once as the strange taste of blood hit your tongue. Lestat shifted his position to open up the breaches of his trousers. He watched you drink him up hungrily as he lifted your skirt up to your waits. You felt his cold fingertips tracing over your bare stomach and thighs. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than the liquors you tasted in the balls, sweeter than the sherbets in the centre of the candies you ate, sweeter than the tropical fruits that your father bought very rarely.

You felt your whole body burn in need, in lust. You felt the buzzing sensation in your brain and your ears ringed. You pushed his hand away and pressed your lips against his own. You had to have him. It was a primal instinct that made you think so. Lestat held your back and positioned himself against your leaking entrance. Your warm walls welcomed him. You were sweet, warm and wet. In that moment it felt like it was all he ever needed. You tasted each other’s blood on your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. The he pushed you back and pressed his wrist back onto your lips. He wanted you to drink, cure your thirst and hunger with him.

He thrusted into you hard and deep as you kept drinking and drinking. He had to tend to you, he had to care for his fledgling. You were his. From head to toe, you belonged to him. Magnus had never claimed him as his own. His mother had no maternal instinct for him. He belonged to no one in this entire world. Nicki was in his own little world despite the love Lestat gave him. And Armand would never belong to anyone. Oh but you, you were perfect for him. Your walls tightened and it drove him over the edge. He ripped his arm away from you and held your face. You whined in need for his blood. His length went deeper and deeper into you as your shaky breaths hit his face.

He heard your heart sync with his own as he looked into your eyes. Your face was covered in blood as you moaned in pleasure. Lestat wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to be buried in you. He spent himself in you with one last thrust and felt your walls tighten more than before as you choked on your breaths and held him tight against you. He looked down at you and saw your thighs and his pubes sticky with blood. I had claimed her in every way possible, he thought.

He let you lay back down as he laid himself on top of you. You tried to catch your breath and he laid his head on your chest, between your breasts. Lestat kissed your skin, his lips left marks of blood on you. Then he felt your hands in his hair. Your fingers played with his lose curls that was ruined when he lost himself in pleasure. He felt your fingertips caressing his forehead and temple, gently, softly. You were still gentle with him even after what he did to you. His shoulders relaxed under your touch and he let out a shaky breath. What was he going to do now? He should’ve ask you before turning you and prisoning you into darkness. How he was different from Magnus when he just grabbed you like a piece of meet and drank your essence of life just to replace it with his rotten, blood of death?

“My family will think I coupled with the devil.” You whispered as you kept caressing his hair. Lestat’s breath hitched in his troath. He looked up to you under his lashes. He looked like a scared little boy in this light. A little boy that feared the monsters under his bed, scared of his father’s rage, scared of life and death. The tears of blood filled his eyes as he looked into your eyes. He saw the bright colour of your irises that matched your new nature. He nodded as he agreed with your statement.

“You have.” He said quietly as he avoided your eyes. He heard your small chuckle, felt his arm move as your chest rised up. You were still so calm. Maybe you were in shock after what he did to you. Poor girl, Lestat thought. I have driven one more innocent into madness.

“How come devil is so pretty then?” You asked as your fingertips trailed around his eyebrows. He stopped frowning with your touch. Then your touch continued to his eyes. Then to his nose. You caressed his straight bone. Finally your fingertips reached to his lips. Your hand brought grace to his well shaped lips. He planted a small kiss to your fingers.

“I never knew devil would look so perfect.” You whispered. As if even you couldn’t believe what you were saying. But Lestat heard you. He heard you so well that he received your compliment as a sharp pain into his heart. Growing up he had always heard that he was a pretty boy. Many of his lovers had said so even after his humanity was ravaged. But he couldn’t see anything but a monster when he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a attraction for violence. He couldn’t feel fulfilled if he didn’t kill. And he couldn’t satisfy himself if he didn’t hurt.

“You don’t know what I am. How can you say I am perfect after what I’ve done to you?” He asked his his tears started to spill from his eyes. You caught them before they could flow down his cheeks. Your small, soft smile remained on your lips. Lestat thought that he never seen someone so beautiful. He was surrounded by your smell, your beauty and compassion. He was covered in your blood and you were carrying his blood. He felt himself warm next to you. Centuries of coldness in his chest was replaced with your smile. He could feel your body calling for him, desperate for his touch and taste. There was a soreness in his troath. He wanted to scream it out.

“You have bewitched me.” You said, almost like a confession. His sharp gaze found your eyes immediately. Lestat’s tears kept spilling from his eyes as he laid his head on your chest again. He stayed in your arms who knows for how long. How could he let you go know? When you were calling him perfect, even after seeing his blood thirsty animalistic side, touching him with love and passion, carrying a piece of him in you, opening your arms for him without a question and accepting him as he is?

The next time Lestat knew loneliness was the hardest time.

You were a great companion, lover and a wife for him after the night he had you in your room, in your bed of youth and innocence. You were a brave little thing that was ready to face an army for him. He felt like the luckiest man alive when your laughs echoed trough the walls of your home. After decades he was finally living, sleeping in a house that he called home. He tried to taught you french but you were impatient and often ran away from his grasp to play his favourite melodies on the piano. He couldn’t get mad at you and watched you for hours as you played, looking at him for the whole time with a big grin on your face. He bought you the finest dresses in your favourite colours, had beautiful jewellery made for you. He loved making you happy more than everything in the whole world.

You were getting into an excited hurry every time you two decide to host a party in your home. People of your city were adoring both of you as a couple. You were so cheerful that there was no room people didn’t smile and the place didn’t lighten up as you entered. Men and women considered themselves lucky if you danced with them. But Lestat knew your first and last dance always belonged to him. Your heart and soul belonged to him. He didn’t know how many nights he pressed his forehead against yours, smiled like a teenage boy in the bliss of love and lifted you into air as your skirts flied behind you and your laughs filled ears of fortunate mortals. His heart was syncing with someone that loved him deeply. And he was so full of love, that he couldn’t remember the times he had lost himself in darkness.

He would have children with you if he could. If he was still a human. He would love to raise a boy that looked like you and a girl that looked like him. He had imagined the picture many nights as he closed his eyes in his coffin, his arms wrapped tight around you. He could see them running around the house, laughing beautifully like you. He could see them growing up and having their own lives as he grew old with you. I was so close to have a life, he thought after every single time he dreamt. The thought brought him sorrow. But he had you. It was more than enough for him.

Lestat met with your family when you two decided to get married. Your parents loved him. They called him a great gentleman with knowledge and culture. A husband fit for my daughter’s hand, your father said. But as the years went by and you still didnt have children or added wrinkle over there and there, your family sank nto silence. The letters became lesser and lesser. By the last letter, it was a dry piece of paper with few words written on it. No feelings, no longing or great love of your mother. You two attended the funeral of your father as he passed away after 15 years of your marriage to Lestat. Your mother’s eyes filled with tears and hatred as you watched your father getting buried. Lestat held you as you fought so hard to keep your tears back from spilling. You could see everyone’s eyes on you, examining you with fear planted in their heart, convinced that you are no longer the girl they knew. You tried to approach your mother and got blocked by cousins and other relatives.

“Tell that devil to leave my poor girl's body and find someone else to be the servant of satan.” You mother’s harsh voice made you step back. And Lestat could hear your heart shatter into pieces. He knew her words were referring to him. How many times I will hear the same thing, phrased differently? He thought. After the funeral you refused to leave your bed chambers for days. You didn’t eat even if Lestat hunted for you. You refused to sleep either. As the sun rose from the east and Lestat closed his coffin, he could hear your muffled cries in your own coffin. You couldn’t get yourself to sleep with him. You couldn’t get yourself to face to world. Your mind kept drifting back to the times you were with your family and how much they loved you. Lestat never wished something as much he wished to hear your thoughts and take your pain away. If he could, he would take all it of to himself. He was used to be in pain since he knew himself. But seeing his sunshine fade away was like tying his hands and feet and abandon him to starve to death.

After days, you left your coffin for the first time. Lestat’s bright eyes scanned your body head to toe. All he could see was a hungry vampire that was broken. Your under eyes were purple and your skin was paler than usual. The veins under your skin was showing trough. You could barely walk and talk as he held you in his arms and carried to the living room. Your hands fell to your thighs and he fell to his knees in front of you. His eyes were filled with concern and fear.

“Ma cherie, you need to eat something.” He said as he tried to make eye contact with you desperately. But your eyes were avoiding him by all cost. Your lips parted and some whispers left your mouth. Lestat leaned closer to hear you.

“It’s you.” He heard you say. He frowned and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly after a moment. You looked like a mess in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than pulling you back into his arms and never let you go.

“You never did.” You said as you finally made eye contact with him. “You are the reason of my current state.”

Lestat felt your words form into a dagger and stab him on his heart. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to get away from you. He wanted to step away and take one more step away and one more… Your eyes were looking at him differently. There was a feeling he never felt from you before. Hate.

“You made me what I am and you ruined me.” Your voice sharp and your eyes full of bitterness. You collected all your strength to get up but it was not enough to keep you standing. Lestat held you gently before you could fall. Then he felt your sharp nails scratch him and rip his hands away from you.

“Don’t ever touch me.” You hissed and crawled away on the big sofa. Lestat’s eyes could not leave the empty space that you used to sit. He could hear your heart beating fast and he could almost taste the poison in your words you spoke out and you were going to speak out.

“You put me in a prison that I will never be able to leave. No matter what I do.” You said. Lestat looked over you and saw the tears of blood flow down your cheeks. Your fragile figure broke his heart repeatedly. He came in front of you on his knees and tried to hold your hand but you pulled away again. He sighed and did his best to hold his tears back.

“It will get better. In time everything will feel less weird and more normal. You will embrace what you are.” Your eyebrows lifted and a cold smirk appeared on your lips.

“And what is that? A murderer? A sinner? A cursed woman?” Your voice raised with each word and Lestat moved away. He turned around to avoid your eyes and words. His left hand found the corner of the window to lean down and his right hand covered his mouth. Muffled cries left his lungs as he shut his eyes tight.

“You will carry this feeling for the rest of your life.” You said and your presence left the house in seconds. Lestat did not move from his spot as he felt you going away from him. Your heart beats faded away in the night until he couldn’t hear you anymore. Me and you both, he wanted to say.

8 years.

He didn’t see you for 8 years after that night. He knew you were out of the city, far away from him. He called for you every night for a year at first. He screamed your name in darkness, hoping desperately that maybe you would hear and answer him. But you didn’t. Once his voice became hoarse, he wrote letters to your family. But got nothing back. Was it still possible for them to take you back after everything? Your mother couldn’t look at you and your siblings had nothing but fear and disgust in their eyes when they glanced at your direction. You were truly all alone in the entire world. You had no one but the person who trapped you into loneliness.

Lestat wandered around the city for days, searching for your scent, your gentle figure. You were no where to be found. He stopped going out after some time and trapped himself into his house. His coffin was full of pictures he could find of you. For nights he stared at your smiling face, frozen in those moments of happiness and joy. He missed your smile. He craved for you in every way possible. The house felt like a grave and his good old friend, the coldness was back. The memories of his youth started to haunt him one by one as he laid in his coffin during daytime. He could not find sleep when your side of the coffin was all empty.

He thought about his life before and after Magnus. He wondered if he would have a good life still if he wasn’t turned into a vampire. The thought of not meeting with you sent a gut-wrenching pain to his stomach. You’d be centuries apart, in different lives and countries. The picture of you marrying a decent man that your family found for you, wear a wedding dress for him, have his children, raise kids that looked like you and some man, have fights and love making nights with him, grow old with him and hold his hand while you greeted by the merciful arms of death made him tear up. He felt his heart pound painfully fast in his chest. A sob ripped from his throat and this time he didn’t cover his mouth. The guilt ate him from inside out. The honeymoon was over and now, he had the face the fact that he stole your whole life, your one chance of being alive, only for him to take your love for himself, selfishly and hungrily.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks urned into months, Lestat started to lose his hopes of seeing you again. Once again he was assured that no one could love a man like him. He didn’t want to stay in the house that use to be the home to two of you. Every corner was you and he couldn’t finish a day without thinking of the times you had spent together. But the small chance of you coming back made him stay. If you wanted to come back, you would love to see everything same and your husband waiting for you, Lestat told himself in the moments of doubt.

And one day you opened that door and came back. He was in the music room when he heard your heart beats. He felt like the time had frozen and his heart skipped a beat. His fingers on the piano stopped, his lips twitched with longing and tears formed in his eyes. When he saw you again, standing in front of him, beautiful as always, he wanted to get on his knees in front of you and beg you to forgive him for what he did to you. Then his eyes found the little body of the human boy in your arms. The child was maximum 4 and he was shaking uncontrollable. His blonde hair was dump on his forehead and weak breaths mixed with moans were leaving his mouth. Lestat didn’t need to be doctor to know that the boy was in great pain. And perhaps fear.

“He is going to die.” You said and hearing your voice after years made Lestat break down. He had to turn around at the doorway to hide his tears.

“Help me. Please.” Cracked noise from your sore throat was heard in the room. The boy was clinging to your dress, like a little lamb. You walked towards your husband as you held the little child tighter.

“Please save him. For me?” Lestat didn’t know if he was feeling grateful that you were back, guilty for his mistake or angry because you only showed up when you needed something from him. He looked at the boy. He was cute little thing with blue eyes like ocean and long blonde lashes that framed his doe eyes. He saw his clear tears run down his face as he coughed. An innocent, Lestat thought. An innocent dying in the arms of the woman I love.

“You can turn him. I don’t know how to. But you do. Please Lestat.” He saw your tears dripping down to the boy’s hands on your dress. The pain in your voice twisted his stomach. You sounded helpless and he whished nothing more than take this feeling away from you.

He shook his head no.

“I can’t.” He spoke. The dryness in his voice made more tears fall down your eyes. You held the boy closer to your heart. His head rested on your heart as you caressed his blonde curls. The curls that reminded you so much of Lestat.

“Yes, you can. Do it for me, please!” You were ready to beg if you needed to. There was nothing more you wanted than saving his little life. He had to live. He had to survive this filthy world and show everyone that he was strong. And maybe you would have a chance of being a mother.

“Children cannot be turned.” Lestat said as he reached out to hold you but you took a step back. You were shaking your head endlessly as tears kept flowing down your cheeks.

“Great laws forbid it. Otherwise a vampire child would live in misery.” He remembered Marius’s voice as he spoke these words to him before he sent him away. Someone under 17 cannot be given the dark gift.

“Laws? Are you serious? He will die if you don’t save him!” Your scream echoed through the walls and found his ears and heart. Your anger and sorrow shook him slightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice in this very moment. You could turn around and leave him again. And never come back this time. Who knows maybe you would find another vampire out there that could be your companion? Or turn this little boy for you to only make you happy? The thought hardened his blood and tightened his chest.

“My love, he won’t be saved if I turn him. He will live his life in desperation. For something more. Something he will never have.” He said gently as he wiped his tears away. He had to be strong. For both of you. His eyes found the boy again. He was so thin. Lestat wanted to put an end to his suffering. The boy’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at you. His fingers were shut tight over the fabric of your dress. Lestat could feel your love and care for him. You felt like you had to protect him. The boy’s big eyes found him. He looked at him with softness and hope. His eyes are full of life even when his life slips away from his body, just like hers were once upon a time, Lestat thought.

“We can be a family Lestat. He can be our son.” You said quietly. As if you feared that the world would take him away from you if they heard your words. “He looks just like you.”

Lestat didn’t look away from the boy. Yes, he did look like him. His blonde curls were just over his shoulders and his nose was small like Lestat’s nose when he was little. His mother loves him, unlike mine, he told himself.

“You and I and him. We can be happy together. We can try again.” The desperation in your voice broke his heart. You were willing to go back to him. To where you belong. Lestat wanted you back in the house, in his arms, in his coffin. He wanted you on his lips, on his skin. He wanted your fangs back in his neck and your heart on his. He wanted to be the one made you smile again and he wanted to be your dance partner in your extravagant parties. He wanted the boy to watch two of you as you danced and clap for his parents. He wanted to take him into his arms and feel a father’s strength in his bones. He wanted the pure and unconditional love of a son. The one he used to have for his father, way before he became his father’s unexplainable enemy. He wanted to see the boy become a man and be his pride.

“We are killers. A child has no place among the demons.” His words cut sharp as the boy started to cough again. The blood covered his lips as you tried to calm him down. Your own tears were spilling uncontrollably and sobs were coming between your lips. Lestat heard your irregular heartbeats.

“He cannot die.” You said between your sobs and cries as the boy kept coughing his blood out. You fell to your knees and kept his little head on your heart. His small, fragile hands were holding your hand tight. The fear in his eyes were piercing trough Lestat chest. He knelt beside you, held your back to his chest as you rocked back and forth. Both of you stopped breathing as the boy’s heartbeats started to slow down. His breaths calmed down and he closed his eyes. He clinged to your cold skin and did not let your hand go. With his last breath your head dropped back to Lestat’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped tight around both you and the boy. His long fingers intertwined with your and the boy’s hand. His decreasing temperature was slowly matching the coldness of both vampires.

“My son…” he hard your whisper. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling. Lestat buried his face in your neck when your cries filled the room. If only I could take all your pain away, he wanted to say but words did not leave his mouth. He could take your pain away, if only he made you a mother and gave you another family.

Lestat carried you to the coffin when you were exhausted from crying. He took the boy’s lifeless body and burnt it while you slept. He stayed until he was nothing but ash. He looked at the scene as the flames took him away and listened as his bones cracked and his flesh melted down. He didn’t let himself cry. It was his vilest murder. He had no right to feel guilt or shame.

He laid beside you in the coffin. You were whispering and crying still, even in your sleep. His fingers traced over your hands gently. He looked at your sleeping form and took a deep breath. Your scent filled his lungs once again after many years. His insides blossomed and he felt the life come back to his body. You were his home. It didn’t matter to him which form you were in or how you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were laughing or in sorrow. As long as you were beside him, he was happy to have you in any way. And you were back. Lestat knew he could not let you go again. Not after this night. Not when you needed him the most. He was the only one you had left with and he had no intention of leaving you alone. He was going to make you happy again. Just two of you were enough.

“You came into my life when I needed you the most. Now it is my turn to bring you joy.” He whispered to your ear and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your eyes opened as he closed his own. Your gaze traveled trough his beautiful features. He was beautiful as the first day you saw him. Years ago, in that party, where you were still innocent and human. Now I know that devil can be this pretty, you thought.

Lestat was in the corner of your mind for 8 years. You were carrying him in you wherever you traveled to. His face was carved onto your eyelids and you were too afraid to close your eyes. His voice kept echoing in your head when you killed, drank or spared a life. You played his favourite songs on the piano when you needed him by your side. But no matter how much you missed him, you couldn’t forgive him. You knew Lestat De Lioncourt loved you. You felt it in your bones, in your flesh. You carried his love in your veins. But you knew he cursed you forever. And you weren’t naive like you used to be to forgive and forget what he did to you. You were young and in love. How could you know it meant to lose your everything when you gave yourself to him that night?

You could not deny the fact that you were happy at first. Lestat gave you things no one ever did. He respected you, he loved you gently and made you feel like the only woman in the world. And you loved him. There was something in Lestat that pulled you to him. You were like opposite sides of a magnet. It felt right to touch and kiss him. Your heart craved for his heart just like your body craved for him. When he was deep in you, made you scream his name and planted soft kisses to your face, life was good. Until you started to see question marks on people’s faces. You were in peace with your fate and the things came with your new life. But everything seemed meaningless once it cost you your family. Lestat’s arms failed to comfort you when you were invited to your own father’s funeral at the last minute and saw that no one wanted you there. Not even your own mother.

You were motherless and fatherless. You were a demon who could only see the world under the dark sky. You could only stay alive if you killed humans. And seeing Lestat every single moment of your life vexed you. At the time you needed someone to blame other than yourself. You were already aware of your mistakes. And knowing that Lestat still turned you despite the fact that he knew what kind of a curse he was bringing on you, made his existence unbearable. You had to leave. You had to be alone with yourself after decades of marriage. Still, no matter where you went, Lestat was the only thing your heart ever wanted. You would always love him.

Then you found him. Leonardo. That was his name, you tried to remember. He was the son of a homeless woman that lived on the street of your small home. It was nighttime when you heard his cries. You saw his dead mother and him crying his eyes out over her body. You felt your heart shatter into pieces with the sight in front of you. He was so small and so scared. When his blue eyes found you and you could see his face clearly, you knew that you could not leave him to die. His arms reached out to you when you knelt beside him. He didn’t know why his mother wasn’t waking up and taking him into her arms. He was shaking and coughing between his sobs full of fear.

“Mummy.” He cried as you caressed his blonde curls to calm him down. He was cold and hungry and sick. I want to help you. I need to hold you, you thought as he snuggled to your chest. There was only one person who could help you. But could you go back to him? After everything that happened between you? Could you find that strength in yourself or would he take you back?

“Mummy!” Leonardo screeched in your lap in pain as his coughs got harder. His little hands were trying to hold your arms. You had to do it. Both for yourself and him. So that was now you found yourself in front of the door of your home.

You reached to hold his cheek. His breath quickened with your touch but his eyes kept shut. You were pressed against him. Your lips were nearly touching and you could feel his breaths all over your face. Your fingertips traced over his face to his neck and to his chest. His body shook. The soft touch made you both shiver when your hand slipped under his expensive shirt. It has been years since you last touched one another and you realised how much you missed him. You needed to touch him. When you pressed your lips against his, Lestat’s arms wrapped tighter around you. His kisses and biting continued to your neck and to your chest. The soft lips of your lover were sending you into oblivion. You had to be closer to him. Closer than being skin to skin, something more, something more painful, something full of love and the suffering that comes with it. Something that would destroy that pit in your stomach and be worth of all your sorrow.

“I love you. I live you. I-“ Lestat’s raggedy voice stopped as he kept kissing you hungrily. His words weren’t able to keep up with his desire. Your mind was foggy as he undressed himself first, then you. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were feeling his cold fingers spread the wetness between your legs. His fingertip caressed your leaking opening and moans left your mouth. You could barely see because of tears when you held his face and made him look at you. He was crying too. You kissed him. His tears and yours mixed up and found your pressed lips. The taste of blood was exquisite, vibrating, destructive.

The next thing you knew was you were on top of him, the lid of the coffin was wide opened, he was inside you, fully. You rode him to the bottom of the coffin, hard and deep as his impressive size stretched you out immensely. Your eyes rolled back when his hands groped your breasts. He was talking but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears were ringing and the pain was too great. Your moves became faster and harsher. Your sharp nails digged into his chest and scratched him all over.

“You’re crying.” Finally you heard him and opened your eyes again. It was a mess in his coffin. His chest, between your legs, his face, your body, you were both covered in blood. Yet Lestat managed to smile when he saw the unsettled look on your face. He held your waits tight and moved you back on forth gently on him. He kept caressing your body and say sweet nothings as he controlled your movements.

All the memories of your shared life passed before your eyes as you went closer to the edge. Your legs shook when Lestat’s thumb found your pearl and circled it skilfully. There was a soreness in your throat and your climax was building in your lower belly. The image of two of you filled your mind over and over again. The image of you happy. Would you be able to be like that again? You didn’t know. And learning the answer of this question scared you to death.

“I can’t.” You cried out when your orgasm hit you hard. Your body froze as Lestat kept his hands on you and reached to his climax. His dead seed spilled into you. Deep into your dead womb that was never going to be a home to a babe. Was Lestat enough for you to be fulfilled? Were you going to be enough for him when he got bored of searching for things that made him feel human, made him feel young again?

When you made eye contact again, you could see fear and doubt in his eyes. He was scared that you were going to leave him, just like everyone he ever loved. And he was not sure if it was still you in your body. He was looking for you in the eyes he saw for thousands of times and more. Yet nothing about your eyes felt familiar. Your body felt like you, your kisses felt like you, your heart felt like you. But it was almost like a death itself looking down at him in this moment. He left out a deep breath when you leaned down and laid on his chest.

His heartbeats were fast under your cheek. You turned a little and pressed a tender kiss to his chest. And another. And another. You kissed him until new tears stained your face. You hoped that you could find him again one day. You hoped that you were both humans when you meet again. You hoped that you had a life in another world, with the love of your life. You knew Lestat would find you no matter what. He would love you the same if not more. He would be yours in every lifetime until you had no more love to give.

“I’ll love you forever. Now and always. Until my last day and after.” You whispered but your quiet words reached to Lestat’s ears. He smiled sadly, his tears spilled down to his paper white pillow. He tried to speak but his voice shattered.

“And I you.” He could only say without sobbing. He shut his eyes tight when he heard you fall asleep on him. Tomorrow was going to be better. Everything was going to alright. He had you in his arms. And he needed nothing more.

—

When Lestat opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was pain. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t even press his lips together to cover up his moans. He licked his dry, chapped lips with the last strength before he was breathless again. In the darkness of his coffin, his shiny eyes looked around desperately. He could feel the air hitting his burned body and make his wounds boil. He cried out your name. You were not in his arms. Where could you possibly be? Were you harmed too? What if you were harmed worse than him? You were younger and weaker than your maker. Lestat had to put himself together and find you, his dear fledgling. When he pushed opened his coffin lid, he saw the the wide open curtains that were usually closed. It was dark outside. The moon light was the only thing that was bright in the pitch black room.

It was only then he saw his burned body. Front of his arms, his whole chest, his thighs and his face were all covered in ashy wounds that were slowly healing. His blood red flesh was showing trough the burned skin pieces. They sizzled as the new skin was forming over them. But before he could think about his wounds, he had to find you. Why the curtains were open? They were always supposed to be shut. Just in case if any of you had to wake up when sun was still up during the day. He dragged his feet to the short, wide corridor of the second floor. All the doors and the windows were open, he frowned in confusion. His head was banging quiet like a bomb explosion. His body was aching and he was afraid. He was afraid just like the night Magnus took him from his room.

He walked fast as he could and entered the music room. You were no where to be seen. Lestat’s nose scrunched when he breathed in the strange smell in the room. He felt the smell stick onto his lungs and enter every bit of him. It was haunting and indescribable. It almost felt like he could taste it on his tongue. That strange, unpleasant, obnoxious flavour was so familiar on Lestat’s throat, yet he could find no name for it. He took few steps to his piano. His favourite tunes ringed in his ears. He could see your ghost of a fingers on the keyboard, playing all gracefully.

When he looked down, a pile of grey, powdery substance caught his attention. How could he possibly not see this when he entered the room? He got on his knees and the source of smell was undeniably found. As he touched the powder, he felt his whole body shake in horror. His eyes closed tight when the faded memory of you getting up from the coffin came back.

“I love you. I love you. I love…” the words were repeated over and over again. Not thousands but maybe hundreds and thousands of times. He could hear you. You were not in the coffin. He could hear your steps in the room. Then he could hear your steps in the corridor. You were going in and out of rooms. Lestat could hear you mumbling things under your breath. He could hear your heartbeats and your rushed moves.

He wanted to open the lid of his coffin and get out. It was probably near sunrise and you had to go back to sleeping. When he pushed the lid, something blocked his exit. He tried to kick it and punch it when he heard you play the piano and keep talking.

“I want to see the sun rise in the sky again.” You said. “I want to see the clouds on the blue ocean of time.”

He called for you but you were not listening to him. As you played the melody from start to end, the fear in Lestat’s heart grew stronger. And when your fingers stopped, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. It was something he had never felt before. The greatest pain he felt was when he was transformed. He could never forget what it felt like for the next thousand years. But this, this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep. He wanted to rip his stomach open and find the core of the pain. His coffin got filled with his dreadful scream and he heard you shout in agony. He felt the pain in every inch of his body. With one last hard kick, he opened the lid successfully. Only to be greeted by bright, warm sunlight that was glowing beautifully in your shared chambers.

His skin started to burn immediately, and it was then Lestat knew what was happening. His jaw clenched and his tears burned his wounds when he heard your screams from the other side of the house.

“What have you done?!” He shouted but you didn’t respond. The sunlight was nothing compared the pain he was in as you kept burning. He could feel his blood boil in veins as yours dried up under the daylight. You were leaving him.

‘I have loved you, with everything I had in me.’ Lestat didn’t know if you spoke aloud or he just imagined, rather wished you have said it. Maybe it wasn’t too late, Lestat tried to get up but his body was damaged enormously. He could feel the sunlight penetrate into his bones with every second he was spending in front of the open curtains. But he had to save you! He cried and tried to get up again. And again and again. Until he couldn’t hear your screams anymore.

The house fell into a dead silence in seconds. Only thing that could be heard was the silent sizzling of Lestat’s burns. He stoped breathing and he stoped trying to get up. His lifeless eyes fell onto his hands. He laid back in his coffin and pulled the lid back on with a stinging move.

It was a nightmare. An unbelievably bad nightmare. Maybe the worst one he had have been for decades. You were sleeping in your own coffin peacefully. Lestat was going to see you when sun came down and he was going to kiss your lips with a smile on his face. He was going to carry you around the house like a princess and read your favourite poems just for you. You were going to forgive. And maybe in time, you were going to forget. He was going to change and try to be someone better than who he was now. Both of you were going to be happy again, together. He smiled with excitement with the thoughts on his mind. The smell of burned flesh tickled his nose.

—

“You do not know this girl!” Lestat said aggressively as he watched Louis lay the little girl on the bed carefully. Louis’s bright green eyes were full of fear and guilt when he faced Lestat again.

“Make her like us!” He said with a bitter hope in his voice. Lestat pressed his lips together when he heard him utter those words. This cannot be happening, he assured himself hopelessly.

“Non c’est impossible. Elle est trop jeune!” Lestat said in frustration as Louis walked closer to him with hurry. Lestat's heart was pounding fast in his chest. The images of a distant memory was blurring his vision. The same eyes from decades ago were looking at him again. The same eyes that were full of guilt, sorrow and hope with an innocent child at the edge of death in the arms of the person he loved. His chest tightened when Louis kept talking, pleading to save the little girl’s life. What could Lestat do? Was he curse to live same life over and over again for the rest of the eternity?

He could never forget you. He didn’t know how long he mourned you. Days, months, years? Maybe he was still mourning you with the little box in his closet that was filled with your ashes. It took him years to find the courage to try again. And when he kissed Louis for the first time, he felt like finding light in his murky world. But guilt ate him inside out. He wondered if you would be wounded when you learned that he was capable of loving again. He tried to reassure himself that the thing he had with Louis was different than what he had with you. You would always be his wife. Your wedding ring on a necklace that was around his neck was the proof of it.

“Please I can’t have her die!” The pain in Louis’s voice broke his heart. He remembered this feeling so well that it almost hit him on the face. He remembered how it felt like to be helpless when his lover was begging him to change things, set things right and how he couldn’t do it.

“The gift cannot be given to children.” He said when his anger and fear filled him to his limit. The look on Louis’s face twisted something in his stomach.

“What do you mean? Yes it can.” Louis said breathlessly as he tried to find his strength back. All he needed was to save this girl’s precious life. She laid on the bed, unconscious, coughing out the flames silently and she was all he needed in that moment.

“The great laws forbid it!” Lestat spited out as if he had poison on his tongue. Anger appeared on Louis’s face and Lestat regretted what he just said.

“The great laws?” Louis said mockingly. He sounded bitter and every octave of his voice cut both men deeply. “She gonna die in front of us!”

The next thing Lestat knew was that Louis dragged the little girl on the flour, cried, begged, cried, fell on his knees in front of his companion and cried. Louis’s usually gentle hands found Lestat’s body, he held onto him like he was the last thing on the world.

“Please, please.” It was all Lestat could hear. And the little girl’s raggedy breaths that were becoming slower and slower.

“My beautiful little daughter.” Lestat could not swallow, could not hold his tears back or his heartbeats stable when he heard Louis’s voice shatter as he said the words. He hated how his story repeated itself. He hated how he was always the one who had to make this decision.

“Please I’ll be anything.” Louis begged and cried. Lestat wanted to curl into a ball and never wake up again. He looked down at this companion, his lover, the man who saved him, begging him to make him a father.

“Please, please, please…” It was all Louis was saying when Lestat remembered your screams after your little boy died. He remembered how yours eyes looked dead inside and even your smiles were full of grief. He remembered how you begged him and he didn’t listen to you. And then how he lost you. He was a fool to think that you were going to be alright after your son died. He was a fool to think you were going to forgive him and be happy again. And he was a fool to think that you were going to stay with him after what he did to you.

There was a no day passed after your death that he didn’t regret not turning that boy. Great laws forbid it! At what cost he had followed the laws when he was on the other side of the world, oceans away from the last vampire he had seen? He regretted his choice everyday of his last few years and he didn’t know if he would be able to mourn one more person.

He looked down at Louis and saw your crying eyes stare back at him. He looked up instantly.

“You will regret this for the rest of your life.” He said. Yet he didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Louis. Maybe both. He walked to the little girl on the floor and picked her body with ease. Poor thing was covered in burns and couldn’t open her eyes. His blue eyes found Louis’s relieved shoulders and his fangs found the girl’s small neck.

[nanamistiee]

megumi is a soft & gentle lover, change my mind. // headcanons

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ megumi fushiguro as your boyfriend head canons ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

✧ megumi's love languages are definitely touch and acts of service. he's not exactly the grabby/public PDA type, but he almost exclusively has some sort of contact with you at all times. his hand gently hovering over the small of your back. his knee touching yours when you two are sitting next to each other. his pinky looped around yours when you two are walking. all of his touches are subtle but so meaningful.

✧ god forbid you're leaning near a counter or a sharp edge; you have a pair of watchful eyes hovering over you, and, unbeknownst to you, a hand quickly rushes to cover the corner so that you can't bump it and accidentally hurt yourself. he's protective and always keeps an eye on you as best he can. if you two are out shopping in the busy streets of tokyo, he's wrapping an arm around your shoulders and neck and pulling you closer to him. megumi is the type of boyfriend to always make sure you're walking on the 'inside' of the street, even if anyone else thinks its corny. your safety matters to him more than anything

✧ some of megumi's flirting is definitely being a bit mean. he would never purposely hurt your feelings, but, some days he's definitely calling you a dummy with a bright red flush on his face.

✧ he's a lot more confident in text. this is where you get most of the my beautiful girl and you're the prettiest girl i've ever laid my eyes on. megumi is the absolute sappiest texter. this does not mean he won't say any of this stuff out loud, though. late at night, he's burrying his head in the crook of your neck and telling you he doesn't deserve you; you're perfect and you're all and more he could've ever asked for. it's a lot easier for him to show his affections, but the rare moments he's able to voice it, he goes above and beyond to let you know how much he loves you.

✧ megumi is just a bit posessive. to yuji and nobara, you're almost exclusively 'my girl'. they love teasing him about it, but he's totally unashamed.

✧ as a matter of fact, there's nothing embarrassing to him when it comes to you. you want him to hold your purse? absolutely, he'll throw it over his shoulder and rock it as you two are walking around tokyo. you want to go into the makeup store? he's already inside and picking out a lipstick he thinks would look pretty on you. you want to swatch all kinds of makeup in said store? hell, his sleeves are already rolled up and he's anticipating being your human guinea pig.

✧ megumi is a big fan of planning dates. he prefers relaxed or quiet spots, but he always tries to pick meaningful places to go on dates. like the park for a picnic, strolling through an art museum -- hell, he's definitely even a 'let's watch the stars' kind of guy. he's not just taking you somewhere he wants to go. god forbid you mention wanting to try a new restaurant or go visit a new place; he's already googling it and formulating a plan in his mind of when he can bring you there.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ thanks for reading owo my ask box is always open !! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[radioisntdead]

Good evening folks! Here's a drabble I wrote as a warm up, not my best work but it's short And it was written at three am, Enjoy!

The radio man's Wife

Alastor x female reader

Warnings:

Human Alastor, murder, Not much Alastor in here but he's here, victim blaming the dead people

You could ask anyone who had met her and they would tell you that The local radio host's wife was the sweetest person they had ever met, a real angel on earth, she'd help out her neighbors, delivering fresh baked goods to those in need, she'd help take care of the neighborhood kids while their parents got away for a night,

She was a saint, who was to know that she had married a monster? She was just another unwilling victim right?

After all,

She was just so kind!

but even those who appear kind could do the cruelest of things, sweet words secretly drenched in venom, dressed in soft unsuspecting colors, her eyes that held nothing but fondness for the person she married and distain for those who stood against him, for those who ran his name through the mud.

She'd gleefully turn a blind eye to the wicked acts he did, being nothing but a bystander, at most she threw a few sickly sweet words to the victims that left them feeling sick to the pits of their stomaches before they perished.

She'd clean up any remaining mess he left behind, making any leftover carnage into fertilizer for her beautiful garden, mopping up the blood stained floors, or digging up a deep grave in the nearby woods for him to drag a body or two into.

She willingly laid next to someone who had countless people's blood on his hands, she'd give nothing but a love-filled smile at him,

She'd dance with a repeat murderer while soft jazz played on the radio each night after dinner, after the dishes were done and dried He'd take her hand and they'd dance.

She'd give a small kiss on the cheek, telling him to stay safe and leave him to his business slaughtering folks.

After all they deserved it right? They weren't truly good folks, Her and her dear Alastor believed ? that wholeheartedly, and Honestly it's their own fault for being easy targets

Right?

No one would believe you if you told them beforehand that the charming radio host, Alastor was a cold blooded murderer who had claimed multiple lives,

After all he was so charming, always with that smile on his face that could make anyone swoon, although you could never exactly know what he was thinking, people adored his voice and his radioshow where he'd play the tunes of the time, and briefly speak about the recent disappearances of people, telling everyone to stay safe.

It's truly the charming ones you should look out for.

It was only revealed when someone hunting in the dead of night mistook her dearest Alastor for a deer, shooting him swiftly through the head, killing him almost instantly, leaving him to be bitten and torn by man's best friend.

The phonecall she got when it was discovered was heart wrenching,

Her beloved Radio host went from charming to his name being thrown around, treated like a monster, [Which he was, he killed people] his office was cleaned out swiftly after being searched for anything alluding to his crimes, the home they shared was searched and torn apart for evidence as she sobbed into the arms of a supportive, unsuspecting neighbor,

After everything went down she was either scorned or deemed a unfortunate lady who unknowingly married a murderous monster, she had parts of the community that took pity bring around casseroles and give her words of comfort.

It couldn't have been more then a year since Alastor had gone, a family member of one of his victims wanted revenge, however since the murderer was already six feet under, why not go for his widow?

In the dead of night carrying a gun he crept into the home she once shared with her beloved, he moved passed the picture frames on the walls, from events, Their wedding photos and pictures of family, all were hung up neatly.

He opened the door, a creaking noise rung out throughout the house,

He moved forward towards the bed where the widow laid, deep in a slumber she'd never wake up from,

The man lifted up the gun and shot her right in the heart, She didn't know what hit her.

Arising from the ground she brushed herself off, the sight of brimstone and the harsh smell of sulfur filled her nose,

She didn't know what killed her, maybe a heart attack? Perhaps she choked on something in her sleep? Well there was no use in wondering, what's done is done, and from the looks of it she definitely ended up in hell, wasn't surprising after all she did help out her husband in his crimes.

With a quick look at herself, she made a face at the animal ears that protruded from her head, along with the matching tail on her back, shaking her head she began walking around to explore the place.

She supposed it was time to go find her dearly departed darling now wasn't it?

Good evening folks! Thank you for reading!

I'm making my way through requests and a couple of them will hopefully be out within the week! Stay tuned!

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Broken Angel

Warning ⚠️; blood, death, implied smut, a bit of French 🔞

Pairing; bottom!Lestat/top!Male!Reader

Summary; You witnessed Claudia and Louis dispose of Lestat’s body and decided to heal him. The beginning of the strangest and yet strongest relationship you ever had.

~~~~~~~~

It was a night like no other. The sky was clear, allowing you to admire the moon and stars while the breeze played with your coat and scarf. Through the mix of odours, you were able to smell the scents of vampires. You didn't expect to run into a coven, but as you were about to turn around and leave their territory, a new scent reached you; vampire blood.

It has been years since you witnessed a vampire being killed and wondered what had happened. Curiosity won over your sense of survival and you walked toward what you thought to be the crime scene.

What wasn't your surprise when hidden in the shadow, you saw a child and a man dispose of a body in the trash. Even from a distance, you could tell those three were vampires. You moved, slowly, making sure the wind wouldn't alert them of your presence. You wondered if there was a chance to save their victim. After all, if the body hadn't been burned, then there was a chance the poor man could survive.

But a vampire child? The thought horrified you. You never thought those could be created and who would do such a horrible thing? Being stuck in the body of a child for all eternity seemed like a curse to you and you would prefer the deadly embrace of the sun than to even live a minute like that.

You waited for the murderous duo to leave before approaching the trash. Once you were sure neither vampire would notice you, you walked up to their victim. You recognized the name almost instantly. Lestat de Lioncourt. Who wouldn't recognize that angelic face of his? You never met Lestat before, you being way older and more of a lone wolf, but you saw portraits of him.

You didn't hesitate before scooping Lestat out of the trash and carrying him away. The smell of his blood nauseated you in the worst way possible, reminding you of why you kept your distance from your kin. The constant fights and murders were too much for you. Even as a human, you witnessed your fair share of massacres and didn't want to see more.

You took Lestat to your place and laid him down in your coffin. You didn't clean him, no. Because the first thing you did was to feed Lestat. Opening your own wrist, you let your blood pour into Lestat’s mouth and gently massaged his throat to help him swallow. The effect didn't take time and you watched his wound slowly heal.

You have to hold him down as Lestat comes back to himself, trashing around in a panicked state. You can only watch as tears of blood roll down his cheeks and he claws at your arms. The fear and despair in those beautiful eyes are enough to soften your stone heart. You help him clean up in silence, bathing him and making sure all wounds are closed. It's a heavy and uncomfortable silence, yet you don't dare say anything.

Just like you heard of Lestat, he has heard of you. The lone wolf, a bloody vampire killer who had slaughtered many covens in his younger years. But now you avoid everything and everyone, preferring the calm that came with solitude.

Until Lestat came into your life.

And as the days pass, you hunt for the two of you since Lestat isn't in any shape to help. May it be mentally or physically, the younger vampire is useless. But you can't keep it against him. After all, it's his own mate and child who tried to murder him. When Lestat told you of what happened, you felt a shiver run down your spine and anger fill you. How dared they? How could they?

For some reason, you feel a wind of protectiveness toward Lestat. Maybe it's his angelic face, maybe it's the pain and grief in his eyes, but you can't resist the urge to keep him safe. Maybe that why Lestat stay by your side, even when he is completely healed and free to leave, Lestat stay with you. And as time passed, you two grew closer to each other.

You never had a mate or a coven but with Lestat, you found both. It was Lestat who did all the first steps, trying to win you over. He would hunt and catch your favourite kind of prey, find your favourite things and give them to you. Lestat was shameless as well, walking around you with nothing covering him but the blood of his latest victims hoping you would lick it.

Yes.

Lestat de Lioncourt was shameless and knew what he wanted; you. And you didn't have the strength to push him away.

You allowed him to share your coffin even if Lestat had his own, enjoying the weight of his body in your arms when you woke up. The way he nuzzled himself against you, nose buried in your neck and fang nibbling at the tender flesh. Lestat knew how to charm and win you over. And God be your witness because you did fall for him, hard.

You thought nothing could disturb your new-found peace, but of course, Lestat was a trouble magnet. It all started when Lestat decided to take you to France, then Paris even tho he knew how you hated being around other vampires. Yet he knew you would never tell him no. You couldn't deny anything to your shameless angel.

Except being among dozens and dozens of vampires.

- “I am sorry mon Ange, but I cannot follow you there.” You whispered against his lips. “I wish I could follow you and…”

- “Then. Do. It.” Lestat had cut you short, hands gripping your chemise and lips pressed against yours. “I need you by my side. I. Need. You. Who else will keep me safe?”

There it is. The manipulation, the words that can make you move mountains for that drama queen. Because he is right; who can keep him safe when he will have to face both of his murderers in a parody of a trial? But more importantly, who will be there for support when he witnesses their death? Because Claudia and Louis might have tried to murder him, Lestat still cared and loved them.

But not you, no. You were glad those two were going to suffer and face the consequences of their actions.

So you give in and follow, hating every second of it.

Your only pleasure is to see the pain and jealousy in Louis’ eyes as you sit in the luxurious chair and Lestat sit on your lap. Arms wrapped around your lover, you keep him against you and allow him to silently brag about taming you.

The trial is a joke, pathetic and boring. But those are theatrical vampires so of course they are making it extra for no reason. That is until Lestat actually save his former lover. You feel Lestat's tensing body and hear him use his powers, everything he had to save the very man who tried to kill him. It makes you angry until you see tears of blood in his eyes. The pain of the betrayal is still there, but those are vampires Lestat had loved with what was left of his heart and soul.

Then, Claudia’s death.

You had expected it and wished for it, but witnessing it changed everything. Seeing her small body convulse and twist in pain broke your stony heart. You felt despair as you saw how broken Lestat was, his eyes not leaving his daughter as she burned to death. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, whispered sweet words of comfort in his mind and made promises sweeter night and revenge.

And what a bloody revenge was it.

The whole Parisian coven gone, massacred by your very hands and those of Louis.

In the end, you stand behind Lestat as the coven’s theatre burns and you are left facing Louis and Armand. You can still see the jealousy in Louis’ eyes which makes you smile and kiss Lestat’s neck, who leans in your touch.

Lestat’s final goodbye to Louis sounds official like he has turned the page on their relationship, which makes you more than happy. Lestat is now fully yours and no one will ever take him away from you.

But as you reach your home, Lestat breaks in your arms. Tears of blood rolled down his porcelain cheeks. You can do nothing but hold him tightly, letting him grieve his daughter and lover. You know he regrets Claudia’s death, even if you don't, just like you know it will haunt him forever.

- “Cry mon ange brisé, cry and let it all out. Ta douleur est mienne, mon coeur et je suis désolé.” you whisper in his hair as you gently rock him.

You are sorry. Sorry he is so hurt and broken, something you know and understand. And as Lestat melted under your touch, you swore to protect him, swore that those tears are blood are the last one Lestat cried. Yes. You'll never let anyone break your angel.

[shockercoco]

Only Pleasure Remains

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, penetration, dirty talk, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, basically enemies to lovers

Word count - 3608

a/n - this was supposed to be posted over a week ago, but I kept procrastinating on finishing it. This is also my longest imagine so far lol. Disclaimer: I haven't read the books yet I've only seen the movies, but I just ordered the first one. I hope you enjoy :)

You’re currently pacing back and forth in one of the vip suites, waiting for the fight to start. It’s the fight that will determine whether or not you’ll have to marry the most deranged person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Feyd Rautha is known for being unhinged in and out of the arena. It could be because of his past that he lacks compassion, or he just has no regard for anyone other than himself. He’ll kill anyone in an instant without blinking an eye, but sometimes he’ll take his time to enjoy the moment.

You’ve never talked to Feyd and have only looked at him from a distance each time you visited the planet for your father to discuss business matters. When he would join the meetings you would avoid eye contact, but he would always watch you. When you guys would pass each other in the corridors you would keep your head down and walk faster, but you knew he was looking at you. You never knew if he was looking at you like a piece of meat or an actual human being. What really made you sick is that, despite his horrific personality, you still found him attractive.

Recently your father and Baron Harkonnen had a huge argument and couldn’t come to an agreement, and of course the only way to resolve the issue is with a battle with you as collateral. It wasn't completely out of the blue since  your father was somewhat close to the Baron, but it was a terrible proposition. Baron Harkonnen wants to make sure his bloodline is secure before he dies and Feyd takes control, but of all the women in the universe he had to pick you.

So now here you are a week later, along with the other citizens inside the arena, waiting to see the outcome of the fight. You already know what it will be though, everyone knows it, but you’re hoping that just this once the outcome will be different.

Eventually, you hear Feyd’s name being announced to the crowd followed by him strutting into the arena with no emotion on his face. You can’t bring yourself to watch the fight so you turn your back as soon as it starts, not even bothering to take a seat. The arena is dead silent once the fight starts, allowing you to hear the clashing of swords and the shouts coming from each man. 

It’s not long before Feyd’s announced as the winner, as usual, and the crowd erupts in cheers. You turn back around and catch sight of the dead bodies splayed around Feyd who's basking in the praise from the sea of people in the stands. Turning your head to your left you lock eyes with your father who gives you an apologetic smile, but you just shake your head not knowing what to say to him. You take one last look into the arena and at Feyd’s face, before leaving.

The guards already knew of the arrangement and wouldn’t let you stray too far from the grounds of the house. It didn’t take long for you to find out about the several lady’s maids you now had – more than back home – because they basically circled around you until you finally told them that you didn’t need them at the moment. One remained close behind you though.

When you were shown to your room, you were met with one that was far from small. You had a king size bed, a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a balcony that allowed you to look out into the distance at the skyline. You notice your knick knacks and personal items were scattered around the room on tables and shelves, and your clothes had already been unpacked and inside the closet.

They really don’t waste time here.

As beautiful as the room was, it couldn’t replace the one you had back home – the life you had back home.

Later that night after you bathed, you were about to call it a day and just crawl under the covers, but you decided against it. Luckily there was no one standing outside of your room or lurking in the hallway, but there was still a chance of you getting caught by one of the guards or by one of the Baron’s henchmen.

Even though you’ve been here many times, you have only gone to the places that were necessary: the throne room, restrooms, dining hall, and the room for meetings. As you walked you noticed that many of the rooms were either locked or empty. You did manage to find a room full of paintings and another resembling an armory that seemed to be for display only. 

Some of the items were tarnished, some looked extremely fragile, and some still had the blood on it from the time it was used. When you heard a pair of paced footsteps, you decided to make your way to the other side of the house to continue your exploration and to avoid being seen.

The other side gave you a completely different vibe, mainly because the corridors were barely lit. The main source of light came from the fireworks exploding outside, an applaud for Feyd. You started to wish you had brought a candle or anything that could grant you more light since the ceiling lights weren’t helping much. The farther you walked, you started to feel more and more uneasy. You felt like someone was watching you, which is ironic because this wasn’t the best lighting for seeing.

Feeling it was time to end the exploration, you turn around and start to head back but stop when you hear something. Or, at least you thought you heard something. It was dead silent except for the faint sounds of explosions. You were about to keep walking when you felt someone wrap their arm around and press a blade to your neck. The person’s scent is familiar though, reminding you of what you would smell every time you walked past Feyd.

Was he just casually hiding in the shadows?

“What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?” you hear Feyd ask from behind you in his usual raspy voice, the rasp that you love but will never admit outloud.

You're relieved that it’s not a random person, but still a little fearful given the fact he could end your life at any second. The thought practically paralyzes you.

“I was just about to head back to my room,” your response is short.

“That doesn’t answer what I asked. No one’s allowed this way,” Feyd says as he circles around to stand in front of you with the edge of his blade still pressed to your neck. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you around. Aren’t you that lord’s daughter, the one I’m so supposed to be marrying?”

You were about to just give him a simple nod, but then remember the blade pressed against your throat. “Yes.”

He waits a moment as he looks at you before moving his hand away and leaving it to hang by his side along with the blade. Despite being surrounded by darkness, his blade still manages to shine. You automatically take a step back.

“I could’ve killed you, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t care too much.

“To be fair you had a blade pressed to my neck,” you answer as Feyd’s dark eyes stare into yours. He doesn’t reply right away as he looks you up and down. His stare makes you feel exposed considering you’re only wearing a thin nightgown covered by a robe. Unconsciously, you begin to play with your fingers behind your back. Feyd notices your fidgeting though.

“Are you scared of me?” he suddenly asks, and you’re not sure how to reply. Everyone is scared of him, but is he genuinely asking or is he trying to get a kick out of this?

“No,” you choose to say, and he smirks.

He starts to slowly walk around you as he continues speaking. “No? Do I just make you nervous then? It has to be something because you’ve always avoided eye contact with me, and I know how you would distance yourself from me on purpose. In fact, this is the first conversation we’ve had. Come on now, we’re going to be married soon, we should be able to talk to each other,” he smirks.

Well, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Isn’t that how you want people around you to feel? Everyone has their weakness, what’s yours?” you question as he continues to circle you.

He doesn’t hesitate to say, “I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has one,” you pause as you think then say, “what about the women you always have around? Everyone knows you’re a playboy, that sounds like a weakness to me.”

He stops in front of you to look down at you and into your eyes with the smirk still on his face. “That sounds like jealousy to me.” 

“It’s simply an observation,” you shrug. 

“You know, I usually don’t let the women I sleep with talk to me like this,” he says with a tilt of the head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that for you I guess I will make an exception, given the fact you’re my bride and all,” he says before he circles behind you again to press his body up against yours. He leans into your ear to whisper, “but just this time.”

You wish you could stop the goosebumps from appearing on your skin or the shiver that works its way through your body. You thought Feyd wouldn’t notice, but he must’ve because he leans back with a light chuckle. Right now all you want to do is slap him across the face for his arrogance and yourself for the way your body reacted to his words. 

“I won’t sleep with you just yet, my darling, but it will happen soon because it’s obvious you can’t wait,” Feyd says as he slowly backs away from you. You turn around wanting to say something else, but before you get the chance he says, “run along now, it’s getting late.”

He keeps that smug look on his face as you give him one last look before leaving. Your mind tells you to hate him, but your body says otherwise as a warm feeling travels through your core as you walk back to your room.

You also hate how every night after part of you expects Feyd to walk through your bedroom door. He didn’t come the night after your encounter in his corridor. He didn’t come the next night either or the night after that. You knew it was foolish waiting for a man that has his own sex slaves – a man that you’re supposed to detest.

It isn’t until the fourth day that Feyd arrives at your door; little did you know Feyd was having his own internal conflict. He hadn’t used any of his slaves since that night he caught you in his corridor, not feeling the need for them. He also was not a fan of his feelings toward you.

You were standing out on your balcony enjoying the night breeze when you heard a knock on your door. You knew it could only be one of your lady’s maids at this time, so you didn’t hesitate to tell the person outside the door to come in as you took a couple steps back into your room. In walked a lady’s maid that you have grown quite fond of over the past couple of days.

“There’s a visitor here for you, would you like me to send them in,” she asks.

You wanted to say no given the current time, but you nodded anyway and watched as she walked back out. Not even a few seconds later, Feyd replaces her spot covered in a black robe, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and closes the bedroom door behind him.

Your body stiffens, nearly stuck to the ground, as you quickly try to figure out your emotions in your head. Feyd takes his time walking towards you as he looks around your room, and this gives you enough time to pull yourself together. You step back out onto the balcony as he gets closer and closer, and he follows you out there.

“Nice view don’t you think?” he asks as he stands next to you, looking out into the distance.

“Did you really come here to ask me about the view?” you look up at him.

“Straight to the point, I like it,” he smirks.

“Straight to what point?” you act dumb and put some space in between the two of you.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he tilts his head down at you.

“Apparently to talk about the view,” you reply in a joking manner and look out into the distance to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his jaw tighten.

“You’re making this hard.”

“What?” you ask, still not looking at him. You want him to hear him say outloud what he wants.

Except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between the two of you as he places his lips on yours and his hands on your cheeks. The force he uses startles you and pushes you back a couple steps, but you recover and grab onto his wrists as you begin kissing him back.

You wonder for a second if you’re giving in too easily, but the feeling of Feyd’s grip on you tosses the idea out of your mind.

Feyd hated how needy and desperate he felt as his lips attacked  yours. The kiss was rough, but Feyd was trying to hold himself back from going too far. Normally he wouldn’t care about how rough or gentle he was with a woman because his slaves never complained — not like they had a choice — and some of them even came to him first to satisfy their own needs. This time though, it was him coming to you.

Feyd deepens the kiss, keeping his hold on your face firm, as he starts to push you back into your bedroom. Once your legs hit the bed, he unties the knot on your robe before slowly peeling it off your shoulders leaving you nothing but your nightgown and undergarments. He breaks the kiss to push you back, and you scoot your body into the center of the bed.

 The way he focuses on you as he stands at the bottom of the bed makes you feel like one of Feyd’s opponents in the arena. The thought sends warmth between your legs.

He takes off his own robe leaving him in only his underwear before he starts to crawl on the bed, trailing a hand up one of your ankles up to your thigh, until he’s hovering above you. Your breathing is shallow and your heart races in anticipation for what’s to come. The only other person you've had sex with was one of your close friends back on your home planet, and you enjoyed it, but that friend wasn’t Feyd. He wasn’t a murderous maniac known for his sexual relations like Feyd was. Another wave of electricity passes through your body.

Feyd dips his head down and starts placing kisses on your neck from your ear to your collarbone,  making a low whine escape your lips. All the while, the hand gripping your thigh inches farther north until it reaches your panties and begins to touch you through them. It doesn’t take too long for a wet spot to appear on the fabric, and it’s obvious that Feyd notices too, seeing as how you can feel a smirk form on his lips. You squeeze your legs together wanting more from him, but Feyd pushes your legs back open and bites the skin on your neck.

You draw in a breath as he whispers into your ear, “be patient.” His voice may be light, but you can hear the firmness behind it.

He moves his face away from your neck and takes his time as he moves his body lower and lower until his face is between your thighs. He pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them to the side, and helps you dispose of your nightgown revealing your bare body to him. You start to wish that your bedroom lights were off as you look down to see Feyd’s dark eyes taking all of you in.

A smile spreads across his face once he notices you shying up. “There’s no hiding from me now.”

He says nothing else and dives right into you. His movements are rough yet gentle as he eats you out, resembling hunger. The way he flicks his tongue over you like a snake has your back arching while you let out a consistent string of moans. You tightly grab hold of the blanket beneath you with both hands as you move your hips into his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes from the speed of his tongue.

Feyd places one hand onto your stomach before moving it up to one of your breasts to grab hold of, while his other hand joins his lips between your thighs. He wastes no time slipping a finger into you as he moves his mouth up to suck harshly on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. One of your hands lets go of the blanket to join Feyd’s on your breast.

The finger inside of you pumps into you at a measured pace before gradually getting faster. He decides to add another finger without letting up on his speed. You can tell that him pleasuring you gives him satisfaction, noticing the fact that he’s in his own world. Naturally, your body starts to move away from his mouth and your legs start to close as the pleasure becomes more intense.

Feyd releases his hold on your clit and lifts up his head to make eye contact with you. “I need you to stay still,” he tells you in more of a warning tone and pulls you back to his mouth before continuing, not waiting for you to answer.

Once you feel your orgasm nearing your moans get louder as they turn into whines. Feyd notices the way you become shaky and how you start writing around more so he moves his mouth away and pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the warmth previously building up in your stomach slowly starting to fade away. You’re about to say something when he looks into your eyes and shushes you.

He then moves his hand on your breast and places it on your stomach, gently adding pressure. You’re confused and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. 

Then suddenly you feel his fingers start to move inside you again, except this time at a different pace. He begins to quickly pump his fingers in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back as your back lifts off the bed. You feel yourself getting close to tumbling over the edge again, although this time it feels different. It’s unlike all the other times you have brought yourself to an orgasm.

Right as your orgasm hits you, you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you. You cum with a loud cry, forgetting the fact that the doors to your balcony are still wide open. When the thought pops into your mind you don’t even care about anyone being able to hear you.

Feyd stops when you move your hands down to try and push him away. He looks down at his chest to see the mess you created and lets out a low laugh. As your body starts to relax, you look down to see Feyd standing at the bottom of the bed pulling down his underwear to reveal his hard length to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he tells you as he positions himself between your legs.

He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit spreading your arousal around. You let out a whine at his teasing and he says, “ready for another one, are we?”

He doesn’t stop right away, but when he finally glides into your soaked opening it pulls a moan out of both of you. He places his arms on either side of your head and leans down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and sloppy, and you tightly wrap your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you. You don’t even care if you seem desperate anymore.

You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but Feyd doesn’t care as he ruthlessly pounds into you. Once he finds the spot inside of you that makes you gasp, he makes a mental note of it as he repeatedly thrusts into it.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Feyd’s back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 

With another smirk he firmly grips your jaw and says, “I hope you can take a few more, my darling.”

[etheries1015]

Endless amount of marriage proposals. From your first meeting, to your very last. You couldn't help it, even being human and he a fae, General Lilia was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon.

Since your first meeting with him, despite being under threat of his weapon and nearing the end of the war, you had uttered with stars in your eyes your first proposal.

"Please marry me!" Your hands gripped the weapon with anticipation of his answer, Lilias eyes widening as he was taken back from the request. THIS was who he was meant to work with for the next however long? This was the human who stragitized and turned their back on the humans to aid the fae? How pathetic, he thought. He could never see himself remotely getting along with someone as air headed and brash as you.

You had a lot of perseverance, Lilia would give you that much. Yet no matter the amount of times you would pop the question "Will you marry me yet?" he ignored your advances and continued to brush you off, yet each time his resolve had lessen more and more. He could feel your words begin to affect him, and he was not liking it. He had to do something, and fast.

Thus, your simple words of affection drove him to blowing up at you, saying words he would soon come to regret and know deep down in his heart simply was not true. It would never happen! You're nothing but a feeble human in his eyes, and he would never love you. He wanted that much to be clear, that there was a line between you two. At least, to convince himself as much.

The final meeting was much sooner than he thought it would be. He could have sworn he had more time, you were so young, you were supposed to have a life ahead of you. You were supposed to continue to pursue him and break his walls down, to finally free him of his lonely life. He could feel his resolve fading, you were supposed to ask again that evening, yet there you were, bleeding out against the forest floor from an ambush that was unanticipated. You were caught unawares as you gathered herbs in the forest, Lilia now regretting his rejection to your extended invitation out of petty anger from the argument that ensued just the night prior.

Lilia was the first to find you. Hovering over your body with his long strands of hair cupping your frail body. He held your dying body as you moved your hand to his cheeks, cold fingers hesitantly pressing them against his soft pale skin suprised to witness wet tears staining them. You had never seen the general cry before, surely they were tears of happiness that you would stop pestering him with the question of marriage? Or perhaps on the flip side, you wondered. "Have I stolen your heart yet?" You breathed out with your same teasing smile, Lilia gripping your hand tighter as a tear slipped out of his glossed over ruby eyes and onto your muddied cheek.

"You have. A long time ago."

Alternative ending here

[kaisaerinlover]

dark content

tw: abuse

laying in bed with kaiser after an extra rough day, a day where he was so much worse than usual. a day where your whole body is left aching in pain. kaiser doesn’t offer you any help or care other than picking you up where you lay limp on the floor to toss you onto the bed so he can feel your warmth next to him.

you’re laid on the pillow trying your hardest not to move, every time you move it feels like a thousand bricks are being tossed at you nonstop. feels like hammers are beating at you. you’re so broken right now it hurts. but that’s what you get for dating someone like kaiser; you shouldn’t play angel with a guy like him. shouldn’t play the “i can fix him” game with someone who is more than just sad inside. someone who’s pain and hurt from the precious years of childhood manifested into a terrifying amalgamation of twisted morals and sick behaviour. you shouldn’t play those types of games with a man like kaiser, because he’s not like anyone you will meet or have ever met in your life. any therapist would truly have a field day with this boy because the amount of times he would have to be in their office is more than infinite, if it’s even possible. it’s impossible, but not for him. fitting for him. he could get better, but his mindset doesn’t allow this. he won’t change it anytime soon, that’s why you’re laid in complete and utter agony trying to bite back the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. even breathing is painful.

he’s next to you, looking like nothing even happened at all. he looks beautiful, hair tied up into a neat little bun at the back, glasses on, face illuminated by the awfully expensive antique lamp you insisted he buy the other month. he’s reading something, your vision is too blurry to see what he’s reading. the sound of him flipping the pages every so often is soothing, you could almost forget about the burning pain you have all over your body. almost forget how he looked as he punched you over and over; screamed at you again. how terrifying it is to be beneath him as he gets so violent with you.

it’s not fair, it’s really not. it’s not fair how he treats you when you are so kind to him; so gentle. sometimes he treats you with the same sweetness you taught him, but it’s not common. but you are different; you would never react back to him with the same brutality his actions teach you. you are a good person, your heart is big and your compassion swells for him even after he treats you like this. you couldn’t explain why even if you wanted to, human nature of this degree is wordless, unexplainable and weird. it’s illogical, but that’s one of the most beautiful things about humans.

that’s kaiser’s opinion anyway, he has you wrapped around his pinky finger. he can hear your shaky breathing next to him; he smirks to himself.

you look at him when you hear him fold the corner of the page of his book so he can find it easier later, and place his book down on the bedside table. you’re waiting for him to turn off the lamp, but he doesn’t yet. your boyfriend clears his throat and looks forwards into the rest of the very luxurious bedroom you both share. “hey, engel” he doesn’t even bother looking at you as he talks. he obviously lacks respect for you. and you acknowledged this long ago. and you stay. you stay with him. you wait silently for him to continue. silence is the best answer after a day like this - he’s impossible to predict. whatever is inside of him follows no logical pattern, if you say the wrong thing you’ll anger him more. “do you know why i hurt humans?” he still isn’t looking at you. you don’t talk still, you don’t bother looking at him anymore. the bruise on your neck that’s darkening even now, hours after the beating, is hurting too much. you stare at the ceiling as you listen to him talk.

he’s smirking as he talks, looking out into the bedroom with his hands behind his head. he carries on again, his voice never lacks confidence “it makes me feel alive.” you never quite understood that about him, you’re still quiet, listening to him, but you extend your arm anyway and lay it awkwardly on his chest despite the pain that shoot’s up the entirety of your arm from doing so. he acknowledges your smaller hand messily splayed across his chest by bringing his own bigger hand to squeeze it tightly, painfully even. he bent your fingers back today a lot, they still ache.

he doesn’t look you in the eye still as he talks. and you don’t want to look him in the eye either. you just both stare into the dimly lit surroundings as you maintain some semblance of skin to skin contact. “i’ve hurt a lot of humans before” he laughs a little. you gasp a bit and jump as he squeezes your hand painfully tight, obviously intending to hurt you. “but hurting you makes me feel the most alive.” your chest is hurting and your hand is crushed so immensely between his much bigger one. you heard the sickening crack of your fingers. you sort of wish he wouldn’t let go, you don’t want to see the damage. purple is a pretty colour, but not when it’s on your fragile skin.

kaiser squeezes hard, he can’t feel alive in any other way than this. than checking his heart rate in a morning. than looking in the mirror and seeing himself standing there, seeing himself in the flesh and knowing he’s alive. he loosens his grip on your hand though and turns to lay on his side to face you. he looks pretty like this, you’re looking at him as well; head propped on his free hand, the other reaching out to caress your battered cheek. he likes seeing what he did to you earlier, likes when he can assess the damage himself. it makes him feel so alive. and even though you won’t admit it his battery makes you feel equally as alive as he does. “you know, prinzessin, i’ve never been hurt before though.” blatant lie, he knows it is, you’ll believe it. he chooses to push his childhood far far behind him. he doesn’t associate with that time of his life, any memory of it that replays will only be viewed in a third person point of view. he doesn’t know that weak child anymore. “wanna know why?” and you give him a response for the first time. you nod and look up at him with your big glassy eyes. you’re like a broken toy, but you know that someone like kaiser can appreciate a broken toy. poor kids who grow up with nothing will accept anything. wealthless kids, abused kids who grow up and enter society as sickeningly ill in the head adults will stop accepting anything, they’ll only accept the familiar brokenness they know best. and if it’s not there in the person they want, they’ll make it themselves.

“it’s because i’m not human.” kaiser doesn’t see himself as human, the opposite actually. having a superiority complex is fun, but it’s less fun when it’s to cover up the hideous truth beneath. he’s caressing your beaten face so tenderly right now, as you deserve. for once he’s treating you kindly. he’s subhuman. but he’s also something better, he’s above everyone else. his intellect is a mean feat in any terms of human endeavour. his talent is unrivalled. he can do things no one else can. michael kaiser can make the impossible into a reality. michael kaiser can give hope to those who thought they could never dream again. he looks at the tattoo on his hand instead of your eyes, the tattooed hand that’s caressing your face; the face he’s grown to both love and despise over the years. the face he wants to destroy beneath his rough fists. the face he wants to hold gently and leave a kiss on. his tattoo is a reminder he’s above everyone else, but also that he’s a piece of shit. he has narcissistic tendencies but it’s mostly a cover up. even he doesn’t believe in his delusions sometimes.

poor you has to bear the brunt of that, but whilst he’s caressing your face you can forget about all the burden you’re forced to carry because of the emotional baggage your boyfriend brings to the relationship. he sighs. he can’t even look you in the eye. he stares off into the window, the one that rain is trickling against now. the city is beautiful at night, but you’re more beautiful. you’re pretty. so cute. süsser prinzessin. but he can’t bring himself to look at you right now. “i’m not like the rest of you, and i never will be.” you can’t tell what he’s thinking when he says that; but you’ve always been an empath. your hand finds its way back to his and you push it from your cheek and intertwine it between the fingers he hurt so much.

you make him feel so alive, hurting you is the best thrill he could get in life. bringing any harm to you is also the most saddening thing. you’re so nice to him even now, someone like him doesn’t deserve it. he’s a subhuman piece of shit and you love him. he’s also a god, renowned by many. he’s a subhuman who needs to be loved and he’s a cruel cold hearted god who needs to be taught gentleness and kindness. he just rubs his thumb over the back of your smaller hand and sighs. he’s a confident guy, no doubt about it, but maybe you won’t be around forever. maybe you will pack up and leave one day - he’s tried every trick in the book to ensure you stay, not that he even has to do that, because you would undoubtedly, but he can’t help but be worried.

it’s shameful to admit that maybe an emperor does need a princess sometimes. he rubs your hand in circle motions and presses a kiss to your forehead. he’s sorry, he’s so fucking sorry for doing this to you. he doesn’t know why he’s like this; you deserve so much more than this. infinity times infinity more. you’re really his princess, he’s sorry. sorry that he treats you like this. sorry that instead of affection all you get most of the time is his fists bearing into you over and over, a barrage of attacks until he’s finally decided you learned your lesson.

you don’t have anything to learn. kaiser loathes you because you’re a perfect human. you’re beautiful and you’re compassionate. you have a big heart and a big personality and he likes your stupid jokes you tell. and he hates that you stay with him. you’re so perfect, you really are. you notice his eyes are glossy. he hates to cry; kaiser fucking hates crying. you also know your boyfriend hates crying, so you open your mouth for the first time tonight. “i love you, micha.” a sweet whisper of love. he feels your other hand, your other thumb wiping up the small amount of wetness beginning to form on his lashes. only you could notice that, god he fucking hates you. “i love you too” he confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability.

you fall asleep in his arms, and he falls asleep too. he’s squeezing you so tightly, he’s holding you so close like you’re something so precious; like a thief of the night might come and steal you from him. every inch of your body aches from his earlier barbarity, but you didn’t care whilst falling asleep and you won’t care when you wake up. your heart is so pure that you simply don’t have the capacity to care about anything other than your boyfriends wellbeing and happiness.

kaiser is thankful he gets to even lay next to you. you’re not one of the same at all. but sometimes he debates your humanity as much as his own; you’re an angel.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

OUUH WHAT ABOUT spencer watching her do her makeup, pick out an outfit, get dolled up to go meet his team

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 498.

a/n: AWW OMG writing this actually gave me cavities. this is probably the fluffiest thing i've ever written on this account!! i really tried to get into the mind of our precious bimbo reader, and i feel like i did a pretty good job if i do say so myself! 😏

You always liked to say that you did your best work under pressure, so why in the hell wasn’t your eyeshadow… eyeshadowing?

You looked at yourself in the vanity mirror, your gloss covered lips turned down into a deep frown. The lines caused by your frustration left behind little creases in your carefully laid foundation. You were one more mishap from a total breakdown.

Tonight was the night that you were going to meet your boyfriend’s team, which in your mind translated to his family. You had met his mom already, and she liked you, so why were you so intimidated? Maybe it was because these people were like your precious boyfriend just twenty times more terrifying.

Tonight had to go well, or you swear that you might just die!

“Spence?” You turn around in your porcelain white chair that  completely contrasts the dark coziness that was Spencer’s room. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer responds from behind the book he had his nose buried in. He had been resting against the headboard, the lower half of his body relaxed and his legs were stretched out carelessly. The advantage of being a human string-bean, you supposed.

“Does my makeup look okay?”

Your exasperated tone in your voice forced his eyes away from the page and onto yours.

He was surprised by the light tones of eyeshadow you had picked, they were a lot different from the bold pink, purples, and blues. That could only mean one thing.

“There’s no need to be anxious, honey. You look beautiful.”

Usually, you were very susceptible to Spencer’s praise, often turning bashful and shy, as well as giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl. Nope, not today. Today felt like not even the sweetest of hymns could bring you down from your anxiety ridden stupor.

“Really? Because I don’t know about the color… I feel like the eyeliner makes it look clumpy.”

Spencer Reid was trained for this, if the hours of cosmetology research he had done counted for something. Why you may ask? Well, the first time you had asked him about your makeup was when you two had first started dating, and it had unfortunately gone a little bit like this:

“Does this look okay?”

“It looks fine, angel.”

“Oh God, I should just start over, shouldn’t I?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Spencer smiles fondly, “It doesn’t look clumpy at all. In fact I think the dark and light colors complement each other well, they make your eyes look large and enchanting.”

And just like that, all of your apprehension melts away. “Oh, good!” You all but cheer.

He watches with a lovesick smile on his face as you pull out outfit-after-outfit from the closet – that’s really more yours than it is his – with an excited grin.

“How about this one?”

Spencer knows he’s in for a long night; with his book long forgotten, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that you have an hour before you guys have to leave.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Deer's Prince(ss)

Male Deertaur Yandere x Feminized Male Wolf Hybrid Reader (CW: Noncon, feminization, misgendering, inhuman genitalia, breeding, fingering, overstimulation, reader fucked out of their mind, chasing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.1k

You were sprinting through the forest, running from the prince who owned you.

Under normal circumstances, you would have been able to move a lot more stealthily and gracefully, but continued captivity had dulled your senses and abilities.

When the kingdom of the deertaurs finally won the decades long war against the wolf folk they demanded many things in the treaty to end the war.

One of the things they demanded was a princess to marry their son, marriage was a typical way to seal an agreement of peace.

But there was no princess, instead they took you. And Prince Inthil had made you into his princess. Treating you like a dainty flower instead of the proud wolf hybrid that you were! Going so far as to even dress you in frilly dresses and address as a girl… and bed you as one too…

Having had as much as you could handle you fled. You tore off the female clothing and ran naked into the woods. Treaty be damned, you didn’t deserve this!

But being pampered as a fragile little lady had made your footfalls heavy and clumsy, it may have been enough to outrun a human, but certainly not Prince Inthil. His deceptively lean body was fast and powerful, four legs carrying him like he was the wind itself.

Suddenly you felt a sharp yank on your arm. You shuddered as Inthil pulled you close, you had thought you were still a bit ahead of the deer man.

His creepy grin looked even more sinister under the light of the moon, his long blond hair softly glowing, and his eyes looking at you with twisted adoration and amusement.

If you had only been looking at his face you may have mistaken him for a beautiful woman. But his muscles, body hair on his human half, and antlers on his head proved otherwise.

“Hello my lady~ You mustn’t run off like that, it is far too dangerous for a little girly to be running around in the woods at night by herself! If you wanted a moonlit stroll, I would have accompanied you~”

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he was powerful. He lifted you up and pressed you against a tree.

“If my father knew my wife ran off like that it could start a war! Don’t worry princess, I won’t tell. After all, I am sure it just slipped your mind to ask me to come with you, RIGHT?!”

As he said that last word he roughly pulled you forward then slammed you back against the rough bark. It did not hurt much, but you gasped in surprised.

Prince Inthil took this opportunity and kissed you deeply. Hungrily. His tongue swirling around yours as it invaded your mouth.

You shivered. He finally broke the kiss, leaving you both panting for oxygen.

“Are you cold? You’re shaking so much. I know what will warm you up.”

He stroked your cheek tenderly, but you knew what that look and tone of voice meant.

You growled, baring your teeth as your tail bristled and your ears moved back, almost flat, against your head.

“Awe, I bet a nice breeding will help your sour mood too…”

There were no clothes for him to pull off of you this time. He laid you down on the cool forest floor. You started to move but he stomped a hoof on you with enough force for you to get the memo.

You did what was expected of you. Keeping your face down you arched your ass up.

“My bitch must be in heat to present her pussy so nicely for me~” He cooed in his sickeningly sweet voice.

You were sniffing as tears rolled down your face uncontrollably. You were a man and you didn’t want this, what had you ever done to anyone to deserve being forced to be a girl and raped constantly.

“Don’t cry my love. I always make love with you gently, I know how delicate you are~”

You didn’t care how gentle he was, it was still against your will and sometimes forced with a bit of pain. Like just now when he had stomped his hoof on you.

You could feel his slimy cock rubbing up against your hole, eager to slide into you, but he made himself resist the lure of your insides for a moment while he prepped you.

He did this by using the tip of his prick to massage your entrance, and lather it in precum.

Then he slowly, bit by bit, slid into your ass. He gasped as he entered you.

“G-gods princess , your cunt is amazing~”

You just fit him so well, it was like sliding into a warm glove made specifically for his 10in cock.

He was large and powerful, and like always he had to resist just pounding into you with reckless abandon. It took all his power not to.

But he had to make sure you were treated like the frail lady that you were, it wouldn’t do for him to harm a princess, it would be unthinkable.

So instead he savored it, and eventually his careful ministrations were met with your beautiful little whimpers and moans of pleasure.

You always tried to stifle them away from him, but you never managed to.

His cock was kissing your walls so tenderly, touching that spot inside you that he always seemed to find.

Prince Inthil managed to coax several orgasms out of you, making you pant and gasp with each thrust into your overstimulated body. You couldn’t help humping into your hand, desperately seeking another release as his balls finally emptied into you.

“You make such lovely sounds when we make love~”

He picked up your cum leaking body and held you close, you were so fucked out that you couldn’t do anything, your arms were like jelly from being in that pose for so long.

You muttered something incomprehensible and went limp as he put you over his shoulders. He chose to interpret the noises as a declaration of love.

“Awe, I love you too. I knew all you needed was a good breeding~”

The prince kissed the top of your head softly before smiling to himself. He just had the most wonderful idea. He’d quite like to hear those cute sounds of yours on the way home.

As he slowly hauled you back home he slid a couple fingers into your cum-lubed ass, eliciting more of those cute little gasps and moans, albeit tired and weaker ones, from your pretty mouth.

“Don’t worry darling, when we get back we can mate some more before I clean you up."

[cjjohansson]

from across the room, to between the sheets.

natasha romanoff x reader. - for months you have been longing for her. tonight it finally changes. -

reader has a penis. fluff? SMUT! oblivious reader? who knows. i don't.

18+!!!!!

It first happened at a party Tony hosted. You thought it was innocent at first. The way she kept staring at you while she stood with her boyfriend's arm around her shoulders. But everytime she looked at you, you couldn't help but stare back. Your eyes continuously move slowly down her body, drinking her in. She has always been beautiful. Sexy even. And anyone who ever told you that THE Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, wasn't beautiful or sexy…were simply blind or idiots. 

You could talk about her for hours. Well at the start it was mainly about her body. But after that one party conversations flowed through you both. They came naturally. The connection instantly there as you spoke about everything and nothing at the same time. 

You both bonded over your traumatic childhoods at 3am when you were both plagued by nightmares. Which you always found amusing at how you both found each other even when you both lived at 2 different ends of the Avengers compound. 

You were a SHIELD agent and one of the best so to say. You weren't originally based there, you had only recently been moved a few weeks before the party.  

But it was like as soon as you both laid eyes on eachother you were both hooked. Like it was a secret connection that no one could know about. Her boyfriend was on the team. It would cause problems at work and it wasn't worth it. But she WAS worth it. 

The times she held you in her arms when you couldn't shake off a bad flashback after a nightmare. Her hand carding through your hair, her body pressed tightly against hers. You would be dead if her boyfriend had seen. 

You were friends. Good friends. But nobody knew. Nobody could ever know. She was technically your superior. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! 

Tony practically hosted parties every month. 

The same thing happening over and over. You would feel her eyes on your back and when you turned you were always met with her low smirk and longing eyes. But again he was always next to her. 

It happened for months, secret meet ups whenever one of you had a nightmare, your phone flashing up filling your dark room. A text from her. Always a simple text. ‘The garden.’ You would be out of bed in seconds. You had even gone as far to change the ringtone of her text, even when sleep filled you the sound of your phone recognising her text tone brought you straight out of sleep. 

It was difficult. Being friends with her was difficult, even though it felt like the easiest thing in the world. You started to think about her more often. She would plague your thoughts, the need to be next to her filled your bones. All you could think about was her, every second of every day she was in your head. There was no doubt that by this point you had fallen in love with her. She wasn't just beautiful or sexy. She was caring, strong minded, and intelligent. She was no longer just a body you could admire from far away. She was now a real human who your heart couldn't not fall for. It was stupid. 

God of course it was stupid. The whole time, from the moment you met her, she belonged to someone else. Her body laid with another. But your brain couldn't stop telling you maybe she liked you too. Why else would she seek comfort in another when she has someone already?

You always wanted to ask, but part of you also never wanted to know the truth. So you never asked. 

You thought a secret was better than nothing. So if that was the only way you could have her then that is how you would take it. 

But that all seemed to change when Tony hosted another party 8 months after you had first laid eyes on her. 

Your body shook in the elevator as you made your way to the party floor. The frill of finally seeing her again consumed you. You hadn't seen her for a week, she had been away on a mission and when she had come back you had them left for one too. You had only gotten home that morning. You couldn't wait to see her across the room, couldn't wait to see her smirk fill her face as your own eyes took her whole self in. 

You heard her before you saw her. Her infectious laugh had your head instantly turning to the bar where she stood with no other than Clint Barton. You knew he was her best friend. Maybe now after 8 months you could finally approach her in public but your whole body froze when you saw Bucky Barnes, her boyfriend, walk up behind her and throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. You turned in the other direction after that. But if you hadn’t maybe you would have seen the way she pushed him off of her and punched his shoulder calling him an idiot. 

You once again stood far away from her, but never once letting her out of your sight. You wondered if she could feel your eyes on her. And your question was answered when she turned away from the bar and her eyes instantly met yours. You had to hold the blush that threatened to creep up your throat over her finding you. But that wasn't what shocked you. What shocked you was her turning back to the bar and grabbing another beer, her feet moving her in your direction and before you knew it she stood in front of you. 

It was like you could feel everyone's eyes on you. People were definitely wondering why Natasha was approaching you of all people. Especially Bucky Barnes. 

“I missed you this week.” Natasha sheepishly muttered as she handed you the beer from her hand. Your blush came at full force then. “I missed you too.” You couldn't help but take a nervous sip of your drink as she chuckled at you. 

“Stop thinking about everyone staring at us.” Nat said louder this time, her eyes staring intensely into yours. “Well it is very hard to not think about it when your boyfriend looks like he wants to come over here and rip my head off.” You chuckle back at her taking another sip on your drink, but quickly shut yourself up when you notice her confused expression on her face. “And who is my boyfriend?” You choked on the drink in your mouth. Was she being serious? “Er? Bucky?” You reply, nerves filing your body once again. She laughed loudly at your reply, jokingly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. You had never felt so confused. “Bucky? My boyfriend. No, definitely not.” Okay, definitely confused.

“Wait, what? He isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Have I ever said he was?”

“Well no, I just, whenever we are at parties he always has his arm around you and whispers things in your ear…I just assumed…”

“Ohh you assumed? Well you’re very wrong.” Her smirk back on her face as she now takes a sip from her drink. Her eyes flutter over your face, then they lower, following your whole body as she takes in your suit. “You look really, really nice tonight.” Natasha’s voice turns husky as she takes a step closer towards you. Your body is heating up over just her voice, your head feeling dizzy at how perfect this woman is. You manage to swallow the breath you were holding and find the courage to reply, “And you Tasha, are looking as beautiful as ever.” Her cheeks flood red, she lowers her head in embarrassment, you already knew how much she hated being complimented. 

You feel your arm move before your brain can actually catch up, your arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. Part of you expected her to back away. But instead she willingly moves closer herself, her right hand coming up and laying on your chest. 

You can feel everyone's eyes on you even more than you did a moment ago. The movement is so intimate and vulnerable. And she, the big bad Black Widow, was letting it happen. You feel as she takes a breath, her head finally lifting. Her eyes meet yours. And it feels as though everyone who was staring is no longer in the room. It is just you and her. 

“I don't know if it is just liquid courage, and I promise I’m definitely not drunk but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while…” Natasha breaths out, nerves filling her body, an action you feel is so rare from the woman in front of you. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I…I have liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you 8 months ago in this very room. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you…I just, I didn't want to lose whatever we had but I spoke to Clint and…”

“You spoke to Clint about me?” A teasing grin falls on your face, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy over her admission. “Is that all you have to say about what I just told you? Come on Y/n…I like you, and I like you a lot, like you consume…” Your hand touches her cheek first, your fingers play with some hair that has fallen onto her face. “Can you stop talking for 2 seconds and let me kiss you Tasha.” 

“Yes, yeah. I would very much like…” Your lips touch hers before she can finish her sentence. Your hand on her cheek holds her securely on your lips. Both of you move together, you move as one. Her hand curls around the edge of your suit jacket, pulling you impossibly closer to her. She can most likely feel your heart beating out of your chest as her tongue swipes against your lower lip begging for entrance and you want to allow it but the people in the room come back to your mind as well as your trousers tightening around you. You smile against her lips, her own curling up after yours as you both pull away from one another.

“I wish we could leave right now but people would definitely talk more about us than they are already going too.” She whispers between you both, her lips red and slightly swollen. 

“Yeah well they better not look down then.” You awkwardly murmur to her. Her eyes fly down and then back up again as your cheeks burn red again. “I don’t think I can stay here knowing you have a problem that I am very capable of sorting out.” Natasha huskily replies, her eyes darkening, she looks up at you through her eyelashes and you swear you feel yourself get even harder. You groan in annoyance. Your head leaning down to press into her forehead. “You're killing me right now red…” Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Her head then moves so she can whisper in your ear, “Please, lets just leave…” She practically begs. You nod your head, your body winning over. She turns in your arms. Her ass pressing into you and you have to swallow the moan that comes over you. Your beers are long forgotten on the table you were standing next to. Your heavy arms are now around her waist and you bring her even closer to you. You both walk through the room attached to one another. People stare and all Natasha can do is chuckle at their faces. 

As soon as the elevator doors close, she turns in your arms. Her body once again leaning against yours as she chases your lips. A whimper leaves her mouth as you grip her ass and press her into you, your lips finally meeting hers. Her hand moves down to grip you through your trousers, a moan leaving your mouth at the sudden action. You manage to move your leg between her legs, her body shuddering as you take a hold of her hips. You grind her hips hard into you, her body shaking as she feels your muscles through your trousers. Your own body shudders when you feel how wet she is. 

“Fuckk, baby…” she moans as you start to move her faster against you, her body tensing up, your instinct telling you she is already close to cumming has you moving one of your hand to your trousers and opening them, your trousers becoming painfully tight over the sinful sounds falling from her. Natasha moves her lips down your neck, she bites and sucks all over your neck until you are moaning loudly, her face pulling into a smirk when she realises she has found one of your spots. She chuckles lowly against you but gets cut off as you pull her down even harder onto your leg, her hips moving faster as she suddenly cums. Her body tenses and her head falls against your shoulder. Her breathing fast, while she slows her grinding and then comes to a stop. 

Her hand instantly moves to your boxers but before she can touch you the doors to the elevator open and she is pulling you along to her bed room. 

You're not given the chance to even acknowledge her room as she pushes you up against the wall and her lips are instantly latched back onto yours. Her hand now successfully wraps around your hardened length as she jerks you teasingly. Your hands come up to her back, fingers finding the zip of her dress and pulling it down. She removes herself from you and steps out of her dress, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you take note of her bare body. It somehow makes you feel hotter knowing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. You kick off your own shoes, pull down your own trousers and boxers, kicking them off somewhere in the room as Natasha starts to undo your shirt buttons. But they seem to annoy her as she chooses to rip your shirt instead. 

The showing of her strength has your breathing deepen. She looks up at you innocently, moving to leave a kiss on your lips, you go to chase them but stop when you notice her lowering herself onto the floor. Your eyes follow hers and take note on how she keeps eye contact while she teasingly licks the tip of your dick, your hips buck, impatience filling you, she notices the change in your face, desperation overtaking you and she finally wraps her lips around you. She takes you slowly, her head bobbing up and down until her nose finally touches your stomach. You try to stop yourself from thrusting but the sound of her gagging has you gripping the back on her head and start to fuck her mouth. 

You groan at the muffled sounds coming from her, your abs tightening as you pull her on and off of yourself. “Gon cum if you keep doing that baby girl.” Natasha’s eyes go hazy at your words, her body falling into submission as you bring her back to your tip. “You wanna make me cum?” Your cocky tone turns her on as she nods her head with you in her mouth, she brings one of her hands up to grip onto the base of your cock. Her hand and head falling into a rhythm. “Sh-shittt, gonna, I’m gonna cum.” You husk out, you half expect her to pull away but are met with her eyes connecting to yours once again and her head moving faster, you instantly understand, your hand pulling her hair into a ponytail, and fucking her mouth again, both of your groans fill the room and your body flinches as you finally release your cum into her mouth. She keeps sucking you dry as your body slumps against the door. She eases off of you slowly, getting back up to her feet. Her face comes into view and you feel yourself start to get hard again over the dopey expression on her face and the cum that is glistening on her lips. 

You don't stop yourself when you lean to kiss her, pulling her body closer to you once again. You never want to experience her body never being this close to you ever again. Her stomach presses against your already hard again dick and you pull her over to the bed. You sit comfortably against the headboard while she climbs onto your lap, leaving hot wet kisses over your neck as she grinds her hips over your dick. 

Your hands fall to her hips to lift her up, her hand flies down and moves your head to her opening. You slowly lower her, letting her get used to your size before you even attempt to move. "Fuckkk, baby you're so big." She breathes into your mouth as she starts to move her hips up and down at a slow pace. 

Your brain instantly falls into how you want the rest of this night to go. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah.." You reply as you slowly flip her over, with yourself still inside of her. "Fuck detka..." Natasha pants as you grind into her steadily. The russian falling from her lips turning you on even more. Her face contorts as you hit the perfect spot inside of her, her legs coming to move around your waist holding you tight, her hands falling tightly onto your back as she digs her nails into you.

"Fucking me so good..." Natasha breathlessly moans into the room, her body moving to meet your thrusts halfway. She grinds her hips into yours, her hands stretching down your back, mostly likely leaving blood in their movements, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as you pull out to the tip and slam back into her. 

You pull her hands from your back, not letting up your thrusting as you lay her hands above her head, your hands grip onto hers as you thrust even harder into her, you watch as your hands drain with colour with how tight she is holding you, “Wanna hear you scream for me, baby girl. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You pant out into her ear, her head nods as she moans sinfully. You repeat your action from earlier, you pull out so only the tip is still in her and roughly fill her up again, her moans getting even louder. You don't stop that action, loving the way her eyes close and pornagraphic moans leave her as you fill her up. You fill her up fast, your head moaning down to rest on her shoulder as you groan against her hot skin. Her head flies back at your rough thrusting. 

The whole room feels hot, her skin against yours feels hot. Your deep panting mixing with her moans.

You feel yourself coming closer to the edge, but you want her to cum with you. Your hands release hers and one moves to support yourself on the headboard, her hands moving back to grip your back, your other hand snakes between your bodies reaching her clit. "FUCK, Y/N! Don't stop, don't stop!" Natasha finally screams so loud you fear people at the party will hear her but you don't stop, your dick continues to move inside of her at a fast pace, your thumb speeding up the circles on her clit.

"Want you to cum inside, together." She says before she moves her lips between your neck and collarbone, her teeth biting into the area, she instantly tightens around you, her walls squeezing you to the point you have to change to deeper short thrusts. Your body is on hyperdrive at the thought of painting her walls with your cum. “You feel so fucking good, shittt. I’m gonna cum” Natasha moans.

"Okay baby, okay....cum- cum for me" You stutter out as you feel her gush around you, her cum hitting your stomach as you pull back more, your body tensing as you release inside of her, her body shaking as feels you cum inside. Your thumb slows down along with your hips, silently not wanting this to end. You look down not wanting to miss the way both of your cums mix together and squirt out between your thrusts.

Your moments eventually stop, her hands coming up to play with your hair, your body collapsing onto hers. Your body keeps shuddering as you feel her clench and unclench around you. Your dick already starting to get hard again. She brings your face out of her neck and kisses you slowly. It soon moves to passion as your hips slowly start to move inside of her again. Already wanting to take her all over again. She is like a drug, and you already know you're addicted.

“Fuckk baby, you're perfect, you're mine okay? You're mine…” You moan possessively against her lips, her own lips pulling into a smirk as she whispers back into your lips, “I was yours from the moment we laid eyes on each other.”

[sarawritestories]

Azriel X Fem Human Reader

Summary: Azriel finds your journal and reads your depictions of the life the two of you have spent so far...

Content Warning: Memory loss, Death of a character, grief, someone on their death bed. Mention of Poison

Word Count: 2.9K

Dedicated: to @daycourtofficial who broke my heart with her Az fic this week

Tags: @milswrites @berryzxx @lady-of-tearshed @simple-fan2 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @riddlesb1tch

ACOTAR Masterlist

There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.

After the war when borders had blurred, a young human woman traveled to Prythian the land of the fae. Not aware that some still held hatred in their heart for her kind. The woman cornered by fae males twice her size, looking at her as if she were their next meal. Slamming her eyes shut the woman began to tremble and wishing she would have stayed in her safe little hut.

Yet no one had laid a hand on her. Not a hair out of place. She only opened her eyes when the shrieks and snarls of males overwhelmed her ears. Flashes of cobalt lit the alley. The males scurrying with their tails between their legs, no longer fierce predators, but the fearful prey.

Swirls of shadows slithered around the woman’s body, their touch soft kisses against her skin. They wrapped around her neck and back down before slithering away, one lone tendril remaining and resting against the woman’s wrist. Despite her life being threatened moments before she laughed. This sentient magical being was not scary, but playful and cute.

Then she heard the clearing of a throat and her head slid up, no longer paying attention to the shadow, but the person who wielded them. Whispers of the male and his friends were the talk of the village.

“Shadowsinger.” The male blinked in surprised at her knowledge of who he was.

The male spoke, and the woman, never heard a more lovely sound. “Most people call me Azriel.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Are you alright?”

The woman slid her hand into his and a spark erupted from his touch and the woman panicked as a gold thread wrapped tightly around her heart, she couldn’t see it. She felt it. Something in her mind told her that the other end led to the person in front of her. “You’re my mate.” He whispered. The woman didn’t know what he meant by that. She didn’t have to know. Two things she knew was true:

This Male’s name was Azriel, and this male named Azriel made her feel safe.

A few years went by and the woman absolutely adored her mate.

She had a mate! Someone who was her equal in every way. Someone who promised the day she accepted the bond to love and cherish her until the day air left his lungs for good. Only to promise that in case, he would simply find her in the next life.

The young woman now had a family to call her own and a loving partner to walk through life with. New adventures awaited them.

But she will always be grateful for making the trip to Prythian, the beginning of her Happily Ever After.

The end

Azriel closed the journal, his gaze eyes meeting your cloudy ones. “That was a lovely story, young man.”  He smiled and gripped your now elderly hand. In the Spymaster’s eyes, you had only grown more beautiful with age. Your smile lines grew deeper from the years of laughing with Cassian. Forehead creases from playing too many games with Rhysand focusing on your shields so he couldn’t cheat. Every wrinkle, every crease, every spot told a story. Your story. As your body grew more wrinkles and your hair began to gray, the shadowsinger somehow fell deeper in love with you, your beauty knew no bounds and he thanked the mother that she chose you as his mate.

“You wrote it, my love.”  Azriel gave you a rare smile and you returned it with one of your own. “It’s about how we met. About our bond. You wrote it to tell Nyx someday, to tell our children someday.” Children the two of you were never destined to have, your body too fragile to carry an Illyrian babe to term. You were devastated when Madja revealed that to you. You thought you were broken; Az recalled the numerous times you apologized to him simply for the human body you possessed. Your apologies met with arms around you and Azriel rocking you murmuring how you had nothing to apologize for.

You looked upon the fae male whom in the last 50 years had not aged. His hazel eyes felt familiar to you though you couldn’t place how. One thing you knew for certain was that this male was in love. “You have a woman in your life.” There was a flicker of sadness in the male’s eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. “An old woman can tell these things.”

The male gave you a smile, you felt inclined to reach for his hand, he immediately grips your hand in his own, the raised skin of his scars colliding with the frail now thin skin of your own. “I do. Would you like to hear about her?”

“Please.” The handsome male squeezed your hand. “She must be special, your eyes light up, just asking to talk about her.”

“She’s wonderful.” The male’s timbre shook slightly, you patted his hand encouraging him to continue. “When she reads, she always crinkles her nose, and her face always flushes when she reaches a smutty scene.” You chuckled, “When I return home from a mission, without fail she is the first one to greet me. Leaping into my arms, her scent consuming me entirely.” His thumb idly stroked the top of yours. “My favorite thing about her, is late at night before she goes to bed, she would sit at her desk and write in her journal.”

You blinked and you smiled at the sight of your best friend, your husband, your mate. “You always scolded me to come to bed.” Azriel let a sob lose as he pressed his forehead to yours. “No fair.” He sniffled as his shadows came to greet you, as if you had been gone for ages, “You haven’t aged in 50 years.”

Azriel pressed his lips to yours, “You have only gotten more beautiful with time, my love.”  He pulled away and you were able to see every emotion in his hazel eyes. Most people had a hard time figuring out what Azriel was feeling. You always knew he held every emotion in his beautiful eyes.

You lifted a hand to his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, you swiped away his tears, “We agreed,” You whispered, “No tears. No goodbyes.”

Azriel whimpered and it was the first time you ever saw the spy master look defeated, broken, lost. “We were younger when we agreed to that. You can’t ask this of me.” His palm pressed over yours. “Not when we have such little time.”

“Az, look at me, baby.” His watery gaze met yours, “We were running on borrowed time. I’ve made peace with that years ago.” Another broken sob escaped him, and you began to feel your own tears coming to the surface. “I don’t want this to be how I remember you. This isn’t how I want us to part.”

“This life isn’t worth living, if you’re not here.” His shadows kissed your cheeks, drying your tears. “I can’t live without you, Angel.”

You pressed your forehead to his once more, your arms barely able to lift you up anymore. “You can, and you will. Nyx needs to see how you are not just serious. That you’re funny, and kind, he needs to know that Auntie loved him so much and will watch over him. Just like I will with you.” Your vision blurred as the tears trickled down your aged cheeks. “Maybe we’ll be lucky, and the Cauldron will turn me into one of your shadows.” A strangled sound came out of Azriel. “I love you, Azriel and I will love you in every lifetime.”

Azriel brought your lips to his once more. “I Love you too. Wait for me in the next life.”

“Hold me. One last time.”  You moved to make room for your mate. He slid his boots off and tucked his wings tightly to make room on the cramped bed. He scooped you in his arms, his shadows resting comfortably around your waist. Your whole world holding you close to his chest. “Az?”

“Angel?”

“Will you sing me to sleep?” You whispered, your eyes growing heavy, your body feeling so weak.

Azriel’s wing came over as if knowing you had caught a sudden chill. “For you, my love. Of course.” Azriel’s melodic voice singing words of love and devotion. Before unconscious held a grip on you, you felt his lips on the top of your head, “Until we meet again, My Angel.”

Azriel awoke at the sound of feet pattering on the hard wood floor down the hall. He looked over at you, your skin paled, lips a slight shade of blue, Azriel couldn’t hear your heartbeat and the bond had faded to a dim light sending his love down only to feel hollowness at the other end.  Tears slid down his cheeks as his shadows confirmed what he already knew:

Gone

Gone

She has left.

A little dark head of hair wandered in and Azriel jolted as the heir of the Night Court climbed on the bed. “Auntie!” His little jovial voice echoing through the room. Azriel moved and covered his mouth as he shut his eyes fighting the sob. “Auntie, it’s time to wake up.” The Shadowsinger opened his eyes to find Nyx brows furrowed. “Auntie?” He shakes your lifeless form before he places his head against your chest, as Rhys and Feyre reached the room. Nyx lifted his head, his lip wobbled, as he met Azriel’s eyes.  “Uncle Azzy, why can’t I hear Auntie’s heartbeat anymore?”

Feyre’s cries broke the silence as she also realized how still you had become. Rhys looked at his brother as he held Feyre close. Azriel didn’t miss that he held her closer than normal, not that he faulted his brother.  Rhys’ throat bobbed as though he was trying to contain his emotions, for his mate, and his son. “How long?” The High Lord’s voice cracked.

“We fell asleep. Her memory came back last night.” Azriel picked up Nyx.  “I woke up, she was gone.”

“She’s right there.” Nyx argued. “Auntie, didn’t leave.”

Feyre sniffled as Azriel pressed his cheek to his nephew’s head, “Her soul is gone, Little one. Her body was not meant to live as long as us. She aged and yesterday her soul left this plane of existence.”

Nyx’s eyes, so much like his father’s, lined with silver. “Will she be lonely? I don’t want her to be lonely.”

Azriel held the boy close not noticing Cassian rushing in, pain lacing the General’s face as he walked over to your body. Grabbing your limp hand Azriel whispered, “No she’s not alone, sweet prince. She’ll be busy.” Cassian kissed the top of your hand and Azriel tried to keep his composure.

“With what?”

Feyre answered, “Watching over us. She’ll want to see her favorite nephew grow up.” She walked over, opening her arms so that Azriel would hand Nyx. “Uncle Az needs a minute let’s go down and grab you something to eat.”

The small child simply nodded as he cried into his mother’s sweater. Rhys and Cassian lingered, “I’m sorry, Azriel.” Cassian was the first to speak. “She was a wonderful person.”

“A better friend,” Rhys interjected.

Azriel climbed back into the bed and pressed your lifeless corpse to his chest, allowing the tears to fall. “My perfect mate.” A shadow slithered from your ankle and swirled wildly until spotting its master. The lone shadow lingered by his ear whispering.

I’m Here

I’m With You.

Forever.

🌟🌟🌟

A century had passed without you though Azriel never felt alone. Not when one shadow would remind him you were near. Especially as he lay in the same bed you once did after a mission had gone terribly wrong leaving the spymaster fatally wounded. Sweat coated his brow as Nyx now a grown fae male held his hand, “Uncle Az, I’m sorry I should have listened.”

“Your stubborn, like your father, I’m used to it.” Azriel coughed and blood sputtered from his mouth just as said brother walked in, Cassian in tow.

Nyx rose, “Father, I.”

Fury laced Rhysand’s eyes, “Go see your mother, Uncle Cass and I will be having an at length discussion with you about following orders.” Guilt laced the young males’ features but to Azriel’s surprise, the prince puffed his chest out and walked out of the room, not sparing his brothers a second glance. Azriel smirked.

You would have been so proud of the male he has grown to be.

“He’s grown up so much, hasn’t he?” Your voice carried and Azriel’s head snapped toward the door. His shadows scurried away and began swirling around your body. Not the older woman you were when you left this world, no you were the young woman who braved the fae lands alone. The fierce youthful woman, Azriel had fallen in love with, the only difference was your skin had an ethereal glow and your dress of tool, sleeves draping off your shoulders and down your feet.

“Angel,” Azriel whispered smiling, as Rhysand and Cassian sat at either side of him.

“Madja, said that the wound was laced with poison, she said he might hallucinate.” Rhys spoke holding onto his brother’s hand as if the grip alone could keep him from disappearing.

“We have spent over 600 years together,” Cassian’s tears falling. Azriel’s eyes remained on you as you walked deeper into the room. “I was supposed to go first.” Cassian’s sobs were thunderous but were muffled to Az as he watched you place a hand on Rhys. The High Lord briefly looked over his shoulder as if he felt your touch.

“You noticed my shadow huh?” You giggled as your eyes met Azriel’s hazel ones “I promised you I would be with you. I kept it.” Azriel wanted to speak but you held up your hand, “Baby, save your words.” You looked over at your friends. “They need them more than me right now.”  You moved and Azriel thought you glided from one spot to the other where you pressed a kiss to Cassian’s cheek. A gesture the general always returned. Cassian’s hand slid there tentatively as if remembering your sweet gesture from years ago.

“Cass,” Azriel’s lips chapped throat tight, “You are my dearest friend. Thank you, for being kind to me and showing me what a brother really looks like,” Cassian’s voice broke as he kissed Azriel’s knuckles.

“Fuck you, you prick. You can’t leave. Please don’t leave.” He choked out, Azriel’s gaze turned to Rhysand.

“Rhys.” Azriel wheezed, “It was an honor to serve as…your spymaster…” Rhysand silently cried as he rested his forehead against the shadowsinger’s knuckles. His shadows are still swirling and kissing you. Azriel continued, “Being your brother, and Nyx’s uncle…has…been my greatest…honor…go…easy… on him…” Rhys nodded not being able to form words.

You approached your mate, “My love.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. “I have been granted the greatest gift.” You pressed your lips to his head, “I get to bring you home with me. We can be together again.”

Azriel hummed as another fit of cough erupted from his mouth jolting his two brothers’ alert. “Az, stay with us.” Rhysand’s voice grew panicked. “Azriel, please we still need you. Nyx needs you.”

Azriel’s eyes creaked open, and Cassian noticed life fading from them. “I love you both. Take care of each other.”

“Az-

Azriel cut the general off, “She…” both Cassian and Rhysand stilled, “is calling…me home…”

Rhysand and Cassian then looked to where his shadows were swirling, as if they could see you there. Cassian squeezed his hand fighting the tears. “Tell that little spitfire, hello for me.”

Azriel’s eyes began to droop. “I understand,” His violet eyes looked to where yours would be though he couldn’t see you, “I know you’ll take good care of him, like you did when you were here.”

You leaned down your breath lingering over Azriel’s lips, “It’s time to come back to me.” You kissed his lips and as you did, Azriel’s grip loosened from his brothers’. The roar of Cassian deafening. You pulled away from Azriel’s lifeless body only for hands to grip your waist hoisting you up, there was a glow to the now tanned arms, though his hands, no longer scarred, they were how he had always wished them to be, unharmed, undamaged. His nose grazed your skin, “I missed you too, Azriel.” He hummed.

“My Little Angel.” He pressed his lips to your cheek, “Take me home.”

You led him away, your hand adjusting to the now smooth skin of his own. He looked down at his hands and grinned, and your heart soared “No phantom pains, no ugliness.”

“They were never ugly, Azriel.” You scowled and kissed his knuckles. “Come now we must go.” You led Azriel away from his lifeless body, only to pause and turned to his shadows that were following the two of you, “Take care of them. You hear me.” The shadows nodded and swirled around Rhys and Cassian as if wrapping them in a snug blanket.

As they walked down the hall, glancing at Feyre holding a sobbing Nyx tear of her own, Azriel’s voice broke your concentration. “Tell me the story.” He didn’t need to elaborate.

You paused causing him to stop too, you pressed your lips to his, and he cupped your cheek. You put a hand to his chest and lightly pushed, “There once was a human girl, who fell in love with a fae male.” Azriel smiled as you led him to the afterlife.

His Perfect Little Angel.

~Fin

[vilsoo]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐅 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐔𝐒! ⌇MICHAEL AFTON

succubus!reader x michael afton || WC: 5,413

𖤐 SYNOPSIS. ever since michael found you as a succubus, he’s never been so in love. you usually feed off humans, but with michael’s sexual energy keeping you alive, you never ate anyone in years. that is, until, halloween night occurs…

𖤐 WARNINGS. established relationship, university au, halloween setting, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, revenge, murder, flesh eating, gore, blood mentions, tentacle bondage, msub!michael.

HORRORLAND/KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] This is a high speed roller coaster with sudden stops and drops! All riders must store loose items inside of a locker. This ride contains flashing scenes, special effects, and content warnings posted. Please remember to stay seated and keep all arms and legs inside when the vehicle is in motion. Any kind of photography is not allowed during the ride. Thanks for your attention and cooperation. We hope you enjoy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Is it possible to fall in love with a woman after they had just murdered someone?

For Michael Afton, the answer is yes.

Months ago during the beginning of the semester, Michael wasn’t always great at making friends. Even though this was university, it felt like high school again, where he remained an outcast and was reluctant to be involved with the student body, college clubs, or majority of big events like football games. He was academically focused; the typical nerdy student majoring in engineering. Always studying by himself in the library and sometimes tutoring other students so he could earn some money on the side. Back then he realized that having friends or even being in a relationship was the least of his priorities.

But it wasn’t until he first laid his eyes on you.

You were so beautiful. Also an inquisitive, scholarly student with good grades, staying on top of your classes, and involved with many extra curriculars. As badly as he wanted to talk to you, he viewed you as way out of his league. Always keeping in touch with your friend groups on campus and focusing on the clubs and committees you joined. There was never a chance for Michael to even be with you. So to avoid rejection and humiliation, he’d rather keep his crush a little secret, admiring and fantasizing about you from afar.

When October came around and a big Halloween party was taking place, Michael was invited by one of the students he was tutoring. He wasn’t the best at social gatherings and has never been to college parties, but the only reason he came was because you were attending as well. And that the first time he ever drank and slightly withdrew from his comfort zone from the alcohol, talking to people from campus and collecting all the courage to talk to you.

That night, however, you were busy with another man. A man that Michael has never seen before. Spending a lot of time together, dancing, drinking, and always leaving the vicinity together… As much as Michael wanted to admit that he was jealous deep down, he forced himself to move on. He’d always believed that there was no way in Hell that he was going to have a chance with you that time.

“…Hey, has anybody seen Y/N?”

A few hours later into the party the question started floating in the air, suddenly capturing Michael’s attention. The thought of you had completely slipped his mind as he started drinking more throughout the night until you were back to being his main focus. Recalling the last time he’s seen you was with that man he assumed doesn’t attend the university. As he lingered in his thoughts, his skin started crawl.

Suspicion. Piercing curiosity. An urge to look for you and make sure you were safe.

A handful of your friends were looking everywhere in the house for you as Michael decided to investigate outside. Even though he was outside of campus and wasn’t that familiar with the outskirts, he didn’t stop searching until he could find you that night. He searched until the path at his feet faded and lead into the dark woods, the verdant greens diminishing to sullen brown, as if he was entering forbidden territory. But it wasn’t until he noticed red.

A blood trail.

That mystifying Halloween night, right in the heart of the forest where danger and terror lurks, is the first time Michael saw a dead man’s body and his guts hideously torn apart, messy spikes of fresh blood splattered everywhere. The whole scene looked impossible for a rabid animal to even do that. But it wasn’t until he found you, on your knees and sitting on your ankles beside the corpse, blood draped all over your face, chin, and then your naked body.

And when your gaze flickered onto Michael, in your eyes he can sense longing, pining, regret, terror… a tumultuous storm surging in your mind, piercing right through him. He could’ve ran. He could’ve screamed that night. He should’ve been horrified by the scene in the first place. But every fiber of his fell frozen like he was in a surrendering state; placating, patient, consoling. Only for you. A rapport had already formed right there and then, right under the luminous moon…

“Help me, Michael…”

And just as you were about to collapse on the ground, he rushed over to hold your body in his arms, not caring about the dead man or the blood all over his hands and clothes. He only cared about you. A wave of relief may have washed over him, but he was taken over by this strange, formidable urgency to protect you. To be there for you. To cherish you with such powerful tenderness, nurturing you in such a delicate, vulnerable state.

That was the night you and Michael finally bonded. That special Halloween night you found each other. Comprehending the fact that you were a newborn succubus— the deadliest, macabre, and wanton creature to ever exist... Knowing that you eat men, feed off their flesh, and reap on them with sexual dreams and nightmares, suddenly lead him to a mind-blowing discovery…

Michael had fallen in love with you.

In just a year later, you two were official. A perfect boyfriend and girlfriend for each other, basking in a healthy, loving, long-term relationship. With Michael knowing what you’re capable of as a succubus, he never held it against you; especially finding out the dark and twisted origin of how you became a succubus… He still loves you, cherishes you, and will forever stay loyal to you. Dating you because you’re you was just what he wanted ever since the beginning of college. And even though there were various things he has to adapt to in this relationship, he never complained. He would sacrifice anything for you, including his time to skip class just so you two can have sex.

But for a very good reason.

During the first few months of his new relationship, he had to deal with your bloodlust. You would tend to be ravenous, feral, murderous, literally barbaric for man blood and flesh, for that was your only appetite as a newborn. Michael knew what he was getting into, knew that him ending up being killed and eaten by you one day would be inevitable just to keep yourself alive and beautiful. As cautious and wary as ever, he’d keep his distance as he was in desperate search for another way to satisfy your hunger besides murdering anyone. Then finally, he came to the conclusion that a succubus like his girlfriend can also thrive and feed off sexual energy. A perfect solution for your diet without anybody getting hurt and keeping you alive.

Having sex with you everyday and night didn’t even feel like a strict routine or sex ritual. Michael had you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even dessert. Nothing about this felt like a necessity just to keep you around forever; he really wanted to satisfy you deep down as long as you consented. And as the months passed by, perhaps deep down he was also a freaky sex demon that takes pleasure in pleasuring his beautiful girlfriend. A man possessed and bewitched by your ethereal presence, he’d make you feel various levels of pleasure and pain as he explores the regions of your body that you never knew existed— finding your weaknesses, turning them into his strengths, and then seducing you with them...

As goes for you, who trained yourself to only feed off the insatiable, wanton lust you have for Michael. You always find a human man like him weaving into your brain, coursing through your veins like you were downing a drug. Every second you see each other at school, your hearts pound as hard as the bed you shared in your new apartment rattles, feasting upon your lusts as if there were no more morrows. Michael had undying, blooming love for you— and you wallowed in his love like draping a warm blanket over you during cold Winter nights.

Halloween was right around the corner again. It was soon to be your one year anniversary, and though Michael had many, many plans on celebrating with you, one of them was going to this huge Halloween party just thirty minutes away from campus. But it wasn’t just some ordinary house party with spooky Halloween decor lazily thrown around and bowls of fruit punch and alcohol scattered on a kitchen island— this was a hardcore Halloween party with over 300 guests attending. Way more people, way more alcohol, and way more attractions than just music to dance to— there were rumors of a famous live band performing, people hosting escape rooms, haunted houses, and other cool horror-related shit that Michael couldn’t wait to experience with you.

It was an hour before the party. The two of you were at your apartment getting your costumes ready, since Halloween costumes were part of the dress code for this party. If you weren’t dressed, you weren’t allowed in.

“Are you… Jason Voorhees?” you marveled, passing by Michael standing in front of the body mirror putting on the iconic hockey mask.

Michael chuckled. “Yeah. Since we had a Friday the 13th this year... I just found this at Spirit Halloween and decided why not. What are you gonna be, hm?”

“Well, it’s a little basic…” You did some cute poses in front of the mirror in your costume; a cropped white puffer jacket with faux fur on the edges of your hood, a denim skirt, red laced stockings, and then fake blood splattered all over. “It was also last minute, so I just threw on some stuff to look like Jennifer Check from Jennifer’s Body.”

“Basic? You look beautiful,” he complimented as he stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning around to hold your waist. “The costume is also ironic. I love that. You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s go before parking gets full.”

The thirty minute drive at night wasn’t that bad. You and Michael’s adrenaline started to rush in when luminous rays of colorful lights and fog were seen from a far distance behind the shadowy trees. There were so, so many people that Michael couldn’t even recognize. Some weren’t even students that attended the university. You were surfing through the crowd with him never letting go of your hand, everybody around dancing outdoors as the excitement buzzes around in this rave-like party. Spectrums within the bass-boosted music, the sound waves pulsing in your heart. In the air, you could immediately take in strong various drugs and alcohol invading your senses. You could hear the rustle of costumes, glasses clinking, people talking and laughing, and feel the whimsical energy flowing around.

You and Michael decided to drink and dance together, the dizzying lights and alcohol making you fall through space and only take in his face. As the ecstasy flowed in your bloodstream beyond all measure like a storm of electric emotion, your pupils dilating as you were filled with this hazy sweetness-like sensation. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you always felt this way for your own boyfriend; becoming a victim to your own deadly, rapacious desire, enlaved to the rhythm of such unquenchable fire.

Together on the dance floor, Michael kept caressing your waist as you kept moving your body on his. He cupped your face, lips meeting together and something like fire and passion ignited within your ribs, urging each other to deepen the kiss. As if the alcohol couldn’t intoxicate you more, Michael was all that you needed in your hazy, drunken world. You needed him more than ever. You wanted to sneak off and find some place private for the both of you. God, you were feeling so needy for him deep down that Michael already knew…

"…Thank you for having us tonight. It's so good to be here with y'all!" somebody exulted into the microphone on the stage nearby. "I hope y'all enjoy and have a happy fuckin' Halloween!"

The elated crowd cheers again as the drummer counts off with the sticks and the electric guitar riffs take over your ears. For some odd reason, the man’s voice that started singing sounded vaguely familiar to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there’s a part of you that recognizes a voice like that…

With the heated moment between you and Michael now disrupted by the band performing, you both turn your heads towards the stage where the crowd started to increase. Still holding each other’s hands, your eyes weaved through the back of people’s heads and tried to see who was performing. The electronic punk riffs sounded incredibly vibrant, thrilling everybody in the rave. Dark red spotlights, increased fog from the machines, and the clashing of the drums and other electric instruments overpowering your ears… Even the music sounded familiar to you— this was a genre that you used to listen to, after all.

“Do you wanna stay and watch?” you hear Michael yell out, clutching your hand tighter.

Somehow the question flew over your head as if you were distracted and overstimulated at the same time. As if you were drawn into the hypnotizing performance, there was an odd feeling of curiosity weighing down on your shoulders. The set up, the music, the energy, the singer’s voice… was it deja vu? You were slightly emerged, as if you unadjusted from this atmosphere, and the more Michael studied your curiosity, the more he became concerned.

When the silhouettes of tall heads blocking your view parted for a few minutes, you could finally see the singer. And the moment you scrutinized his appearance, it felt as if the world around you slowed down.

His face heightened every nerve of your body, as if you were just electrocuted by the most hazardous downed powerline. You were in utter bewilderment and horror of everything that you took in, numerous daunting flashbacks running in your head. You held your breath as you relived a traumatic memory from last Halloween; the night you were reborn as a succubus… You had no idea if these were your memories— Hell, it felt like a past life regression coursing every fiber of your being. But for the first time in a long time, terror and fright seized you completely.

“That— that singer…” you drawled, eyes widening every second in horror.

Michael furrowed his brows from not being able to hear you, leaning his ear closer to you. “Wait, what?”

You remembered. You remembered everything.

That last night of your perfect life where everything felt so surreal— being noticed by your long admired idol. A diabolical, sinister plan disguised as an innocent groupie love, where you were betrayed, drugged, kidnapped, and murdered.

The fire. The alcohol. The party. The groupie sex.

His words. His threats. His intentions. His greedy thirst for fame.

The night where he cut out your heart and sacrificed you to the devil. The night when you woke up hours later with a repulsive thirst for flesh on your tongue. The night you were reborn as a succubus, killing the first innocent man you ever saw who was just camping alone in the woods…

It was him. It was really him.

With your eyes welling with tears, your mind started to scream at you. You wanted revenge. You wanted to fucking kill him. Your anger and surging vengeance ignited a dangerous flame taking over you like a goddamn baptism. Your mind turns darker than black as every painful memory rips through you. This was the night he will finally die— and you didn’t give a fucking damn about how many witnesses there will be for his death.

“Babe? Are you—“

Letting go of Michael’s hand before he could comprehend it, you were already out of the crowd and lurking in the shadows with your enhanced speed. Part of you wanted to make that man’s death public. But part of you wanted to take things the old fashioned way, luring him backstage and devouring his soul right back into Hell where he belonged.

But your insatiable lust for flesh and blood mixed with your rage had you impatient and ravenous. It’s been so, so long since you’ve ate a man. And for a valid reason, you were hysterical and feverish to finally eat one on Halloween again. Make that man die a slow, painful, agonizing death as you tie him up in the woods and tear apart each and every one of his organs and guts. You were back to your old roots of being a vicious, wild succubus who lacks control of your hunger.

Michael had to weave through the crowd desperately looking everywhere for you, sometimes pushing other people and mistaking some as you by accident because of your costume. When the song was finally over and he could see entire stage clearly, the band was making their way off and the crowd finally became loose again. He still couldn’t find you anywhere. He started panicking, making his way inside the estate to search.

Inside the estate, there was a private dressing room for the band where they kept their instruments and other possessions. You were there, waiting by the locked door, hearing the men laughing and conversing with each other. But the lead singer’s voice reverberating in the room sounded like nails to a chalkboard to you, your blood boiling every time he chuckles and gets all excited about bullshit. That man doesn’t get to laugh. He doesn’t deserve this kind of talent. You kept fantasizing about ripping out his voice box with your own bare hands, clawing at his throat like a goddamn vice.

Blending with the shadows to taunt them, you find your way inside and locked the door. The men were behind a huge curtain where they couldn’t see you, still laughing and drinking together. Such fickle souls, perfect to be tormented alone in a dismal night like this. As much as you wanted the lead singer gone, you couldn’t help but take predatory thrill in agonizing the rest of the men that was soon to face the worse demise. Maybe they weren’t all that innocent, either. They could add in to the main course for the night.

You decided to do this the old fashioned way, stripping off your puffer jacket, crop top, skirt, stockings, and shoes. You wanted to feel their splattering crimson blood all over your bare skin. Wearing nothing but a matching bra and panty set, you stayed behind the curtain and cleared your throat.

“Excuse me? Can you gentlemen help me with something, please?”

All of them suddenly stop talking at the sound of your coaxing, provocative, coy voice behind the curtain. You sauntered your way towards them, all of them holding their breaths in star struck silence, admiring your devilish beauty and stunning body. All doe-eyed, slothful, yearning, making eye contact with all five males. That glimmer in your eyes that makes a man lose his mind like your boyfriend…

“Woah. Didn’t know we got a groupie for tonight,” one of the men chuckled, their disgusting eyes that deserves to be gouged out staring at you from head to toe.

“How can we help you, miss?” said the lead singer, your nose involuntarily flaring in furtive anger at him.

“Well… if you wanna come behind the curtains here, I have something I’d like to show all of you. A gift from your biggest fan.”

The dumb men easily fell into your trap, following you behind the curtain only for them to realize you disappeared. Eyebrows furrowing, some baffled by where the hell you just went. But you were hanging right above on the high ceiling, like a predatory creature on all fours, using your succubus powers to fuck with the lights and make them flicker until they’re in the dark.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Why’s the door locked? I can’t fucking open it!”

“Goddamnit. We’re stuck in here! Where the hell is that bitch?”

It’s been so long since you’ve utilized your tentacles. With a disturbing screech and growl, your wings that you finally let free transfigured into slimy tentacles that snatched the men and threw them across the room one by one, leaving the lead singer alone on purpose. You grinned widely from hearing them scream, curse, and panic in a room where no one could find them nor hear them. Your tentacles shove right into their mouths, silencing them forever until you were ready to eat them for later. And when you left the singer in prolonged, tense silence, you can feel the rapid, erratic beating of his heart that was soon to be gone…

“I went through Hell and came back… to finally kill you.”

For the past ten minutes, you weren’t answering your phone. Michael searched most of the estate, underestimating how big and maze-like the structure of the place was that he literally got lost. But when he was passing by a group of girls coming from the restroom, he overheard a conversation that immediately caught his attention.

“…yeah, but I was a little shy to go inside the dressing room. Flirt With Death always has groupies in there fucking or something…”

It all finally registered in Michael’s brain. Why you suddenly ran away, why you’re nowhere to be found. He was disappointed in himself for not realizing earlier, not even recognizing the band playing that was right in front of his eyes. He decided to turn into another narrow hallway where there were few people, running through each room with panic as he was still looking for you. When he found a dressing room that was apparently locked, he looked for any objects or furniture nearby that could barge open the door.

Don’t fucking tell me you did it, Y/N…

He grabbed a heavy chair, smashing it several times on the door knob to break it. He knew that he was damaging property, but he did not give a shit. The party was loud enough to block the banging sounds. Nobody was around, there were not even any cameras that he could detect in the ceiling. But he kept jamming and jamming the knob until it finally broke off, hastily shoving the door open. And the moment he noticed the room was dark and quiet, he immediately knew.

“And If I ever find the people that did this to me, I want to kill them...” He recalled your words from a year ago when you told him the truth. “And you can’t stop me, Michael. They deserve to rot in Hell for this...”

You actually fucking did it.

When Michael switched on the lights, the entire dressing room was a wretched mess covered in blood. On the walls, on the floor, some splattered onto the ceiling… It was the scene of a fucking massacre. As if a giant bucket of blood spilled and flooded the entire place. He held his breath and his eyes widened in horror, scanning the corpses with all their guts and organs hideously torn apart and some spilling out, laying in a pool of fresh crimson blood.

His gaze slowly drifted to you in the middle of the room— your wings were spread, your eyes were a different color, and your half-naked body was completely draped in fresh blood. You were feeding on the man that you told him about, the man you’ve been wanting to kill for the longest; plunging to the depths of his rufescent flesh.

“…Babe?” Michael uttered, ever so slowly and cautiously ambling closer to you. You hissed at him and bared your fangs, immediately halting a few feet away from you in underlying fear.

You took a few moments to recognize Michael’s face, trying so hard to fight the urge of accidentally eating him as well. You were slowly coming down from your frenzied, blood lust state, your sharpened eyes scanning the bloody room. The band that became famous from the lead singer selling his soul is now dead. His diabolic soul finally rotting in Hell where he belongs…

Michael inched closer, watching the way your eyes turn back to its normal color and your wings closing. “Come. Let’s go home,” your loving boyfriend insisted, holding out his hand. “I’ll wash you up and then I’ll order us something to eat.”

Holding onto him and letting him cover you up with his jacket and his arm around you, it felt as if the raging and feral tides of your soul were finally at rest. His love for you was like floating in a warm pool of warm honey and velvet; you enthralled in this beautiful rhythm of sensations that fill your energies. Leaning over to give you a gentle, reassuring kiss that was so soft, so plush, a reminder that you belong to each other forever and nothing else in this world matters.

Because when you got home that night, Michael completely forgot about washing you up and instead pressed you against the door just to kiss you. Your lungs filling with wicked lust, bodies melting together like caramel as your needy desires take over. Not even waiting a fraction of a second to settle down at home, he couldn’t fucking wait any longer. And you couldn’t either…

“Mm— Michael,” you sighed out. “I thought you were… we were gonna…”

“Shh, shh. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise. But… after seeing you tonight like that, I— I feel like something awakened in me, or… fuck, I just want you right now…”

You chuckled. “Awakened something in you?”

As much as Michael wanted to admit it, he was ashamed. “Nah, forget it. C’mon, let’s shower together.”

“Uh-uh. I’m not gonna go until you tell me.”

Michael had to mentally prepare before cringing at his own words. Recollecting himself and trying not to make things awkward, he pursed his lips and finally confessed. “Ugh, fine... When I saw your, uh— tentacles… I just thought about, you know— if you could tie me up with them?”

Never in your years of living as a succubus had a filthy, raunchy idea like this ever cross your mind. But were you opposed to it? Deep down, you were turned on by it. Tying Michael to one of your dining chairs, his wrists bound behind him as you straddled on top and teased him with your tentacles. As you kept kissing him and grinding on his thigh, one of your tentacles were wrapped around his hard cock, stroking it simultaneously that his precum was already leaking. Hearing his cute moans and whimpers gradually get louder, struggling to kiss back or try to touch you when he forgot he was tied up… you were so turned on that you kept struggling to kiss back as well.

He will never stop recalling the time when he first saw you in your succubus form, the time when something shifted within him. Not only was he turned on by your hot physical appearance as a maneating demon, but by your feral, wild, vicious behavior of ripping apart men and eating them greedily. He felt inclined to obey you, and only you; like holding him captive and chaining him up tight in the dark, making him quiver and gasp for every unobtainable breath of air. Ruin him, hurt him, mark him, corrupt him, just fucking use him for your pleasure…

As you kept riding him and stroking him, the tip of your noses press against each other in the heat of the moment. His jaw was slackened and his brows were furrowed from the white-hot waves of sensation coursing in his body.

“Fuck, Y/N— you’re so… God, I love you. I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too,” you cooed sweetly in his ear, hearing him respond with a slutty groan when you increased the pace. He involuntarily bucks his hips into the grip of your slimy tentacles, throwing his head back and clenching his fists tighter.

“I’m not gonna last, babe. I’m not gonna last— I need you to ride me, please. Please sit on my dick. I’m begging you, Y/N— God, I need to cum inside you…”

Michael's pleads were so adorable to you, it would be absolutely ruthless to deny his orgasm like that. There was just something so beautiful about a man pleading to you if he could cum inside you; something so irresistible about hearing the urgency with which he begs for permission.

“Aw, look at you. So fucking needy for me,” you teased as the tentacle stroking his aching cock slipped away. “Once you come, I’m not gonna stop riding you... You have to fucking take it.”

After hearing your words, Michael felt like he was gonna fucking explode. He was shattered. His stomach was tied up in knots the moment you planted yourself on his cock with all your weight, throwing his head back in such euphoria. His face flushed red as he watched you ride him, his cock disappearing into your pussy like magic and then reappearing much more wet and slick. He wanted to fucking touch you so bad. He wanted to adjust himself so he could thrust up into you and slap your ass like he’d always do. But with you in complete control over him, he was in a fucking bliss— his orgasm was building up already without a warning.

“Fuck, fuck… I’m so close, Y/N.”

Dizzy with desire, you felt as if you were getting closer as well as you kept riding on his dick. You can feel himself throbbing as he could feel you pulsing around him. Your fingernails were digging onto his skin, drawing your mouth closer to his and kissing him while parting away just to moan pathetically. Your thighs started to twitch, and your body thundered with tension and neediness. Every goddamn thrust and movement of your hips had you seeing stars. It was hard to pinpoint the differences between your bloodlust frenzy and your sexual frenzy— both of them had your hunger consumed and your body ablaze…

“Oh my God… Keep fucking riding me like that. You enjoy bouncing on my cock like a hot little slut, huh?”

“I’m— I’m the one that’s supposed— supposed to tease you like that, fuck,” you whined out, immediately cut off by him kissing you and humming in your mouth.

“At least I can think straight when I’m fucking you. Whenever you come— ah, fuck— you always go so dumb on my cock.”

“Oh? But you love when I do that. Just keep thinking about… the times you fucked me so hard that, I— I lost my mind…”

“You’re gonna come, Y/N. I can already tell. Fuck, I wish I can fuck up into you right now so I can pound that pretty fucking pussy…”

You tried so hard not to give him the satisfaction so quick, but your body had already betrayed you. Your lips clashed with his in urgency as too many sensations hit you all at once. As you kept bouncing your ass on him, the sounds of sticky skin clapping together slowed down as you felt that erratic pounding in your pussy and the feeling of Michael’s cum shooting inside you and pooling down onto the base of his dick. His forehead falls onto yours, shutting his eyes as you both sat there for a few minutes collecting your breaths. You let the tentacles release him so he could finally hold you and run his hands all over you, keep you in place just so you could cockwarm him.

Your softened eyes meet with his, prompting you to smile at how cute he looks. His eyes glittered like he was smitten, madly in love, the same expression he always makes every morning when you wake up. After a couple of ardent kisses, the two of you just didn’t feel like moving yet.

“So. I hope you enjoyed our anniversary so far,” Michael chuckled. “Especially after you finally got your revenge. That was fucking badass.”

You mirrored his chuckle, smirking in amusement as you kept replaying the scenes in your head of murdering the men. “You still haven’t cleaned me up yet, you know.”

“Yeah… but if we were to shower together right now, you know damn well we’re gonna go for round two. Maybe three, four, or five…”

“Then what are we waiting for…?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

[RIDE ANNOUNCER] Please remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop. Then collect your belongings, watch your head, and step carefully out the vehicle. The nearest exit will be on your left. On behalf of all of our crew, thanks for riding with us, and we hope you have a happy and memorable visit here at Horrorland!

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access. art by rin237 on instagram ♥︎

obviously inspired by Jennifer’s Body (2009.) if you read my previous fic “ flirt with death “ this is the sequel.

𖤐 TAGS. @aft0nsimp @crysugu @rinshoe @kimekioo @porcelain_clown @willsdollface @zippertwat @strawstfu @maddietries @yourfavoriteobnoxiousomnisexual @nanananamiiii @bookmark-anon @bru1sedclavicle @hehehehesthings @dvafoxxystrashcan @dorkfilmz