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slushycoookie · 3 months ago

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Shave and a Haircut ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 7.2k ✩ Content: Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers! Worst!Logan with a black reader (but I don't go into much detail so anyone can still relate), very fluffy, smut near the end, oral sex (f! receiving), vaginal fingering, safe sex (Logan does indeed wrap it up), MINORS DNI! ✩ A/N: A one-shot about my man because after I saw that movie I had to write something about him. Enjoy!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

There is nothing like a cigar after an extended mission to ease the stress.

Logan lit his lighter, burning the cigar's tip and taking in some puffs. Smoke blows through his nose while his partner gets his sword out of his head.

"This is really stuck in here," Wade grunts, turning his head to get a different angle. "How the fuck-?" He jerks the sword around, managing to put it in deeper.

Logan watches, knowing he brought it upon himself when he taunted that gang leader, who was now dead on the floor, shredded. It was amusing to watch Wade struggle after giving him hell the entire time.

"Oh Wolvie?" Wade calls, giving him a wave. "Mind giving me a hand? Or are you just gonna watch?" Logan sighs, going over and pulling the sword out of his head with one motion. He tosses it to the ground while Wade cheers at his freedom from the blade. "Thanks, Dad."

That earns a middle finger from Logan as he sits down on the crate to resume smoking. Wade sits next to him on a smaller one, turning towards him, head tilted, and Logan knows he's batting his eyes.

"Did you give it any further thought?"

"Give any thought to what?" Another puff of smoke escapes his lips.

"That coffee shop girl. The one who gave you her number before licking that stirring spoon all seductive like." Wade describes, "A bit unsanitary, but we do what we gotta do for love."

"I'm not calling her."

Wade starts throwing a mini tantrum, kicking the crate he sat on away, hands on his hips. "But why?"

"She puts too much fucking cream in my coffee. After I told her not to."

"That's because she wants your cream. Inside her. Like many of us do."

"Then she should say it to my face and not mess up my order."

Wade groans, bringing over another crate, smaller than the last one, before plopping down on it. "You need to give me something here. I tried to set you up with the cat lady who lives above us, but you said no."

"Because she smells like fucking mothballs."

"Hey, so does Althea. And you didn't say anything!"

"I don't want to fuck Althea."

"Who doesn't want to fuck Althea?"

"Not the person who lives with her."

Wade huffs, folding his arms. "Fine. Pushing the cat lady aside, there was that librarian who was eye fucking you in the fantasy section. She definitely wanted a taste of Mordor."

"No, absolutely not."

"Ugh, who knew you were so picky? The Wolverine I knew wanted to fuck anything with a nice pair of legs and a hole."

Logan didn't respond, tapping the ashes away and taking another smoke.

A few months after Wade and he stopped Cassandra, the former wanted Logan to start branching out. Meeting other people while the merc with a mouth rekindled a relationship with his lady, Vanessa. It was Wade's way of ensuring Logan wasn't alone after he was for so long. Even Laura agreed that he should try. She said she wanted to see him happy.

"It's my decision, not yours," Logan told Wade before finishing his cigar and smashing it.

Little did he know that Logan already found someone.

A hairdresser.

Well, a licensed beautician, but you liked doing hair.

Logan met you after needing to get away from the house. Wade used his shampoo, which he wasn't sure why since the mercenary had no hair. Instead of subjecting Blind Al to another one of their famous beatings, he decided to get some fresh air.

Logan needed a wash and a trim. He was willing to take care of himself this time and not let himself go like in his other timeline.

That's when he noticed the lights of a salon while coming up the block. A large neon sign still showed it was open as someone else was inside. You were sweeping away stray hairs in the vicinity when Logan walked in, the bell ringing to alert you that someone had come in.

"Hello!" You greet, "How can I help you?"

Your cheery smile made Logan pause, "Uh, can you do a quick wash and a haircut?"

"Of course!"

He takes off his jacket, and you go to take it, but he stops you, deciding to at least keep some of his gentlemanly traits by hanging up his own clothes. You lead him to one of the sinks and secure the cape around him before having him put his head back. He sits there for a moment when you mumble that you need to get more shampoo.

The inside of the salon was simple.

Logan thought a woman like you who works there would have a more aesthetically pleasing environment—a splash of color, fancy lights, something. Instead, there are just regular barber chairs, huge, plain mirrors, and a small waiting area in the front.

Your attire was even simple. A casual T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers that were clearly made for people on their feet all day.

"Sorry, I didn't have a chance to restock the shampoo." You come back with a big bottle, setting it by the sink.

"It's fine." Logan grunts. You tilt your head to observe him for a moment. He waited for you to recognize who he is, fan girl about him, and then try to get in his pants. He wasn't looking forward to that. Logan does think you're okay to look at, but he just wanted to get a haircut and go.

After looking at him for the longest time, he decides to cut out the middleman. "Yes, I am the Wolverine, now can we get to the part where you do my damn hair?"

"Oh." You blink momentarily. "I was just checking to see if you needed a shave."

Logan could hear Wade say something stupid in his ear. Like, "Really jumped the gun, didn't you, honey badger?". "Fuck, sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, I didn't mean to explode at you like that."

"It's alright, Wolverine." You snicker while setting up your tools. "I recognized you as soon as you walked in. I thought I handled your arrival pretty well."

"Yeah, you did."

"Didn't think you'd prefer me screaming in your ear about how you're in my salon, asking me to give you a haircut and no one else. Of course, you would ask me; I’m the only one here. Alright, I'm gonna do your hair now."

Logan huffed, relaxing in the sink as you turned on the water. He jerked when the jets first hit his scalp. He knew from how your lips tightened that you weren't trying to laugh.

"Too hot?"

"Ya think?"

Quickly, you fixed the water to a cooler temperature. Logan allowed himself to relax as you did your magic.

He counted on one hand the last time someone else washed his hair. How he missed the feeling. Your fingertips massage his scalp, getting rid of the oil and dirt. The suds covered his head while you lathered his hair. His nostrils twitched at the crisp scent of cucumber and mint. It smelled delightful.

Despite the water debacle, you rinsed his hair out nicely. Making sure all the soap was gone. You placed a towel on him, getting rid of the excess water before helping him sit up. Logan felt sluggish, knowing he was about to fall asleep if you kept massaging him like that.

You couldn't help but snicker. "Don't fall asleep on me now." Logan didn't have a good comeback, half-assed muttering something when you led him to your styling chair. "I think we should give you a shave."

"No." He feels his beard on instinct, protecting it from your razor.

You playfully pout, and for a moment, he thought it was cute. "Aww, come on. Not even a trim?"

"Are you like this with all your clients?"

"No, only with Wolverine."

Logan rolled his eyes, "Logan. Enough of this Wolverine shit."

"Okay, Logan." He shakes his head, not saying anything else. "You got until I finish your haircut to let me know about that shave."

You maneuver behind him and begin your work. Logan's mild annoyance turned docile as you combed the knots out of his hair. Nothing but your light breathing and the turned-down radio in the background. He holds in a breath when you run your hands through it once more with oil. Even that oil smelled good. Slightly sweet.

"You walked in here with these cute little tufts on the side of your head." You compliment as you pull out the blow dryer. "Do you still want those?"

"They're not cute." Logan rebuttals, "Just style it the same way I had when I walked in."

"With the tufts, got it."

The hair dryer cut him off before he had a chance to speak. He sat there, gripping the handles of his chair and watching the excess hair fly around his face. All this time you were still gentle, handling his hair with ease.

Logan felt how his hair was soft, much softer compared to when he does it. His hair hadn't felt that way for a long time.

"So, you probably forgot, but you saved me years ago." You mention, running the brush amongst his head.

"Oh?" Logan's stomach turned. Of course, he met a person that his best self saved.

"Yeah, I know you save a lot of people, so it's easy to lose track. But it meant a lot to me." You recount the event as if to remind him. How a few rogue mutants tried to take over a city block, including the bank you were in. One of the guys tries to hold you hostage, escorting you to a car to take you to a second location. Only for Logan, not him, the other one, to show up and attack the mutants after scooping up your shaken body. Telling you, "It's okay, sugar."

"I wanted to see if I could thank you by offering a free haircut. It was stupid, you probably had access to the best barbers wherever you lived."

Logan shrugged, "They were alright."

Your laughter was nice, squeezing his heart. "Thanks for saying that. I still felt ridiculous though. That's why I gave up on the idea. I knew I was never going to see you again. Until now."

You turn him towards the mirror, showing off the hair cut with his barely noticeable tufts. Logan's eyes lit up seeing himself. He wasn't sure how you managed to give him the same haircut but better.

"Shit."

"A good shit, right?"

"Yeah."

You motion around his beard, your offer still standing. A beard trim wouldn't be bad but Logan had a feeling that once he went home, Wade would notice something different about him and didn't want to deal with that.

"Maybe another time. Thanks."

When he stands, he pulls out his wallet. You place your hand on top of his to decline. It was a brief touch but enough to make his heart jump.

"It's okay. On the house."

"Forget that, I gotta pay ya."

"Were you not listening when I said I wanted to pay back the Wolverine who saved me?"

He was but that was the thing. Logan wasn't your Logan. He was the worst one and you were trying to give him a free haircut. The wrong Logan.

"I don't like taking stuff for free."

"You're gonna have to deal with it." You fold your arms, "I'm not having you pay."

Logan didn't want to go through this song and dance. Being around someone as kind as you was long enough for him. He grunted, taking his jacket. You said goodbye as if you weren't going to see him again. But he wasn't the type of man to receive things without giving back.

That's when it started. His odd relationship with you.

Logan saved money on the side to give to you when he saw you next time. Yes, he was planning to see you again. His excuse to himself was you did his hair well. No other reason.

So when it was time for his next haircut, Logan had a plan. When he went to pay you, he would include the money from last time. To just say it was an additional tip.

You were smart, though. Somehow, after the initial shock of him coming back again for the haircut, you did accept payment but only for the last haircut. The one he just received was now free. Logan scowled at you while you had the prettiest smile on your face.

"I'm serious about that free haircut."

"And I'm serious about not taking things for free."

Logan hovered above you, meanmugging you to get you to cave. But you didn't care, a playful glint in your eyes.

It was annoying. A person as kind as you doing this for someone like him. For someone who's not even your Logan. Yet, he kept coming back, getting his usual haircut.

Like a stray cat who received food. Coming back and gracing you with his presence. It was just because you were good at doing his hair.

But there were times when Logan went to see you, he didn't get a haircut. The thought of you being alone at night hit him one day. How you closed at nine on the dot. The neighborhood wasn't terrible, albeit decent. Logan didn't like the idea of you being by yourself at night. You were nice. He was worried someone would hold you up in your salon to get you alone.

So he hung around the last hours you had to close.

You said you were fine, that you had been closing by yourself for years, with hardly any problems. Logan just wanted to make sure you were safe.

You didn't put up much of a fight either. Instead, you continued to do your duties. Tidying up, restocking after the customers that came through. With an intimidating superhero on the sidelines.

"Do you go on missions?" You ask one time while sweeping.

Logan lifted the styling chair for you, making sure you could reach every crevice. "Occasionally. I have to pay bills."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Of course, they're dangerous."

He then picks up the vanity, careful to not damage anything. Logan notices how your eyes land on his bulging bicep for a second before you go back to sweeping. "Do you have anyone that worries about you when you leave? Besides Laura?"

Logan likes it when you remember the other people he's close to. He told you about Laura not long ago. How she was looking into colleges, making him realize how much of a young woman she was growing up to be. He holds off on letting her go out on many missions, wanting her to experience her youth as a citizen, not as a hero, despite having similar abilities.

"Laura doesn't worry about me." Logan snorts before placing the vanity back down. "If she does, she's really good at hiding it." You hum, keeping silent. "But I don't have anyone else worrying about me."

"I see."

"Why are ya asking?" You avoid his gaze, pretending that sweeping was more important. "Spill it, sweetheart."

You perk up at the sudden nickname. Logan realizes what came out but doesn't show on his face. Instead, he waits for your answer.

"I just wanted you to know that when you go on missions, I'll be wishing for you to stay safe and come back. If that helps…" You admit, your eyes on his own. Logan feels his heartbeat pick up, not expecting that.

"It does."

Your face gave off a look he wanted to hang on his wall. Gentle, kind, and caring. He liked that.

Logan couldn't sleep, and he could see your face once he closed his eyes. Your light scent was still on his jacket from afar when you brushed against him. It took a minute for his heart to come down at the thought of you.

"Hey." Wade waved his hand before Logan's face to snap him out of reminiscing about you. "Don't you think it's time to get another haircut? You're looking a little mangy."

Logan scowled before standing up from his position, ready to return home.

The good thing about all this is that Wade didn't catch on. Considering he was rekindling his relationship with Vanessa, Logan figured the merc would focus his attention elsewhere. Which was good because he was going to rip Wade's face off if he even teased him about his relationship with you.

When Logan goes to see you, he always makes the excuse of going to take a walk. Down to your shop where he always sees you. Alone, tidying up the place to close, playing some music in the background that makes you wiggle your hips a little. He finds himself staring at you for a bit before walking in. The aura of domesticity around your soft frame.

Logan's lips curl upwards when yours does and he enjoys the light in your eyes whenever they connect with his. He felt strange, a certain feeling he hasn't felt for a long time. Does he…like you?

"Can I wax your eyebrows?" You ask, touching up his hair in the mirror as you were almost done.

"What's wrong with my eyebrows?"

"They're so bushy." You trace your nail on one and he doesn't move. "Like that beard you won't let me touch."

"My beard is fine and so are my eyebrows."

You bat your eyelashes towards him, playfully pouting to convince him. "Aww come on. Pretty please?" Logan's breath hitched at the sight. Your pleading act was making you as gorgeous as ever. "You good? Your face is getting red."

Logan stared back in the mirror to see his flushed face. All because of you doing that stupid, adorable look. "I'm fine. Go ahead and do it."

Now you were surprised. "Huh?"

"What, you thought I was gonna say no?"

"Yeah." When you remove the cape from him, he stands, staring at you when you put it away. He is serious, and it makes you stop in your tracks.

"So, you're being for real right now?"

"Duh. Get to it before I change my mind."

You swivel your head, pursing your lips. "Ask me nicely."

"Wax my eyebrows, sugar."

Another nickname he didn't expect to come out, but you grin, motioning to the back of the building. He follows you into a small room, outfitted with a cot, a little dresser, and a stool. He wasn't a fan of how tight the room seemed, but the upside was he kept bumping into you. Or did you keep bumping into him? It doesn't matter because he felt you. That small bump against your front, and he felt your plump body—good enough to grope.

He should not be thinking about that right now.

"How's your pain tolerance?"

It was Logan's turn to shoot you a look, "I have been shot at, stabbed, impaled, what do you think?"

"Alright, alright. I just wanted to ask." You set up the hot wax, swirling it around in a bowl as you waited for it to get a suitable temperature. "Waxing might be worse compared to all of that."

He huffs, "We'll see."

You ordered him to close his eyes, and he lay there. The wax, which was bordering on very hot, coated the top half of his eyebrow. It didn't feel bad so far. He wasn't sure what you were talking about. Once the strip was placed on his hair, as quickly as you put it on, you ripped it off.

"Ow! What the fuck?"

Logan's hands balled into fists, but the claws didn't come out.

"I asked you about your pain tolerance and what did you say?"

"That shit is fucking different than getting shot at." He maneuvered to get up but your hand pushed his chest to settle him down.

"You can't leave yet, I gotta do the other brow."

"Fuck that, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Logan, I can't let you walk around with slightly uneven brows." You push him down again gently. He likes the feel of your hand on his chest. He can feel the heat from your palm. "Please let me do the other side and I'll stop."

What did he get himself into? Logan allowed you to make him suffer a little longer as you placed the wax on his other brow before ripping the hairs clean off. This time it was less unbearable but it still sucked. It wasn't all bad when you leaned closer on his face, observing his brows to ensure they were even. The shirt you were wearing this time had a v-neck, so he could quickly see your cleavage and how pretty your breasts were displayed.

"You're good."

Logan quickly got up right after you sat back. That's enough, he needed to go home. His face was redder than ever and he was about to do things a lady like you shouldn't witness. Despite the slight burn from his brows, he wanted you up in his face again. Admire your beautiful self. Kiss you.

"Sorry." You call out after closing up the back. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared." He grunted.

"Uh-huh."

"I wasn't."

"Sure."

Logan rolls his eyes. He wanted to leave but he had to take you home. He usually does when he started to see you. What if you invite him in this time? Then he'd be all over you. Wanting to bury himself in between your thighs and have the whole block know how good he made you feel. He was never like this before.

Logan leads you out and waits for you to lock up. Sweat starts sticking to his forehead and down his neck. He was just taking you home. That's all he had to do.

"Caught red-handed!" Wade jumps up from behind a car, pointing at the two of you as if you were about to kiss. That's what Logan wished he was doing. "So this is where you were going late at night. Snuggled up with another woman."

"Another woman?" You questioned, brows furrowed and Logan could see you were going to get upset. But he didn't have time to wonder why.

"My roommate here has been very secretive," Wade teases. I sometimes lie in bed waiting for him to come home, worried that he got lost or found his way into a bar. Little did I know…" He shoots Logan a mischievous grin.

If you weren't nearby, Logan would stab him in the balls.

"Alright, relax." Laura appears from the same car Wade was. "He's not doing anything shady."

Logan looks confused at her, "You two thought I was up to something?"

"Just me." Wade slides closer to him, "I brought Laura here because it's been so long since we had a girl's night."

Laura rolls her eyes. "I was worried about you. Now I don't need to." She glances over at you, who is so confused about everything but is taking this in stride. "Hi, I'm Laura."

"You're Laura?" She nods for confirmation, "Oh my god, I didn't think I get to meet you!" You shake her hand while admiring her. "I love your hair, by the way."

"Oh, thanks." Laura shoots Logan a smile of silent approval.

"And I'm Wade." He gets close to you, Logan's back hunching a bit as Wade is too close. Of course, you don't mind when you shake his hand back. "Do you like my hair too?"

"Uh, of course." You observe the worn-out toupee. "Although I'm not sure why I see staples…"

"It's because he's a fucking idiot." Logan cuts in.

"Not only that, but I can't grow hair." Wade tells you, "Sometimes I'd like to spice it up when I see my lady or when I want to go to the Dollar Store."

"Is��is that the only one you have?" You ask, eyes filled with worry.

"Yeah, pretty much."

You observe him momentarily and Logan sees the hairdresser glint in your eye. "Do you want some more? I have a couple of wigs in the shop that were given to me."

Wade blinks, looking at Laura and Logan in shock, "Really? You'd give them to me for free?"

"Yeah, I'm not using them." You turn to go back to the door but Logan blocks your path.

"You just closed up."

"I'm just going to grab a few wigs for your friend to try-"

"You've been on your feet all day. He can wait another day, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" Logan heard Wade whisper.

You purse your lips, "I didn't recall this being your salon."

"It's not."

He stares you down, and you stare back, trying to will him to let you back inside. Logan's not sure how long the stare-off takes, but Wade stands between you two.

"The wigs can wait, I don't need to go to the Dollar Store anytime soon."

You tear your eyes away to focus on Wade. "Are you sure? It's no problem."

"I'm sure. Plus, the sexual tension between you two was a little crazy-"

"I just remembered!" Laura silences Wade with a hand on his shoulder. "We were going to get donuts. For Althea."

"Is 'donuts' a new code for cocaine-?"

"Actual donuts." She pushes him away down to the sidewalk, Logan being eternally grateful. "Bye, it was nice to meet you!"

"It was nice to meet you too!" You wave them away, watching them go down the block. Logan made sure Wade was far away from his sight before sighing.

"I didn't expect them to show up."

"It's okay. I'm glad I got to meet Laura."

The corner of his lips go upwards, "Me too."

Logan walks you home to your apartment in a complex similar to the one he lives in with Wade. Once you go to your door, you turn to him, head slightly tilted.

"When will I see you again?"

"Soon." He says, causing you to roll your eyes at his vague words.

"Please tell Wade to stop by, I was serious about those wigs."

"You keep inviting him in he's not going to leave."

"So…like you?"

Logan lets out a short chuckle, "Not even close."

"You sure about that?" You step closer to him, playfulness in your eyes. Logan looks down at you, feeling the subtle warmth of your body through his leather jacket.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing…"

You pull away and he wants to chase after you, but he doesn't. Logan makes sure you go in, saying goodnight to you.

This can't continue. His heart was going to implode if he kept dancing around you. He needed to tell you of his predicament. That he wasn't the Logan of this timeline. After dealing with Wade and Laura.

When he came in, Wade immediately handed Laura twenty bucks, face filled with defeat. "I know you're over two hundred years old, but I thought you had some game, man."

"For once, I agree." Laura adds, "It's good you're taking it slow, though. She seems nice."

"She is. The only thing is she thinks I'm this timeline's Logan."

The bombshell Logan drops makes Wade and Laura look at each other.

"I don't see the problem here." Wade says.

Logan explains how this timeline's Logan saved you and why you've been so generous to him. He tries to not let the fear of telling you his true origins get to him. He knows it's the right thing to do.

"Wait a minute." Wade squints and goes up to Logan, who eyes him suspiciously. "Why are your eyebrows so neat?"

Oh shit, Logan completely forgot you waxed his eyebrows.

"Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, they are really neat." Laura observes before running her thumb over his eyebrow. "And smooth."

"Stop messing with my fucking eyebrows." He snatches his head away.

"Did you get your eyebrows waxed?" Wade asks, then proceeds to explain, "I know this because Vanessa usually does. And I like feeling how smooth her eyebrows are—like a baby's bottom. Wait a minute. Did the hairdresser lady wax your brows?"

Logan was so close to ripping his head off. But Althea just got a new rug and he didn't want to get blood on it.

"If he let her wax his eyebrows, that man is down bad." Althea says on the couch, eating a glazed donut.

"Truly down bad." Wade cosigns, and Logan decides that's enough talking and retreats to the bedroom.

He wants to follow through on his plan to tell you about his true origins, but he isn't sure how or when to tell you.

The next time he saw you, Wade and Laura tagged along. The latter wanted to see you again while the former wanted to see what types of wigs you had. Logan watched you give Wade plenty of options to choose from. Although he instantly grabbed the one that radiated 'Legolas' vibes, with the long, platinum blonde hair to his waist, saying this would be a good one to role-play with Vanessa.

You suggested giving Laura a quick trim of her ends, seeing that some of them were split. As always, you were so quick in your work. Laura's face lit up at the subtle difference touching up her hair made. His heart squeezed when you made his daughter smile.

He wants to tell you. He wants to tell you so badly.

Logan didn't know how you'd take it. If you'd be mad at him for lying in your face. Or horrified when he tells you all the dark things he's done. But he couldn't take another moment of staring at you, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

He knew how he was going to tell you.

"I think it's time for a trim." Logan says while sitting in the chair.

You examine his hair, "No, your hair is okay right now."

"I'm not talking about my hair." Logan runs his hands over his beard, earning a gasp from you.

"Really? Really, really?" He nodded before you squeal, going through the drawers to pull out your tools. The beard comb, razors, and scissors.

"Just shape it up and make it neat." He instructs, getting worried that you would shave it off completely.

"I got it."

Logan felt weird with your hands on his face. You rubbed a bunch of liquids along his beard, took the comb and made sure the hair was neat, and used the razor to trim up the sides and his sideburns. It had been a while since he's had a gorgeous woman like you feel along his face.

He admires the work you've done on his beard, how neat and clean it was compared to how he was growing it out. A look of pride on your face shown while observing him in the mirror.

"You look handsome."

Logan's mouth twitches to hide back a smile, "Thanks." When he stands, once again he gathers his wallet to pay you. As he hands you the money, you reach to take it but he doesn't pull away. "I'm assuming this one is free too?"

"Of course."

Logan grunts as you take his money from his last haircut, putting it in your pocket. "Look, I need to tell you something."

"Okay?" Your brows raised in curiosity, "What's up?"

A lump forms in his throat as he takes a minute to say what he's going to say. "I'm not your Logan." You blink with confusion and he continues. "I mean it. The Logan who saved you years ago, isn't me."

"Oh. Oh!" You take a step forward, "You're a clone then? Infused with the other Logan's memories?"

"No, not even close, sugar."

Logan briefly explains the multiverse, the different timelines that include a multitude of realities and people. He is from another timeline, one where he was alone after his team died. He went on a murderous rampage and killed bad and innocent people alike. He wasn't this timeline's Logan who died a hero—or about to die as one.

"I couldn't lie to you anymore." He admits, "I didn't want you to get your hopes up. Over a guy who you've admired for years. I'm not that guy. In fact, I'm the worst of them all."

You shake your head, fingertips grazing against the fabric of his shirt. "You're not the worst. Not one bit."

"I just told you I killed people. Innocent people."

"In the past. And you made up for it by saving this timeline right?" All he could do was nod and not focus on how close you were to him right now. "You're not the worst Logan. You're the same one who stayed with me almost every day when I closed, lets me give you free haircuts, and has a wonderful friend and daughter who cares for him so much. I'm pretty sure there aren't any other Logan's who do that. Or have that type of support."

He laughs briefly, "I don't like how you're so understanding about all of this."

"Why?" Logan doesn't know what to say, feeling he doesn't deserve this. Deserve you. However, Wade and Laura's words appear, telling him that he deserves this. To be happy. "I like you, Logan. Shouldn't I be a little understanding?"

"You should." He gazes at you, seeing your eyes fill with care. "I like you too." Logan's fingers curl around the belt loops of your jeans to pull you closer, your body flushed against his. He submerges himself in you, his forehead amongst yours, the tips of your noses brushing along one another.

"Just tell me to stop."

You don't say anything, giving him permission to kiss you.

Immediately, Logan groans against your lips. He's finally able to taste you. And how denied he's been for so long. He presses you against the vanity, your hands forming a death grip on his shirt. You've been desperate for this as much as he's been. You just had better self control.

Logan takes over, placing you on the vanity. He grunts in satisfaction as your legs wrap around his waist. Your tongue is in his mouth, and you taste the cigar he had earlier. Your light moan is the only thing he focuses on, his hand on your lower back and pressing your body closer to his.

"Mm!" You hum when pulling away, your lips forming a cute pout that Logan held back in kissing you again. "I'm a bit rusty."

"At kissing?"

You nod, "That and…you know."

Logan chuckles, his nose brushing against yours. "I don't know. You're gonna have to say it, sweetheart."

"Sex." You whisper like it was a secret, "I know it's surprising for someone in their forties."

"It's more surprising when you look like this…" Logan gropes your thighs, burying his face in your neck. His eyes almost roll back in smelling you, wanting to do so for a while. "It's been a while for me too."

"Really?" You gasp, but that was because he gently nibbling on your neck. "I thought you would-" You're cut off when Logan sucks on your skin, creating a dark mark that causes you to squeeze your thighs against him.

Logan freezes, getting a whiff of something new. Straight down to your core. He growls at smell of your arousal and pulls you closer if possible.

"You should close early."

He allows you enough room to check your clock on the wall. "We've got thirty minutes left."

"I don't know if I can hold on for that long." Logan's lips are on you again, not wanting to forget how you taste. He's not sure why he's like this. Maybe it's because he finally confessed to you. Or because you liked him back. Or because he's finally getting his libido back after a long time. He knows he'll fuck you in the salon if you keep stalling.

You pull away again, trying to catch your breath from his kisses. "Okay, okay. Closing early wouldn't hurt."

Logan wanted to carry you. His stomach twisted when you had to part when you were closing up. He was by your side the entire time, wanting to at least keep ahold of that intoxicating smell you were radiating. A light grope to your ass that made you giggle. An arm around your waist once you finally locked the door. Anything to be close to you.

The two of you were speed-walking to your apartment. Logan's palm pressed against your stomach, face against your head while you tried to unlock the door. Having a hard time as he was humping against your plump bottom. Clearly showing you how aroused he was.

You stumbled forward once the door opened but he caught you with his arm. Your back was pressed against the door when you two made out again. Tongues dancing, nipping at each other's lips. His jacket fell to the floor before picking you up, trapping you against the door.

"Wait…" You pull away again.

Logan starts getting concerned, "What's wrong? We going too fast or something?"

"No! No, not at all. I'm worried that my condoms might be expired."

He gets a moment of clarity. He didn't bring any. Logan honestly didn't think his night with you would lead to this. Now, he was underprepared.

"Fuck, I don't think I bought any-" While searching his pants, he feels a wrapper. Logan pulls it out to see a condom in his back pocket with a sticky note. It was filled with a little drawing of Wade's Deadpool persona sending him a bunch of hearts.

'Go get 'em, tiger.'

He'll need to thank Wade later.

"We're good. Where's the bedroom?" You point down the hall and he carries you there, all while you pepper his hair with kisses.

Logan lies you down on your comforter before raising your arms. He pulls off your shirt and gets a glimpse of your sports bra. He swears he gets harder when removing your shoes, then your jeans. You maneuver to take off his shirt as he kicks his boots away. Your hands unbutton his jeans while he kisses you for the hundredth time.

He wasn't sure what you were worried about as everything about you was making his cock form an imprint against his boxers. If anything, Logan wasn't sure about himself when you went to rub him and he almost keeled over.

"Keep doing that and I won't last."

Logan pushes you flat on the bed, covering your skin with kisses. Your neck, collarbone, the tops of your breasts. You raise the sports bra over your head and Logan can't stop staring.

Your breasts were so perfect, sitting pretty just for him. He takes a moment to admire you. A fingertip grazed your nipple, causing you to jerk a little. His eyes scan to your soft stomach, adorned with stretch marks. And your black panties that covered up the place he was excited to get to the most.

"All of this for me?"

"It can be…" You spread your legs wider, inviting him in. Logan fits in between your legs and leans down to suckle your breasts. Running his tongue all over the areola and nipple. Rolling your other nipple with his thumb, reveling the sweet sounds you made. Your hands gripping his hair as your arousal was getting stronger.

Logan groans against your skin before trailing kisses down to your tummy, across your navel, and hovering above your underwear. He almost drools when removing your panties. The smell getting stronger once the piece of fabric was gone.

"F-Fuck…" He shudders, "You smell so fucking good."

"You can smell me?" You question but he doesn't answer. Logan parts your legs wider, one leg over his shoulder. His palm takes its place on your stomach when he dives in. Oh, he wants the taste of you seared in his mind. He groans as his tongue flattens against your clit, licking that sensitive bud with a purpose. Burying his face in your pussy.

"Logan…" You sigh his name in a mix of your sounds of pleasure. While he flicks your bud, a finger goes inside you. And he feels how wet you are. How easily you're taking him in.

He adds another finger, and you squirm, but he makes sure you don't move away. He wants you to take it, to take all that he has to offer.

Logan picks up the pace in eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. All while your whines become constant and your body starts moving more and more. Even with his enhanced strength, its getting difficult to hold you down.

"Ohh Logan, I'm-" Your panting gets heavier, and he smells the sweat on you. Logan keeps going, alternating between sucking on your clit and pumping into you. You try to warn him about your climax but it was too late when you scream for him. Filling up the entire bedroom with your arousing sounds.

Logan sits up, watching you bask in the bliss of your ecstasy. Your eyelashes fluttered while you catch your breath. He can't hold back anymore. He needs you now.

"You did so good for me, honey." He breathes out, pulling off his boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight of his girthy cock. A few veins along the shaft, his tip beading with pre cum. Logan's chest swelling with pride as you couldn't stop staring. "You ready?"

"Yes."

He does his best not to tear the condom, sliding it on his shaft. Logan hovers above you, wanting a clear view when he enters you. Your mouth gapes, and his brows furrow, watching himself disappear inside you. You fit him perfectly. He puts his head back to keep control. Just entering you was enough to make him want to come right there.

"You feel fantastic. Oh fuck…"

Logan grips your thigh when he moves his hips, enough to almost be out of you before sinking into you again. His pace consisted of slow but rough thrusts as he watches your breasts jiggle during each moment. Your face was there but not there as you took his thrusts. Being fucked out of your mind.

He loves how he's easily he's able to slip in and out of you due to your wetness. Obsessed with how he's handling you. He leans down on his elbows, hitting a much better spot that makes you gasp. Immediately, you grip the nape of his neck, moaning in his ear.

"Oh, right there!"

Logan moves his hand to your ass, lifting you up a bit more to get a better angle. You cry out for him, and he knows your throat will be sore in the morning. He ruts into you, growling and grunting as he's getting close. His pelvis rubbing against your clit was enough to push you over the edge once more. Your cunt squeezing around his cock just right. And made Logan almost tear your sheets the way he climaxed.

His groans fill your ears, cum filling the condom. It was so much that he wondered if it was about to overflow.

Logan rolled over next to you, chest heaving in tandem with yours. He wanted to say a lot of things, wondering what this would mean for his relationship with you. But you curled up beside him, a gentle hand on his chest. Gazing at him with your signature warm eyes.

"I hope my neighbors don't complain tomorrow."

"If they do," Logan unsheathes his claws, and you stare at them in awe, "I'll scare them with these."

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x black reader #wolverine x black reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #x black reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine #logan howlett

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princessbrunette · 4 months ago

Text

when spoiledexgf!reader ponders on her relationship with rafe, it always come down to one thing. how on earth did they end up together in the first place? her scowl upon thinking of this would often soften into a reminiscent smile in realisation. it was his attitude that drew her in.

you remember where you were— at the county club, shock horror, and you were all alone. you weren’t in the mood to socialise that day, after one hundred things had already pissed you off you were simply there to pick up some lunch and head on home.

you frequented there, so you knew all the faces. even guys like rafe cameron, who would always stare or have something to say like you didn’t know all his tricks already. yes he was fine, but he was going to have to work a lot harder if he wanted to actually stand out.

you totter through the club in glittery sandals headed straight through to the bar where you could order your food and drink to go. you do so, and stay there whilst you wait for the order to be prepared. you’re actually lost in thought, tapping your nails on the plastic menu on the counter before you feel a big looming presence at your side.

rafe cameron leans on the counter top, already that smug little smile on his face. the one that made him look all smarmy and expensive. he’s nursing a whiskey in his hand despite the time being only along the lines of 4PM — and you move along slightly, clearing your throat. now he’s just blatantly staring at you.

rolling your eyes, you feel your lashes kiss your brows as you turn to face him. “can i help you?”

his mouth turns down in amusement as he holds his hands up defensively. “nah, just here to talk. is that… is that not okay?” he plays it off like a nice guy, but you know how fucking crazy he is. you’ve heard the tales. the future version of yourself bangs on the glass wall of the memory, begging you to just walk away.

you say nothing, turning to face the front once more. this doesn’t deter rafe from making conversation.

“y’know i uh, couldn’t help but notice how good you look today… i mean you always look fine as hell but today… mhm.” he hums, taking a sip of his whiskey and you feel him lean back just a little so he can eye you.

“thanks.” you state blankly, trying to ignore the way his special attention warmed your stomach ever so slightly. you wanted to slap yourself for being so pathetic.

“yeah… for sure.” he licks his lips before moving up alongside you to stand closer. “look, lemme get to know you, alright? i’ll take you out.” he offers.

“i have a man.” you blurt out, and it’s instantly met with a scoff that melts into a strained chuckle as he runs a hand down his face, shaking his head. oh? you blink at him. it wasn’t technically a lie. you were seeing someone, whether or not you’d call him your man was unimportant. “what?”

“nah, nothing.” he smirks, still clearly amused as the aftershock of his laugh still bubbles past his lips. “you got a man, huh? then uh, why are you here… ordering n’payin’ for your own shit?” he reaches down and gently plucks your hand off the counter, observing it. “and uh, why are your nails not done? yeah i’m not sure this guy knows what he’s doing ‘cause uh—”

you snatch your hand away, feeling your face heat as you huff. “its not your business.” you stare up at him, probably thinking you look real intimidating but those doe eyes only made you reflect the appearance of an angry little kitty-cat. you’re distracted, so when the country club worker returns with your food in its to go box, rafe maintains the eye contact with a lazy smirk, leaning over you to tap his card on the reader, paying for it.

“you’re welcome.” he states, before sliding your phone off the counter where you’d rested it and holding it out for you to take. “guess you owe me now huh? why don’t you go ahead and unlock your phone so i can put my number in there n’i’ll go ahead n’call it even. alright?” he raises his eyebrows, and you couldn’t believe it — but something about the way he was handling you made you wanna back down. submit like prey. you swallow, feeling that attitude disappearing little by little as you silently unlock your phone and hand it to him on the contact page.

he smiles, satisfied and nods before typing it in and handing it back. “text me. i’ll get you right.” he lets his lips curl up a little again, all pleased with himself as he finally steps out of your space — instantly striding off without a glance over his shoulder as he heads towards one of his friends that had just entered.

you couldn’t help your intrigue. but as the famous saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

#spoiledexgf!reader #rafe cameron prompt

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hedgehog-moss · 7 months ago

Note

The blueberry tart moral quandary has been very fun to ponder! Thank you for sharing it with us. I think the real question, however, is what each of your animals would think about ordering two slices of tart under the circumstances

You're right, that IS the true question here. Let's situate this in a universe where blueberry tart is safe & delicious to eat for all animal species.

CHICKENS. The chickens would definitely want that second helping of tart because chickens live in a solipsistic moral universe and would hesitate to share tart even if it was their dying sister's last wish. However if you place two slices of tart on the ground for 2 chickens, they will immediately and violently start fighting each other over the same slice, thus giving you the opportunity to discreetly retrieve the first slice for yourself. Moreover, if a chicken manages to break off half of the slice and starts running like hell to go eat it elsewhere in peace, the other chicken will take off after her instead of eating the other half happily by herself. If they then break this half in two while fighting over it, they will resume fighting over that half of the half, allowing you to retrieve 3/4 of the second slice. And so on. This is Zeno's paradox applied to chickens and tart: the hens will spend the rest of eternity fighting over diminishing crumbs while you get almost all of the second slice back (albeit broken in increasingly minuscule halves.)

CATS. Not only would the cats want that second slice regardless of who else wants it, they would also sit & start grooming themselves on the rest of the pie with great serenity, rendering it inedible for anyone else. However, my original post established that the pies were under large bell jars. Two of my three cats are (to their everlasting torment) stymied by this sadistic human invention. If the bell jar is heavy enough that you can't push it off the table (a popular strategy), then Mascarille and Merricat will just circle it a few times, ram their faces into the glass, do a full body swipe against it in case this might open a secret door, and then walk away in frustration. Morille on the other hand is a cat possessed of extreme patience, diabolical intelligence and acute interest in forbidden food. She will get the tart no matter how long she has to lie in wait.

DOG. Pandolf would not want a second slice or even a first one, if he is made to understand that this might make other people sad. The thing with Pandolf is, he can smell disappointment. His great big nose picks up on every particle of human disappointment in the air and they go straight to his heart. He is also too polite to even defend his bone from thieving chickens. There's no way he would claim any tart at all unless someone gave it to him and made it clear they would be happy for him to eat it. However Pandolf is very cute when he sits there with a lolling tongue, happy for others to have a good time, and there is also no way one or several persons wouldn't give him their slice of tart. He would definitely end up with tart.

LLAMAS. Pampelune is the matriarch and since her duties involve dying to protect her herd in case of predator attacks, she considers it her prerogative to eat first and as much as she damn pleases in compensation. She would get two slices. I believe Poldine would choose to have only one slice and kiss everyone in the restaurant on the cheek for good measure, and I also believe she would actually get zero tart. As shown in the salt video, Poldine understands her place in the pasture hierarchy (the one who eats last) and has to resort to subterfuge to get even 1 lick of salt while others are gorging themselves. She will be very dependent on other people's temperance and decency to get any tart (so, Pandolf is her best bet.) Meanwhile Pampérigouste is trying to figure out how to escape the restaurant undetected to go on an adventure while the sheeple are talking about tart. She will get one or two or three slices but only if they can facilitate her various stratagems (for example, to bribe a guard at the door.)

The FISH—do not have the cognitive abilities to worry about morals but more importantly, do not experience soul-deep desires in the way the birds and mammals in this list do. My fish live in a smooth and quiet world where the gods make food rain from the sky every day. In this luminescent existence of untroubled abundance their capacity for longing has atrophied. They do not understand what wanting tart means, let alone the complex philosophical agonies humans can put themselves through when faced with culinary conundrums.

DONKEY. Pirlouit's first instinct would be to claim all the tart he can eat and then some. However donkeys and fish sit at opposite ends of the philosophical spectrum; Pirlouit strikes me as an animal who would be interested in exploring the ethical ramifications of the issue, as an intellectual exercise. 70% of his life consists in quiet deep ponderings. I think Pirlouit could get distracted ruminating the blueberry tart quandary in light of the rich philosophical heritage of donkey civilisation, and arrive too late to get any tart by the time he determined whether one or two slices is the right answer. Kind of like that time he got distracted by his need for revenge and was late for breakfast and the llamas had already claimed the hay.

IN CONCLUSION.

#ask #thank you for the question this was also fun to ponder!#morille & the hens were the most obvious answers

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hirschkuh-im-traum · 4 months ago

Text

Bloodlust

the plot is: it's becoming problematic to stay in the hotel for a hungry vampire like you, but alastor knows how to help you

part 1, part 2

words ≈ 8k

warnings: smut, blood and gore, so much blood, mention of animal death, biting and licking of blood and just licking, bj, kinda intoxication, hallucinations, size difference (reader is a short vampire), grammar or spelling mistakes

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

“I think you better not ban her from eating,” Commented Angel, not taking away his eyes from the screen of his phone.

“Angel, her food is blood. She tortures and kills to get it. ” Vaggie tiredly massaged her temples, “It goes against the rules of the Hotel, you can't hurt anyone.”

“Then why is she even here?” He threw up the lowest section of his arms, looking up at Vaggie.

“Because she needed it!” Charlie interrupted.

The princess would always remember how she met you. You came to the hotel late at night, when Charlie couldn't fall asleep, trying to find the answers to the questions of redemption. You rushed into the hall red-handed. Blood was on your face, hands, clothes. It dripped from your mouth and claws, staining the carpet. Your eyes were wide with fear, and you came up to the frightened princess, grabbed her hands with yours covered in blood and pronounced, stuttering, “You… can change me?”

You had just gone down to hell then. You didn't understand your nature, didn't know why you were always thirsty, didn’t know why you had insomnia. And you wanted to change, wanted to become yourself again. That's why after your first murdering, that you didn't even remember clearly, you ran to the place from the commercial. The place that promised you the second chance.

That first murdering was gross. That she-demon looked so… appetising. And it was your third day in hell, your hunger grew with every minute but you couldn't find any food that your organism wouldn't reject. But seeing her blushing chubby cheeks, that little pulsing vein on her neck, you thought that she was made just for your sharp fangs.

Greedy pouncing on her, you sank your teeth in her throat, squeezed her arms in your clawed grip, and you drank, drank, drank…

The first meal was messy. The body under your feet was barely recognizable, you were covered in her blood, as during the process you wanted to drink dry her every artery and vein, so you simply tore her body apart.

Your own savagery frightened you.

But two months had passed and you got used to your new essence. Blood was delicious. It was your life, your fare, drug and desire. You found decades of ways of making someone's blood run faster, so it would more easily slip past your lips through your throat right into your belly. You knew how to make a bite a torture or a bliss. Knew what type of blood was most delicious and from what part of the body it was the hottest.

The threat of eviction from the Hotel hung over you, as Niffty had found a dead stray cat under the stairs (you decided never feed on animals again, their blood was simply bad and smelly), and Vaggie with Charlie were the witnesses of something more horrible.

You had a strict conversation with them, when the girls gave an ultimatum — you had to stop killing or you'd be turned out of the Hotel.

Blood was your food, and only hot fresh blood could kill your hunger, so those plastic bags filled with blood of donors that Charlie brought from hospital were useless for you. And it caused even more anger from her girlfriend. All your words remained unheard. Vaggie looked at you with uncovered disgust and hate, Charlie with sorry and… fear.

Then you locked yourself in your room. You wouldn't leave this hotel. Just in two months it became your home. And not only the building was dear to your heart, the sinners you had found here became the thing you didn't want to lose. The prospect of leaving them seemed more terrifying than drinking cold blood from the plastic bags.

They all sat in silence for a while. The fourth day since you locked up in your room was drawing to a close, the setting sun illuminated the living room with an orange-red glow. You didn't go out, didn't speak with anyone, didn't eat. And the residents began to hear the weird sounds from your dwelling, as if an animal was raving in its cage: scratching against the walls, growls and cries, the sound of breaking furniture. But this wild noise was sounding for just three days. Today there was only silence. And it terrified the residents even more.

“It's okay to eat meat here, right?”

“Angel, she's a vampire. All she eats is blood. Fresh blood.” Her voice trembled, as she recalled how she once pointed to the smudged lipstick on your lip, and you smiled predatorily at her, licked your lip and thanked her, your eyes flashing red. Vaggie tired of explaining to everyone why exactly your diet was so… complicated. And she shivered every time explaining it. It was disgusting. This nature was disgusting. You were disgusting.

The expression of aversion on Vaggie’s face couldn't stay unnoticed from a pair of bright red eyes. The man who said not a single word during the meeting opened his mouth. The sound of atmospherics cut through tension in the air as a knife when he said,

“Why judge the girl for her diet? It would be better to help her, don't you think?”

All eyes looked at him.

“What do you mean?” Asked Charlie. Her doleful expression slightly lightened up with a hope. She didn’t want to lose you or any other resident, but she also had to protect her people. So she would listen to any advice. Even from a cannibal. Perhaps, he could know how to best combat voracious appetite.

“I mean, my dear, the only way to satisfy her hunger is to give her what she craves.” A mysterious smile played on his lips.

Vaggie prepared her spear, “I won't let you-”

“There's absolutely no need for such measures, my dear,” He said, standing up and pushing away the spear with his forefinger, “No one will be hurt, I promise. At least not of their free will.”

“Then how are you going t-”

“And that's, dear Charlie, only my worries!” And with these words he vanished in his shadow.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor materialised in the hall and headed for your room. He wanted you to hear him coming. It could whet your appetite: hearing someone's steps, heartbeat, breath. As a predator you had a good hearing, and he wanted you to feel a living being. Maybe it could make you suffer from hunger a little more.

When you came, Alastor expected your failure. He didn't believe in redemption, but if it could work after all, for everyone it was more possible than for you. A gluttonous bloodthirsty creature like you could never find its way to heaven. And how entertaining it was to watch how bit by bit you understood this yourself. And how much fun Alastor had, watching your attempts to kill secretly, to retain your chance of staying in the hotel. And how you failed every time. Indeed why couldn't a vampire hide a body after her meal? Must be too excited after her dine to worry about the consequences.

But Alastor loved you accepting your nature. He loved the sight of your sharp fangs when you smiled; loved when you sniffed with your little nose, smelling blood when he returned from another slaughter; loved when you looked at the residents like at your prey; loved when you kept your hungry gaze on him for a little too long.

Oh, how ravishing you looked when Alastor caught you in the act of eating with your lips blooded and your eyes glowing with yet not satisfied desire.

But his favourite memory was the day before your voluntary shutting. He remembered how he suddenly felt someone's eyes on him and looked up from his book. You shamelessly stared at him, as if you were going to pounce on him right there. Your forefinger was placed between your teeth, and you bit into your own flesh, peering at him with a glassy stare absolutely lost in your thoughts. The tip of your pink tongue lewdly stuck out and caressed the pad of your finger. Alastor stared back at you, but you didn't dare to take your eyes away from him, until your fang sank into your flesh, and a little red pearl slipped down your hand. Only then you came out of your trance and quickly left the room, leaving Alastor with a whetting appetite.

He smelled your blood then. It was heavenly. Just a single drop was enough to make his mind blur and his mouth salivate.

Now he was heading to your room to take more and to give more. Oh, how perfectly starved you were now after several days of hunger. And he was ready to help you, but in exchange of course.

He stopped in front of your door, the dark wood with a pinned crucifixion on the surface. Everybody knew that any symbol of any religion couldn’t work on you, but you thought it'd be funny to hang a steel cross on the door of a vampire. After all, you were a little bit of a goth. Somehow the crucifixion got rusty where the lines crossed each other perpendicularly. With sharp tips of his claws Alastor touched the cross, and it slipped, now hanging upside down. Alastor smirked and knocked slowly at the door, though he didn't have to be invited to enter.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You heard the steps coming closer and recognized them immediately by the time between each step, by their loudness, just by their clatter. The loud clops of Alastor’s heels sounded clear through the empty corridor, and the sound came closer. Then you heard his breath, slow and calm. Alastor stopped in front of your door, and his heartbeat echoed in your head, making your own pulse imitate his.

You ran to the door, although it was already locked. Three knocks on your door, cautious but demanding.

“Get out!” You could almost feel the heat of his body even through the door, his pulse became louder and louder in your head, driving you crazy. The feeling of hunger increased.

“That's me, darling,” You heard a tender voice from the other side.

“I know, go away! I can hurt you, Alastor,” Last words you pronounced quietly they were barely heard on the side of the door. But Alastor had as good hearing as you.

“Wouldn't that be lovely, dear?” His voice was low, and the words were imbued with something dark. You swallowed hard when you recognized hunger and anticipation in his tone. “Hurt me to take you pleasure?” Next moment you heard a dark chuckle behind your back and turned around, “I'm here to help you, dear.”

Your bedroom was in semi-darkness, for no lamp or candle were lit up, and the windows were curtained though not completely, so the only light coming to your dwelling was the scarlet light of hell pouring through the window right on your bed. But you and Alastor, had eyes made for hunting, and you saw each other perfectly in the dimly lit room.

Your skin was paler than usual and your lips seemed dry. Your almost insane eyes weakly shone with red when you looked at Alastor unbuttoning his coat.

“Wha-? What are you doing?”

Without taking his eyes from you, Alastor took off his coat and headed for your bed, unbuttoning the left cuff of his shirt.

“Preparing dinner for you,” He sat on the edge of your bed, one sleeve rolled up, showing his scarred skin.

His face was pale grey, but his hands were coloured in black right to his elbows, where it slowly changed into the greyish again. Thin and thick lines of white crossed his forearm mostly on the inner side, making you wonder whether he was the cause of them or the countless battles he took part in.

You didn't notice how you creeped and sat nearby him. Alastor outstretched his forearm, softly smiling at you and lightening the dark with dim yellow. You almost wished your fangs could radiate the light like this. Where the black of his skin changed into the grey you saw a thin pulsing vein. Alastor saw your dark eyes lightened up brighter, and his own mouth watered with anticipation. Slowly, very slowly you lowered your head. You took a deep breath in, inhaling his scent and brushing your nose against his skin. But instead of sinking your fangs into his skin immediately you pressed your lips to this vein in a light kiss. You looked up at him, watching his emotions. He frowned, his crimson eyes flashed suddenly. You lowered your gaze and closed your eyes, preparing to taste him.

When your thin fangs sank into the flesh, Alastor gave a sigh. He didn't feel pain, just a quick prick and then a wave of pleasure, as you let your venom slip down your fangs into his vein. It took away the pain and affected your victims like a drug, making them want to give you more of them.

You kept your teeth inside of him for a few seconds, slightly rocking your head to make the holes from your bite wider. You slightly raised your head, but before Alastor could take his arm away, you pressed your mouth against the wound and began to suck. Your one hand grabbed his wrist, while the other one grabbed his shoulder.

You pressed your lips against the wound, sucking and swallowing his hot blood. It was a tad bitter and visсit, but still the taste was beyond all of your expectations, making you slightly moan against his skin.

When the first drops of blood splashed onto your tongue, you thought you would lose control, though these were the first drops of blood for the first time in several days and the most delicious you’ve ever tasted. You grabbed onto his arm, trying to keep yourself from biting deeper into his veins. You drank blood greedily, and despite its thickness it flowed into your throat easily. You held it in your mouth, basked your tongue in it, enjoying the unique taste astringent like alcohol. Venous blood is always more bitter than arterial one, but his blood had some other tint. This taste drove you crazy. Each drip of him had to be yours.

Alastor watched you closing to him, heard you softly moaning with pleasure, as if you were trying a delicious dish. To stay focused on your beautiful hair falling in heavy waves like curtains became struggling, as his thoughts became fuzzy. He felt his hand go numb, your lips pressed against his skin tighter and tighter.

A clawed hand harshly grabbed you by your hair and pulled back. A dark liquid dropped from your fangs on his hand and the bed, as Alastor tugged you back. Your teeth tore the tender skin of his forearm, and dark red drops stained the sheets. You swallowed the blood in your mouth, still being seized in Alastor's grip. Your eyes met Alastor’s and you gave him your sweetest smile. Your poison didn't work on him so easily. Of course, he was too powerful overlord for becoming a vampire's dish just after one drop of toxin.

His blood glistened on your white fangs, evoking strange envy in him. You had a taste of him, slaked your thirst even just a little, and he wanted the same. But he felt a tad dizzy and suspected that your fangs could produce something venomous that you instilled by drops in his vein. Naughty girl, how could you poison him? And you thought he wouldn't notice? How naive of you.

He grabbed your jaw roughly, when you tried to move closer to his forearm, “Ah ah ah. Not all at once, sweetheart,” He leaned to you, still holding your hair, “A bite for a bite,” He whispered against your wet lips and threw you on the mattress.

Shadowy tentacles squeezed your hands and held them on the sides of your head. Alastor leaned over you, pressing his weight against you, taking away any chance for you to make any move. He licked his lips, staring at your bare neck. Luckily for him, today you wore a strapless short black dress. He leaned so slowly to you, saying in low, “Let me just have a taste…”, and his long tongue slowly glided over your collarbone. It was hot, but the wet trails it left made you understand how cold the air around you was. His tongue went up your neck, then under your jaw and came back to where it started its trip.

Suddenly you felt sharp pain, as Alastor buried his sharp teeth in the curve between your neck and shoulder. You whined and arched your back, but he pinned you to the mattress, gripping you by your shoulders. His teeth were merciless compared to the fangs of a vampire. Your fangs were thin as needles, they sank into your victim easily, gently parting their flesh. Caressing the hands, back or temples of your victims, you made them forget about the pain, plus your intoxicating saliva. They surrendered to death with pleasure.

Alastor was rough. His bite gave you nothing but pain, and tears formed in your eyes. You wriggled under him, but he pressed you firmer against the bed. Harshly his teeth left you, and something wet and smooth touched your skin.

Alastor licked your sweet blood and salty sweat like an animal treating a wound of its mate. His tongue left bloody traces on the unwounded parts of your skin, and he licked them clean too. Every touch of his wet muscle brought you shiver. You tilted your head, giving Alastor more place to bite and lick, and rewarding yourself with his growl against your neck, “Good. Very good.” He wasn’t wrong. Your blood was the most delectable thing that’d touched his tongue. Sweet at first lick and bitter in aftertaste like dark chocolate.

The tip of his tongue went up your carotid, and he closed his eyes, feeling your pulse. You held your breath. If he wanted to, he could end your sinful afterlife right this moment, he could take his demon form and consume you with just one bite.

Your flesh is stuck in his teeth, your blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth, he licks his fingertips soaked with your juices, his eyes tracing all over your destroyed body in a search of untouched place…

The sinful delusion caused heat between your legs. Damn, could you be aroused in one step (bite) from death? Well... Why not? That was what you made your victims feel like, sucking their last drops of blood, as you poisoned them. No wonder the man whose taste you dreamt of since the day you met roused such feelings in you.

Alastor raised his head, making you sigh in relief. He licked away your tears, placing gentle pecks in the corner of your eyes.

Alastor straightened himself when the last drop of blood was licked away and you stopped bleeding. You were slightly dizzy. He drank much more blood than you did, and you were angry with this. You still were hungry and weak, and he made you even weaker. Alastor held you by your wrists, you hadn’t noticed when his tentacles disappeared. He looked down at you, admiring the marks he left on you. The sight of your own blood dripping down his chin, falling on your tights, made your heartbeat go faster.

With a seductive smile Alastor leaned over you again and loosened his bowtie with one hand. He undone several buttons of his shirt just enough to expose his neck and thin collarbone. His scent hit your nose, watering your mouth, you could see how his carotid artery pulsed in a rhythm that accompanied your own heartbeat. Your fangs grew bigger when he whispered, “How thirsty, how impatient you are, darling. You're even drooling,” With a dark chuckle he let his two fingers slide into your mouth, and you gasped in surprise. He cut his digits against your lower incisors, and you greedily licked the little drops from your teeth and captured his fingers with your lips. The tip of your tongue played with his fingertips, and you didn't mind when your tongue bled from the contact with his claws. You were so hungry and felt fuzzily, so you could accept a little act of self-cannibalism.

Your fangs carved his fingers up again, and with a pop his fingers left your oral, making you frown displeased. Alastor stuck out his tongue, and you finally saw that inhumanly long red muscle, that turned you weaker than you even were. He licked his fingers red with yours and his blood, not taking his eyes from you. Oh, you wished you could taste this cocktail too. Though you poisoned Alastor, you felt like it was he who infected you.

“Alastor… need it.. Please…” Your voice was weak, the hunger teased with those few drops of his and your blood drove you insane, and you fought with your desire to assault him.

“I know, darling, I know.” He didn't move, still sitting atop and grinning down at you. Reckless girl. He came to you to help, voluntarily, but instead of taking what he gave you gladly and patiently, you drugged him with your venom like one of your prey. No, he wouldn't let you take it anymore. At least, not so easily.

“Alastor…” You pleaded, but he just slowly shook his head. The red light pouring down from the window illuminated his silhouette like an ominous halo. “Mm-mm. Darling, you're ungrateful. I was kind to you, and how did you treat me?” His claw slowly traced down from your chest to your belly, “With poison?” He felt how your venom ran through his veins. You ran through his vein, arousing foreign feeling in him. He felt like his mind was out from his shelf, hovering somewhere above, felt how his skin got warmer and his pulse became faster. How he hated you for infecting his mind, making him less conscious. And what was worse… Your bloody venom affected not only his mind but his body too. At least, he hoped it was because of the venom.

He could tear you apart right in your bed, drink all of your sweet blood, eat your tender meat up, and he knew some could even thank him for this. But watching you shifting your hips, rubbing your thighs against each other, he thought there would be no fun in a simple murdering of you. The sigh of your wet eyes looked so pleading and your weak voice made him think that he was not the only one under the spell. Could it be possible? Perhaps, the little of his blood made you so anticipating. This thought brought a wide predatory smile on his face. No, he wouldn’t end you, he’d rather make you face the consequences in a way suitable for a greedy little thing like you.

Your doe eyes filled with fear and then regret, “I-I'm sorry, Alastor... Sorry, I won't drug you again, I promise…” Your next mumbling confirmed his decision, “F-feed me… Alastor, please… feed me, I’ll be good…” Your plea was sweet and pitiful. But not enough.

Alastor leaned closer, ruby eyes half-lidded, lightening your face with red, “You can do better than that.”

“I-I beg you, Alastor… I need… you..?” He cocked a brow at you questioningly. Your throat was dry and you swallowed, “Only your blood is good, only you're so good, Alastor, I beg you,” Your eyes flashed and fangs grew bigger, but seeing how he leaned back from you, you bit your lower lip to blood, “Beg you, Alastor, let me have a little more of you.”

You were begging him? That was delicious indeed.

“See? That's not so hard to be a good vamp, dear.” You moaned with anticipation, your hands grabbing the edges of Alastor's shirt, not letting him go far from you. “Now now, dear, here's your treat.”

With the click of his fingers the candles near your bed lightened up, making the atmosphere in the room more gloomy but intimate. Weak flames shone in the eyes of you both, and you could see your own reflection in his widened pupils. Alastor’s face was two inches from yours, you slightly lifted your head just enough to brush your lips against his, and he captured your mouth.

The kiss was greedy, predatory, the kiss of two creatures wanting nothing more but to devour each other completely. His long tongue immediately went past your lips, going deeper than you expected, and brushing against your soft palate forward and back, making you moan in a mixture of fear and pleasure. Alastor showed plainly that he could eat you up right now. You bit into his lower lip, making him groan in your mouth, and causing a few savoury drops to fall into your oral. You held his face in your palms, and he held you by your neck with one hand and the one was on your crown.

Gaspingly you broke away from each other and stared at wonder. Alastor swallowed audibly, a thin stream of saliva mixed with blood trickled down his chin. You knew your mouth was in the same messy state, and you licked your lips still hot with his blood. Both of you smiled at the work made with your fangs and tongues.

Alastor leaned slowly, and the curve of his neck appeared just in front of your sharp teeth. He pronounced in law with a slightly trembling voice, “Ahh. Do it, dear. Now.”

But you didn't bite. His carotid artery pumped so near against your lips, you felt the heat of his body, his scent so strong and tempting. It was the smell of dirt and blood with a subtle pine scent.

You tilted your head away from the artery. You wouldn't bite here. It could be fatal.

Instead of biting you grazed his skin up with your fangs, avoiding all dangerous places and letting his blood spill without any harm for him. Alastor sighted when your soft tongue ran up against his throat. You did it slowlier than him, not spreading blood all over his skin, but licking clean, tilting your head up and down whilst your tongue caressed his skin.

“Mmm… Ah! Darling, it's tickling!” He said, when the tip of your tongue drew circles around the slit under his chin, collecting the red drops.

“Most people think we bite at the neck, but this bite is fatal,” You whispered against his skin. You slowly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and ran your fingers across his torso. The touch of your fingertips to his skin sent thrumming static from his chest that vibrated through your own body. “There's another lovely place to bite.”

You rolled over and changed the position, now you sat atop his pelvis, feeling how he swelled between his legs. You didn't take your eyes away from him, and he watched you going lower with your hands drawing circles around his chest, ribs, belly. You lay your palm on the middle of his chest and slightly left and felt his palpitation. It was beating like the bass drum, loud and hard. A melody you would choose to listen to forever.

Tenderly you left a kiss against the place where his heart was beating, after the second kiss you felt his throb became uneven, and you looked up. Alastor looked at you with a strained smile, his eyebrow knitted and gaze was full of doubts. “Even without venom it won't hurt, I promise.” He still kept his eyes on you, when you slowly sank your fangs into his flesh, sending him a vision to relax in your grab.

You keep your fangs inside him for a while and slowly take them out with a deep sigh. Looking straight into his eyes, you come down slowly, tracing your fingertips along his body, and making him shift slightly under your touches. Alastor swallows, watching you undoing the belt and the buttons on his trousers. The rustle of cloth seems unrealistically loud. Your little palm releases his twitching cock, and he can’t help but tilt his head in admiration, seeing how small you seem now, when your fingers can barely close down around his organ. The dim red lights in the room barely illuminate your face, and it seems to Alastor some of the lights are dancing right in the air as fireflies. You bring your face closer to his cock and touch his tip dribbling with precum against your soft lips. Your eyes don’t leave his face, when you place tender kisses on the top of his member over and over again. Your cold fingers get warmer because of his own heat.

Alastor watches you pressing his cock to your soft cheek and tilting your head down, until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. He sighs, seeing your blush and feeling with his skin how your cold cheeks become warmer in shame. Then you lick upward with your tongue, causing a shiver down his spine, and when you come back to the tip, you wrap your tongue around his length, moving your head down. Your devilish tongue is long and strong enough to reach to the middle of his cock and to squeeze it, making Alastor hiss and claw the sheets, “Ahh.. Right. Take it, darling.”

Your flashing with lust eyes are still on him, when your thin fingers come to his balls, caressing them, while your opened mouth goes down along his organ. He wishes you'd put it already in your little mouth, but you always delay the moment, whetting his appetite.

You capture his balls one by one into your mouth and slightly suck, moaning. Alastor throws his head back, whispering your name, when you begin to stroke his cock in your palm. Your forefingers appear on his wet tip and draw circles around it, causing more white drops to dribble down. He aches, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to take him whole already, but he only clutches tighter at the sheets.

The darkness seems to become denser as the hell's sun begins to hide behind the horizon, letting a pentagrammed moon take its place; the candles flash brighter, turning into blurred flares, as if he sees them through the fog. Two bright flames of your eyes turn out to be the only clear lights in the room, and he focuses his gaze on them. You softly moan and with a loud pop remove your mouth from his balls, bringing your face near your hand which holds his cock. The sight of you licking and biting your red glistening lips, as you watch how his dick moistens your fingers, makes his mind fuzzy. But the undoubted feeling of being touched, the realistic sigh of you and your hunger mixed with lust, chase away the thoughts that it was only a dream. You promised him not to use the venom again, and he believed you, because he hoped you were not so silly and reckless as to disobey him. And because he wanted you to take him. Maybe it was because of that venom, maybe not, but it was indubitable that he wanted you, and he wanted you to want him. So he would do anything to arouse your desire for him. He'd let you drink as much blood as you need, let you play with his body as you wish, let you suck his cock as you want it. Anything to satisfy your hunger.

And as you slowly bring your pretty mouth to his cock, as his tip lies on your tongue, as you embrace his length with your lips and go down so slowly, he closes his eyes in a bliss.

He feels the back of your throat and groans, his hand is on your crown and strokes your head, as you’re keeping to take him deeper. He throws his head back with a growl when you take him whole, and your nose’s buried in his hair again whilst his balls bump against your chin. You stay in this position without moving, and he can see only your crown and the pomegranate light pouring down from the windows on your back. Alastor begins to thrust slightly at the beginning, accelerating gradually, and you moan with his cock in your mouth. You begin to bob your head up and down his length, adjusting to his rhythm. Your tongue wraps around him, and your fingers caress the sensitive skin of his thighs.

“Ahhh, fuck!” The sound of static fills the room when he curses, as your fang accidentally touches his skin. He’s impatient, he wants you to taste different parts of him, to swallow not only his blood, so he shoves faster. And when he feels he’s coming closer, he pulls your head down, causing a whine from you, and doesn’t let you move. He makes several slow thrusts, his tip touches the deeper parts of your throat, and he hears another whimper from you, as you try to take the air through your nose and relax your throat.

“Just a little more, dear, relax…”

With a final slow thrust he comes, and both of you moan: you, feeling a different intimate taste of him, and he, drowning in pleasure with a long-awaited release.

Both of you’ve satisfied your hunger.

Hot blood was pouring into your mouth as from a tap and you only managed to swallow. Alastor lay still under you, his breath was slowly and with every deep sight the crackling of static brushed your hearing. He didn't try to evade your bite, moreover he put his palm on your crown, pressing you closer and preventing you from taking your mouth away from him. Your hypnosis worked, it helped him to relax, to accept your desire as it was his and infected him with the same hunger. His fingers brushed your hair and scratched your scalp, he whispered “good” and called you “love”, when suddenly he became louder and more active. His hips moved in slow motions, bumping against your thighs. What was he dreaming through? You only knew your hypnosis could show something pleasant, so people you bite wouldn't fight against you. You guessed sometimes they could see something seductive, as their blood ran faster into your mouth, but you'd never seen such a reaction. Alastor was loud under your touches and sucks, and it seemed that the delusion you made him see, became more realistic in his mind. His curses and moans became louder, making you blush as you never thought that the radio demon could let such lewd noises escape his mouth. And when his blood ran faster through the two tiny holes you'd made, and you felt his hardness between your legs. You understood that the lecherous mirage came to its acme and would end soon.

These new sucks of blood were matchless, simply better than anything you'd tasted before. Just sprinkling on your tongue, this rich and bitter taste watered your mouth. Tasting his blood would become your new obsession. The heavy breath reaching your ears, blood you swallowed, his movements and mumble of nothings raised your feeling of euphoria, making the laughter escape your mouth.

You looked down at the hell's overlord moaning your name in the most obscene ways and thrusting his hips against your clothed core, and you felt you’d already become wet. His blood assuaged your hunger and thirst, but not your desire. Now a different type of hunger had assaulted you.

Alastor now lay still, with trembling eyelids and panting. The vision ended, and soon he’d open his eyes, realising that what he saw was a hallucination you’d sent. You couldn't let it happen, he couldn't know that you tricked him again.

You slipped down to his knees and undid his trousers, releasing his aching cock from the cloth. It appeared bigger than you thought, and you swallowed, when a scent reached your nostrils. The tint of his skin here was the same greyish colour as the most of his body, excepting the tip that had the deep black shade. Slick and smooth; only your middle finger could hardly touch your thumb when you wrapped your fingers around it, sliding your palm down and up. The hallucination had already made him so hard and ready, that you were afraid he'd come earlier than you brought him to your mouth. The sight of that thick vein pulsing under your fingertips couldn't escape from your gaze though you were full, so firstly you placed the tip of your tongue there.

Alastor opened his eyes and felt a caress below. Hadn’t it all ended?

He rose up on his elbows and looked down. Oh, you still were there, devouring him but now in a more innocent way, if such a word could be used in this situation. Your eyes were closed, and you left quick tender kisses all over his length; on his tip you slightly sucked in; going down, you stuck the edge of your tongue and licked his dick; descenting to the base of his cock you brushed your nose against his skin and breathed in his scent.

The scent drove you insane. It differed from what you inhaled around his neck before, this one was more savoury, and you couldn't help but take deeper breaths every time as you came down. But not only his scent. Placing kisses and licking his twitching cock, you appraised new taste. It didn't provoke your hunger, but made you feel heat between your thighs and hastened your heartbeat.

The black pulsing tip appeared between your plush lips again, and you felt a gaze on you. Looking up, you saw Alastor, eyeing at you. He covered his exposed fangs with his palm, but you saw through his fingers how long and crooked his smile was. Your heartbeat became faster, when you noticed how blood from the slit on his neck was still dribbling down his chest, belly and lower part of his abdomen, how this fluid red thread came closer to the organ now settled between your lips.

You let his cock slip past your soft lips, and you had to open your mouth wider to not hurt his sensitive organ with your sharp teeth. You moaned, sucking his cock and savouring the new taste. It was salty and musky, close to the smell swimming in the air you were breathing with now. The taste so unusual sent a quiver through your body and made you dizzy as if you were feverish.

The huge palm with long red claws cupped your cheek gently, and then it traced up to your crown. Alastor held his eyes on you, still covering his mouth, and now he bit into the knuckle of his thumb, fighting back a rude desire. His ears were pressed back to his scalp, hair slightly tousled, his grin was wicked and blood with saliva dripped down his fist. He seemed pleading and angry at the same time, and you would be a liar if you said you didn't like him like this.

The wax trickled down from the candles on the floor, whilst you licked up every salty drop of your tonight lover, the wind trembled the curtains and fanned your perspiring back, making your shiver in coolness of night, and every sound of trembling velvet drowned in the rustling static of Alastor’s hard breath. You bobbed your head up and down, up and down, and every slope was lower than previous. His warm palm caressed your cheek, sending a vibration through your body, then it slowly went upward, brushing your temple and forehead, until his long fingers buried in your hair to tug you up, so only the tip of his cock grazed your tongue and lips.

You looked into each other's eyes. Your gazes pierced into your souls, facing only desire and greed. Two unsatisfied bloodlust creatures, yearning for something that was forbidden for both of you, and now found the way to satisfy your appetite.

You moaned with impatience against his dewy member, the want to lick him clear, to collect every drip of seed and blood and saliva that dribbled from his mouth now, was too strong, but he held you firmly, and you could only patiently wait for his command.

You wanted to plead “please”, but the moment when your lips touched his aching cock to pronounce the first letter of the word, he harshly pushed you down. As a muted whimper of you clanged in the dark bedroom, Alastor groaned, pressing you down to the base of his cock, as his seed flowed down your throat. You rolled your eyes back and moaned, letting the liquid glide down, subduing your desire.

“Ahh- ah! Ah, d-darling!” His palm slid to the nape of your neck, and you could finally make a move.

Alastor slightly started when you didn't let go of his member but went down once more again and again. Your eyes flashed in a different hue of bright pink, which he hadn't witnessed before, you were bobbing your head, sucking his semen and fondling his length with your small palm, which barely ringed round his member just like in his dream.

His dream?

You slipped his cock out of your mouth, a sticky white threat chained your lips and the tip of his organ. You caught it with your tongue and sent it into your pretty mouth. You kept your eyes on Alastor, licking your hand clean and sucking out what was under your claws, the prurient sound you made when you did this caused rose on his cheeks.

Your raspberry red tongue cleaned his length with several long slow licks and touched his abdomen. Slowly you began to crawl up with your opened mouth pressed against his skin. You felt him quivering under your lips as you went higher, wiping the remaining red liquid.

“Is this how you treat your every victim?” You heard soft static brushing your ears.

“No. Only you.” You whispered, glancing at him. Alastor finally seemed calm, you felt his muscles relaxed under your fingertips, he closed his lips in a soft smile, and looked at you from half closed eyes. Was it his release or a satisfied desire you didn’t know.

The air he evenly breathed out fanned your crown, when you put your head on his chest. You lay on him, bending your knees, so your legs embraced him by his sides, and you knew Alastor could feel with his bare skin what he had done with you even without touching you there. You wanted to continue and by the way Alastor's fingers drew lines around your skin, where the skirt of your dress rode up, you guessed he shared your need. But he was too exhausted. The venom, the hallucination, the orgasm, the blood he lost, all of this was too much for one night. And though your heart still palpitated too fast after all that sampled, you would give him rest. He gave you much more than you expected when he came to your bedroom.

The last candles burnt down, plunging you into the darkness. The light of the moon illuminated your bed, falling on you and Alastor. Several drops of blood were still present on his lips, you gave him a soft peck, and Alastor kissed you back weakly but tenderly.

“I won't leave this place," You whispered into his mouth.

“Of course not, darling. I won't let a sweet thing like you wander in hell all alone, and I won't let anything foul get into this lovely mouth of yours.”

You chuckled, burying your face in his chest. You were happy and grateful to know that finally someone didn't judge you but even helped you. But what else could you except from a demon like him? Why didn't you even try to ask him before? Perhaps, you were not sure he would let anyone take a piece of him into their stomach. It was too intimate.

But now...

You slightly lifted your head and asked with a mischievous smile, “Does that mean only you will feed me?”

“Why yes, my dear!" The words sounded cheerful and serious at the same time, "Since this night you can receive my blood only, and I will be the only one who'll receive yours. It's a deal, darling.”

“What? We didn't make a deal! We didn't even shake hands!”

“Sweetest,” He grabbed you by your chin, making you look straight into his eyes, “We drank each other's blood. That's more serious and intimate than shaking hands, don't you think?” His thumb slipped a red droplet into your mouth, and you nodded assent, chewing his digit, “I already have you inside of me, and you have me.”

You were bonded now. Alastor didn't offer you a deal, it wasn't necessary, he knew you both would come back to each other to satisfy another greedy desire. And you both were ready to give anything in return just for a single bite. No deal would have such power as the obsession that had taken hold of you.

You listened to his calm breath and heartbeat and thought. You sent him a hallucination, and this hallucination made him see… an interesting thing. And that thing developed into something more interesting. Did he really think this way of you? Did he really want not just your blood, but your body too? and would he like to have your soul? Oh, you were ready to give him everything if he asked. Blood, pain, soul, screams, body, love, hate. Even for free. What he gave you to taste was a worth price for your service to him.

And only the desirous part of you, the night, vampiric, ravening part of you, couldn't accept just an hour of pleasure. This part would not just take but give more to receive more in praise.

“If you want to know, the effect of the venom's over,” You said suddenly.

“Yes, I can feel it, dear,” He pronounced, gazing at you.

Why did you even say it? You wanted to be honest with him? But why? You'd never found it difficult to lie or to keep back, but now you felt uncomfortable, hiding the truth from the man in front of you. His look was sharp, and you knew Alastor wasn't the one who forgives liars (even if he himself wasn’t always frank). But not the consequences frightened you. You just didn't want to hide something from him. His red eyes and their rozy gleam hypnotised you, piercing into your soul. How could you lie, looking in these eyes?

“Darling, you better be veracious with me,” His grip on your hips tightened, and you gasped when his claws sank deeper into you soft skin. “Or do you want me to pull the truth out from you?” His razor-like teeth dangerously flashed in the darkness.

“Uh, no!” You nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck before confessing him, “Well, when I bit you, you were very tensioned, and to help you to relax I… I made you see kind of a daydream, a vision.”

“A vision?” He tilted his head, smiling wider. Why did he look like he'd already known everything and just wanted to see you ashamed of your actions?

“Yes, a vision, but! I only made your mind see something you wanted to see, I couldn't influence your vision.” You added it, considering it was important to mention that you wern't responsible for the erotic scenes Alastor saw. But he wasn't impressed with your revelation.

“That is, you are not to blame for what I saw.”

You slowly nodded.

“Interesting.”

Suddenly the room was lit up by candlelight that appeared out of nowhere. The bedroom was illuminated brighter than before with black waxed candles, and now you could clearly see each other in the uneven orange glow.

Alastor lovingly tucked a lock of your hair by your ear, his thumb caressed your cheek. He brought your face closer to him, and you whispered as your voice failed you, “Don't you need a break..? You've lost so much blood-”

“What a nonsense, dear!” He purred into your ear, stroking your back. Shiver ran down your spine, when he pronounced, “The night has just begun!”

The sharp teeth sank into your neck.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

@totespferd i know you've been waiting for this <3

author's note: i'm still learning to write this genre, and i hope it was not so bad, as my brain tries to convince me, and i'm ready to take advices ^_^

also! i wrote it, listening to the soundtracks of "only lovers left alive" (adore this movie), and i wrote the smut part whilst listening to the "sexual hallucinations" by in this moment (i fucking love maria brink), so you can listen to it too, it's a good horny song and suits well to the fic ( ͡ _ ͡°)ﾉ♡♡

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor fanfiction #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut

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reigningqueenofwords · 6 months ago

Text

Tall girls

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,575 Warnings: Oral, smut Request: my request was for a story where the reader is short ( like 5'1") and she has a crush on Dean. She overhears him at a bar one night flirting with the waitress and he says that “he likes tall girls”. Of course the reader is heartbroken. With some fluff and a little smut please. Thank you and so glad you are back.

Read on AO3

Pulling your hair up, you laughed. “I’m serious.” Sam smiled. “He screamed this high pitched scream, looking completely terrified. It was a damn cat.” You were cracking up at the expense of your long time crush- Dean. “You know what he says right after?” You shook your head, trying to breath. “He looks at me, this weird smile, and goes ‘that was scary!’” He did his best to mimic Dean’s voice. That made you laugh even harder. He was telling you funny stories, trying to distract you from his brother. Sam knew about your crush, and didn’t want you getting hurt when you saw him off being well…Dean.

“Wow.” You breathed when you could finally talk again. “I wish I had been there.” Hearing Dean’s voice, you furrowed your brows. Glancing around, you spotted him not far off with a waitress.

He was leaning on the table she was clearing, that smirk on his face. “Oh, I like tall girls, sweetheart.” His green eyes looking up and down her long, sleek body. He licked his lips unconsciously, something that you knew he really did when he saw someone he wanted to sleep with.

Turning away, you downed your beer. “Another?” You asked Sam.

“I’ll get them.” He gave you a sad smile, slipping off his stool and heading towards the bar.

Leaning on the heel of your left palm, you played with a napkin, simply staring at it. There was no joy in your face, and you were trying not to tear up. Afterall, it was just a silly crush, and now you knew that he’d never be attracted to you, right? You were far from tall. Hell, you barely were past five feet tall! Letting out a breath of air, your chest ached as if being crushed.

You heard feet, and the slight scraping of the stool near you, but didn’t look up. “Hot damn.” You heard Dean’s voice, and knew he had a cocky grin on his face. “That is a fine lady, and I got her number.” He gloated.

Without a word, you got up and walked out, wiping your cheek. Pulling out your phone once you were outside, you texted Sam.

Going to my room. See you in the morning. I’m sorry, I couldn’t listen to him brag about scoring her number…

Hitting send, you shoved your phone in your back pocket.

Sam furrowed his brows when he returned with the two beers to see you missing. Setting them down, he felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out. He groaned before replying.

Sorry. I’ll slap him upside the head. Wait up and we’ll watch something. Be there soon.

Of course, she would know soon could be up to an hour with them. Dean grabbed one of the beers and took a swig. “What the hell’s up with Y/N/N?” He asked, curious. “Almost as soon as I sat down, she got up, and walked out. Not a word. Hell, didn’t even look at me.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re an ass, you know that, right?” Sam glared at him.

Dean looked confused. “What the hell did I do?!” His tone let Sam know he was a bit offended.

Sighing, Sam sat on his stool. “You know we could hear you with that waitress, right?” Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. “Y/N/N has feelings for you. Can’t see why, though. She heard you tell the waitress you like tall women, Dean.” He took a swig of his own, clearly unamused.

“Wait, what?” He wasn’t sure he was hearing things right. “Did you just say she has feelings for me?” Sam gave him a bitch face, not wanting to answer such a stupid question. “Fuck.” He groaned, putting his forehead on his arm that was on the table. “That was her texting- wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Said she’d see me in the morning that she couldn’t stand to hear you ‘brag’ about getting her number.” He told him. “I told her I’d slap you upside the head and to wait up, that we’d watch something.”

Dean licked his lips, sitting up. “Keep texting her, keep her awake.” He said, sliding off his stool.

Sam furrowed his brows. “What’re you gonna do?”

He smiled. “Chick flick moment.” He shrugged, and Sam looked at him like he was insane. “Flowers, showing up at her door…that stuff.”

“So, what, you’re gonna show up with flowers, apologize for being a man-whore, and then go call miss tall waitress?” He scoffed. “That’s…low.”

“No, you dick.” He shot back. “I’m going to show up with flowers, apologize for being an ass, and…” Dean let out a breath. “Tell her I feel the same. Let’s just hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face.”

Sam was actually shocked at that. “Wow. The Tin Man does have a heart.” He looked impressed. Dean shot him a look as he walked away, leaving Sam alone in the crowded bar.

Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and sighed. Another night alone, and another ride home in the morning with Dean grinning like an idiot. Shaking your head, you swallowed, trying not to cry. However, as you started to undress to change for the night, you broke.

You had just pulled on a shirt that you’d swiped from Dean ages ago when your phone went off. At first, you wanted to ignore it, but couldn’t. It was from Sam, so you plopped on the bed to text him. You were glad that you had someone to talk to about all this, and he never teased you about it.

Soon, he had you laughing through the tears, time passing like nothing. Before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, which confused you. Sam was still talking about things at the bar, so you had no idea who it was. Looking at the time, it had been about an hour.

Setting your phone down, you picked your gun up off the nightstand and quietly made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. Dean with flowers was the last thing you would have thought you’d see.

You opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Dean?” Your eyes were still a bit red and puffy, as was your nose from wiping it, but you didn’t care.

Dean’s heart fell further at the sight of you. “Fuck…” He sighed. “Oh, uh, these are for you.” You were surprised when he blushed lightly, handing you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. Honestly, you didn’t know that he had known what they were. “C-can we talk?” Seeing Dean like this wasn’t something that happened much.

Nodding, you stepped aside and let him in. “I thought you’d be with the waitress. They are beautiful, though. Thank you.” You said, looking down at the flowers. Chewing your lip, you set them gently on the stand by the tv, having nothing to put them in.

He handed you a bag. “Here. For you, too.” Once you took it, he sat on the end of the bed, his leg moving like there was no tomorrow. “I hope you like it.”

Confused, you opened the bag and couldn’t help but smile sadly, the tears coming again. It was a Y/F/C stuffed Y/F/A with a little heart that said ‘I love you’. You looked over at him. “Did Sammy tell you about me being upset and you felt bad…so you came over?” You asked. “Don’t feel guilty, Dean. It’s okay, I get it.” Sniffing, your eyes went back to the stuffed animal in your hand. Your thumb rubbed the soft fur.

It took Dean a moment to process what you’d said before he got up. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him. “I feel guilty because I hurt the woman I love.” He told you, his eyes on yours. Sighing, his thumb gently wiped a tear from your cheek. “Sam was sitting at the bar while I ran around finding you that stuff.” Dean chuckled.

“That’s why he was so adamant about texting me?” You mused. “I thought he was just really bored or something.”

Dean chuckled lightly and shook his head. “Nope. I told him to keep texting you to keep you awake.” He grinned.

You licked your lips, thinking. “But what about you saying you like tall women? I’m pretty far from that.”

“I never said I disliked short women, did I?” He smirked, looking proud of himself. “Just because I like one type of woman doesn’t mean I don’t like another.” You nodded slightly, knowing he had a point. “Now, I’m going to kick off my boots, toss my jacket over there, and get into bed. Then we can watch a movie, or get some rest.”

“What if I want something else?” You asked quietly, somewhat nervous.

He furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

Pulling him to you, your lips crashed to his. The surprise quickly wore off, his arms wrapping around your waist, kissing you back. “You.” You pulled away just enough to breath that one word.

“I don’t want to rush you into anything.” He kissed your forehead.

You shook your head. “You’re not.” You smiled up at him, love in your eyes. “I trust you.” The three words seemed to ease any worries that he had, the sides of his mouth pulling up into a smile. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, your lips moving desperately against his.

His fingertips brushed up your thighs, to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “I love how you look in my shirt, sweetheart.” He grinned, causing you to blush. Pulling it over your head, he groaned when you were standing almost completely bare before him. All you were wearing was a small pair of underwear.

“You’re overdressed.” You teased, pulling his shirt off of him. Kissing over his chest, your fingers worked on undoing his belt and then his jeans. Dean let out a low hiss of pleasure when your teeth scraped his nipple lightly. “I’ll need to remember that.” You chuckled.

As soon as you had his jeans unzipped, he surprised you by pulling you up and moving you towards the bed. His hands were on your hips, his eyes on yours. “You’re beautiful.” He smiled softly.

Your knees hit the bed and you dropped, crawling backwards towards the pillows. As he pulled off his boots and rid himself of his clothes, you hooked your thumbs in the band of your underwear and shimmied them off. Biting your lip, you tossed them at him, laughing when he landed on the tip of his erection. Even Dean couldn’t help but laugh, either. He brushed them off before crawling towards you, kissing up your legs.

He parted your legs, moving to lay between them. His hot breath sent a shiver down your spine, earning a smile from the green eyed hunter. Your train of thought was cut short when he began licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Fists gripping the sheets, you tried to squirm, only for his hands to hold you in place. One of your hands went from the motel sheets to his short, dirty blonde hair.

Dean moaned when you gave it a tug, the vibrations going right through you. “Dean…” You breathed, right on the edge. “Please.” You half whined. He didn’t disappoint, curling two fingers into your wet heat. They hit that sweet spot as Dean’s mouth continued as it had been. “Oh, fuck, Dean!” You moaned, arching your back, your legs shaking.

He slowly worked you down before placing a kiss above your slit. “Way better than I imagined.” Dean told you, kissing up your body.

Pulling him into a kiss, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Your hand gripped him, slowly pumping as you moved him to his back. Your lips moved to his jaw, your hand still moving. As you moved down, you inhaled the scent that was all Dean. Leather, that cologne that he would never tell you the name of, a hint of the bars that he’d been to, and just a touch of his natural musk.

Nipping his hip, you finally released his erection, trading your hand for your mouth. Your tongue flattened, never leaving his skin as you moved. Hearing your name moaned from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, earning your own moan in return.

You could have stayed there until he finished, but he didn’t want that. “Come here, baby.” He breathed, lust dripping from his words.

With one final suck, you moved so that you were laying next to him. Kissing him, you had your chest pressed close to his. “Condom?” You brushed his nose with yours.

“Of course.” Dean nodded, getting up and moving to his pants. Once he had it, he dropped his pants and ripped open the package. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, rubbing your thighs together.

When he was back over you, you were in awe at how much love radiated from his eyes for you. “Don’t keep a girl waiting.” You teased. Chuckling, he kissed you as he lined himself and rocked his hips forward.

Once his hips were flush against your body, he broke the kiss, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned, moving his hips perfectly.

Your nails ran lightly down his back until your hands gripped his ass, enjoying how it felt having him on top of you. “Oh, Dean.” You panted.

At the sound of your voice, he gripped your shoulders, thrusting into you. His mouth was all over your neck, and you knew that you’d have marks after. The thought pushed you over the edge. He felt you start to clench around him and gave it everything he had. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” He groaned through gritted teeth, knowing that the second you came, he’d be right behind you.

Pushing your head back into the pillow, you breathed his name over and over as you clenched around him. “Oh, God.” You whimpered, knowing he was about to finish as well.

Dean thrust a few more times before holding himself against you, breathing heavily as he filled the condom. Kissing up your neck, he slowly pulled out. “I’ll be right back.” He pecked your lips before getting up. Walking to the bathroom, he pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash.

You heard him wash his hands, and then he was walking back to the bed. Nothing was said as he crawled in next to you, pulling you so that your head was on his chest, his arms around you. You put your arm over his stomach, listening to his heartbeat. “Dean?” You asked softly.

“Hm?” His eyes were closed as he laid there, content.

Licking your lips, you held him a bit tighter. “What does this make us?” Your voice shook slightly. “I don’t want to push you into anything.”

Dean kissed the top of your head. “We’re us.” He replied. “We have each other. No more flirting with waitress or bartenders for me. No more getting your heart broken because I’m an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but grin, closing your eyes. “Night, Dean. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” He felt happier than he had in a long time.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester oneshot

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xshimaeraxx · 2 months ago

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okay ik that the fandom LOVES making logan the one who’s the cat-like mutant in the relationship and i LOVE that and it is so canon but like

hear me out here! catboy!! wade!!

a wade who was a mutant long before francis got his grubby little hands in him, wade who was a mutant but it wasnt crazy regenerative abilities or an inability to stay dead/immortality or super-human strength, but a wade who was (still is) a mutant who had the abilities of a fuckin’ cat

a wade who has semi-night vision, not entirely but good enough to help out on jobs; a wade who has lil pinprick pupils like a cat’s and who hisses damn near 24/7 on bad pain days (bc chronic pain-having wade has my entire heart and i will go to the grave w this hc alr); a wade who purrs when happy or in the middle of slicing someone’s head off during a job; a wade who has a cat’s heightened senses- hearing, sight, taste, smell, all of that; a wade who has a cat’s un-fuckin’-canny ability to jump from heights that would’ve killed a human and have at most a small, gone-in-a-day bruise; a wade who has tufts of kitty-cat fur on his elbows and on + behind his knees

and then francis comes along, and the torture happens, and he loses his looks, and then the fur grows back bc fuck but he’d thought he’d lost his og mutation when francis torture mcgee had triggered this new one, had lost the one thing that ness might still recognise him for,,,

and then the start of d&w happens, and during the birthday scene wade’s purring, happy, quietly (so quietly no one hears it half the time, and when they do they assume it’s the faulty heating of wade & al’s shitass apartment, but ness looks at him with a pleased, proud little smile when the sound starts back up after the others’ initial investigation for the source of the sound proves fruitless and it, he gets louder, purely for the way ness’s smile gets wider, prouder in a way that is purely, unabashedly so ness wade wants to go other and kiss her, right then n there) yes but he’s still purring like he hasn’t since pre-cancer-diagnosis him & ness (and also bc francis’s little angel-killer had found the sound annoying as all hell [bc wade also purrs to self-soothe bc I Say So)and so he’d rarely done so since, half out of new-born habit, half out of some primal, hard-learned fear he still hasn’t managed to completely shake, even years later)

and then the honda odyssey scene happens, and wade’s purring, purring, purring, loud and proud and rumbling and happy and he’s also hissing playfully at logan- a motion logan doesn’t notice due to how distracted he is putting his claws thru wade’s left thigh and christ, kittycat, how long’s it been since you had a good hookup for you to be THIS tense?- and logan only notices after wade’s pinned him and his minorly blood-soaked grin freezes; doesn’t drop, but freezes.

wade’s purr stutters a tad, doesn’t stop. he asks, licking the blood off of his cheek underneath his mask and for some reason logan’s sharp eyes follow what he can see of the movement underneath wade’s mask: what’s wrong, peanut, cat got your tongue?

are you- are you fuckin’ purring? asks logan, and the sound abruptly stops, and then deadpool’s stabbing him through the gut with not one word and then they’re fighting again, and while logan notes the moment to think about later, wade also doesn’t say another word other then excited/frustrated grunts and little “haha!”s for the next half hour, and for some reason that about takes up the majority of logan’s attention until he finally, finally, punches wade’s already-broken nose literally not even a millisecond after he’s broken it hard enough that it actually takes a few seconds for wade’s healing to kick in, and for some reason he feels strangely relived when wade lets out a muffled-by-blood ugh! foulplay, wolvie, foulpla-

logan interrupts him via stabbing wade and a like you don’t play just as foul as i do, bub, and wade stabs back in response with some quippy comment or another, and by then the fight’s back on, deadpool-typical quips and all.

like. when i say catboy wade, here, do you see my vision. do you see what i’m imagining. dO YOU SEE IT I SAY

#screaming incoherently into the void of tumblr #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #poolverine #catboy wade wilson #wade wilson #logan howlett #x’s writing #??? kindaaa??#poolverine microfic #?? maybe

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reputationolivia · 2 months ago

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try again?

would anyone be interested in this, i thought of this plot awhile back and started working on it recently but i feel like its just gotten long and idk i feel like it might be a bit boring? so idk if anyone would be up for reading this! but i put a little snippet of it here so if anyone sees this please share your thoughts! :)

18+ minors dni

warnings: none for this one yet.

summary: you and harry dated for almost 5 years but you ended things, only problem? you got a cat together three years ago that you co-parent.

wc: 1.8k

I glanced around in search for opal as I tied the laces on my shoes. She’s always been good at hiding when she sees her crate out and ready for her, but i was ready for her today with her favorite treat in hand. "Opal, where are you baby?” I called for her. pacing through the living room I heard a faint meow coming from the kitchen, and i sighed, already knowing where she would be - the narrow gap between the counter and the fridge. I bend down and waved her treat in front of her little face to get her interested in it. “Come on out sweetie,” i coaxed, slowly her fluffy face popped out of the gap and she began licking the treat. I took this as my opportunity and gently tugged her out and scooped her up, letting her have the entire treat now as I walked over to her crate.

As I helped opal get settles into her crate I tried not to think too much about the trip ahead and what’s to come. The keys jingled in my hands as i snatched them from there small side table near the front door creating a slight sound of normalcy between all of the craziness my life has been lately. I slung my headphones around my neck, and with opal securely inside her carrier i finally stepped out into the bright, sunlit street. I caught my reflection in a car window and felt a bit ridiculous - sunglasses on, headphones dangling, and cat in tow - i shrugged it off and began my journey to the subway station.

The subway ride was pretty uneventful, at least it was at first. Opal was sitting quietly in her crate beside me as she watched the window in front of us, watching the city blur through the window. I put my headphones on and mindlessly browsed through Apple Music, i eventually decided on just playing “my station” after not being able to settle on any of my existing playlists. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular really, i mean besides the fact that I was currently on my way to meet my ex boyfriend of 4 1/2 years. As if my phone knew what was on my mind a familiar melody began playing, i felt my body tense as i recognized it immediately, my chest tightened and the air suddenly became too thick to breathe. I reached for my phone to skip to the next song. It was his song, of course it’d be my luck that’s the song that starts playing as I’m on my way to see him again. Of course, skipping it didn’t help, the damage was done.

Moving on has been hard, actually it’s been more than hard, it’s been hell, absolutely brutal. We were together for so long, four and a half years. That’s a long time to share a life with someone, it wasn’t just the memories that lingered though - it was our plans, the dreams we shared that we’d stay up all night talking about, when the world felt ours. Marriage, kids, a beautiful house with a garden, i thought it was all within reach, that it was just a matter of time. But now? Just the sound of his voice in a song sends me spiraling. It’s only been a couple months since we broke up, and seeing him as often as I do doesn’t exactly help with the whole “moving on” thing.

But now, all we have left is opal.

Opal. Our little baby. She wasn’t quite a child, but the closest thing we had. We adopted her when she was just a baby, three months old. After we broke up neither of us could bear to part with her. we had gotten her together so in the end we decided on co-parenting opal, which isn’t ideal but at the very least she had two people who loved her, and despite our failed relationship i knew she was safe with him. Even if seeing him every time i dropped her off still hurt.

The familiar ding of the subway pulled me out of my thoughts and i realized we were at our stop. I pulled my headphones back down to the back of my neck as i stood up, then grabbed opals crate and hopped off the subway. I felt like the subway ride ended far too quickly, and before i realized it i was walking up the now somewhat familiar street towards his apartment. as i got closer and closer each step i took felt heavier than the last. It felt like i was dragging the weight of everything we left unsaid, unresolved. I tightened my grip on opals crate, her quiet purring served as a reminder that despite everything, some things hadn’t changed.

But most things had.

I wasn’t the same person who used to walk the streets of New York with him by my side, laughing at the stupidest things, talking absentmindedly about everything, and nothing at all. Yet now it feels like that was a lifetime ago when in reality it was just a few short months ago. And now here i was, walking the streets of the city we once shared, alone. Having to act normal in front of the man i loved, love but trying not to as I’m about to hand over our cat like it was just some business transaction, something normal.

Ahead i spotted him standing in front of his building. He was leaning against the wall near the doors to the lobby, looking down at his phone, a casual stance that didn’t betray any of the turmoil i was feeling. Typical harry, i thought. Always composed, always calm. I wished i could say the same for myself. I reached up with my free hand to adjust my sunglasses, hoping they hid more than just the sun from my eyes. As i approached his eyes were still glues to his phone, did he even notice i was walking up to him? Now a few feet away from him, i clear my throat in hopes of catching his attention, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

He finally looks up, his green eyes meeting mine, and though he couldn’t see mine due to my sunglasses i swore i could see something flash in his - recognition? Annoyance? Regret? I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe I’m just imagining things. “Hey,” he said, finally pushing off the wall and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey,” i replied, keeping my voice as steady as i could even though every bit of me felt like breaking and like my voice was shaking with the tension of being this close to him. We walk into the lobby and i crouch down to let opal out. Immediately, she dashed out of her crate, and toward him, brushing against him with a happy meow. I couldn’t help the slight pang of jealousy i felt at how easily she seemed to adjust to this life of back and forth we’d created for her. I wish it was that easy for me.

“It’s been a while, nice shoes by the way.” Harry said as he crouched down, scratching opal behind her ears. He didn’t look at me when. He said it, instead keeping his eyes on opal. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a subtle dig when he said it’s been a while. “Yeah works been a bit hectic, and thanks.” I responded as i stood there awkwardly and hugged my arms to myself. Suddenly the distance between us felt a lot larger than just a few feet.

He stood up slowly, his gaze finally meeting mine, and i just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “How’ve you been?” He asked, for a moment i almost believed he actually wanted to know.

Good. You?”

“Same.” he said, glancing down at opal again.

The conversation stalled, i could feel the silence expanding between us, this is all we had now — awkward exchanges, empty words just to fill the space where something real used to be. I wanted so badly just to say something, anything that could break through the surface. I didn’t even know where to start, everything felt too different, too fragile and close to breaking. Opal meowed again, winding between our legs, completely oblivious to the tension hanging in the air between us.

I sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “She’s been eating normally. Likes to hide under the bed more often lately but that’s probably because of all the travel recently.” Harrys eyes softened a little. “Yeah, she’s always liked her hiding spots huh.” He paused, then added, “I’ve missed her.” His words hung there, suspended in the air between us for a while and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was just talking about opal. I nodded at his words, something about the way he said it lingered longer than it should have, i tried to push it aside, maybe I’m just reading too much into his words. Looking down at opal again i sighed, “i’ll uh, see you later.” I mumbled, now just wanting to get out and as far away from this awkward situation as possible. I turned to walk away before he could say anything, i felt his eyes on me as i made my way towards the lobby door. His gaze was sticking with me more than i wanted it to.

As i exited the building, i felt my footsteps heavy on the ground again. I took a deep breath, taking in the fresh air and trying to clear my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the what-ifs. How i wish i could be done with all this. I couldn’t afford to keep dwelling on our past, especially not with everything going on. At least through all this change i still had my job, and im fortunate enough to really love my job. My job has always been my escape, allowing be to take a break from my real life and everything i had going on. I could create stories outside my own, i could be in control, or at the very least, i could pretend to be. But in moments like this, i was just me - and I couldn’t pretend to be anyone else. I had no script or direction, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

The months after the breakup have been such a blur, it’s like I’ve been moving on autopilot. Filming, press events, and trying to keep it together in front of the cameras. I was good at that. I’ve played so many different roles, performed rehearsed lines perfectly, but none of that could’ve prepared me for the messy reality of seeing him. Missing him.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurb #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles writing #harry fic #co parenting #co parenting plot #singer!harry #famous!harry #famous!reader #actress!reader #harry styles reader insert

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harleehazbinfics · 8 months ago

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Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]

"Madam, the table is ready."

"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.

"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.

He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"

"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.

Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.

This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?

Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.

"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.

However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.

After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.

"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.

"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.

You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"

Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.

Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.

A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.

He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.

IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO

🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x oc #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #cannibal chef reader #cannibal reader #harleehazbinfics

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strawberrynightmere · 5 months ago

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Bad Cats!!! [Yandere Andrew Graves x female reader]

Warning ⚠️: yandere tendencies, alternate universe, ruining dates, will add more latter, this is short.

A/n: to those who harassed the creator of the intentionally disturbing and grosse horror game, I wish a big ol' FUCK YOU.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

If you were honest with yourself, this was your fault. Though you shouldn't beat yourself up about it, you should be surprised by the other hand.

From either of your cats, you expected this from Ashley, but Andrew attacking your date? Makes you really think.

Your date didn't like it one bit and stormed out of your apartment. You obviously did chase after them to check if they were okay, and then got rejected in a hurtful way, too. Calling you a future cat lady who's gonna die old and alone.

To say your attraction for them instantly dropped to a -1000 was an understatement. You'd understand if they left because they were allergic or something, but insulting any cat lady and saying you were gonna die old and alone simply because you have two cats was just a jackass thing to do.

Flopping on your couch face first, you groan into the cushions in frustration. It's been so long since you had a date that went well, and a good fuck too.

"Meow."

You lift your head up to see Andrew sitting in front of you. The cat leans down and licks your face. Sitting up, you lift Andrew to your eye level.

"I should be mad at you. However, you did save me from what possibly could've been." Andrew just rubs his face on yours just for some more affection.

"Hehe! That's enough. Let's get you something to eat." Those words were like some form of a summon because Ashley appeared on your shoulder without any sound.

You went into the kitchen and poured some food into their bowls, and went to grab something for yourself from the fridge.

While sitting at the dining table, you contemplate if you should make a phone call or not.

Oh, what the hell you planned to sleep in anyway.

You immediately call your friend to tell her how it went.

"It didn't go good, did it?"

"Well gee, Nina! What do you think about how it went?!" Irritated with her instant and correct assumption, you use a sarcastic reply.

"Alright! Tell me what happened."

Much better.

"It was going well at first. I was feeling it. They were feeling it, too."

"Get to the point."

"Getting there. But when we got to my place, Andrew wasn't feeling it." You hear her laughing in amusement over the phone.

"I'm serious! He attacked them, and then they said some real out of pocket stuff to me."

She's still laughing.

"I'm sorry, Andrew? Are you sure it wasn't Ashley?"

Alright, just because they were both black cats, it didn't mean you couldn't tell the difference between them. You told her that a million times.

"If you're just gonna laugh, then I'll hang up."

"Sorry! Sorry. I just didn't expect it."

You sigh. "Whatever."

"Listen, let's talk tomorrow, I'm going to bed early."

"Alright." You hang up.

"Should've called Julia instead."

You jolt in surprise when you see Andrew sitting on the table, staring at you. "We talked about this." Actually, you talked, were either of them listening or not was a mystery. You place him on the floor and put your empty dishes in the dishwasher and decide you should call it a night and head to bed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once, Andrew was sure you were deep asleep. He changed into his human form and crawled in bed with you.

"You should've seen your face, Andy, I was so sure you were gonna claw their eyes out." Ashley, who was still in her cat form, spoke.

"Why are you still here?" Andrew whispered irritatedly.

"Oh, come on, I'm living the life of luxury. Why should I leave?" Andrew just rolled his eyes at his sister's excuse, but he knew she'd rather eat glass than admit that she got attached to you.

Deciding to ignore her, Andrew continued to cuddle up to you.

"Aww, you stiw angwy youw giwfwiend bwout someone ewse home?" Now that wasn't needed.

"Shut up."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: it wasn't that good, but it wasn't that bad.

#tcoaal x reader #andrew graves x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley x reader #yandere andrew graves #yandere andrew graves x reader #x female reader

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signedkoko · 1 year ago

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I loved the mammon headcannons you did! Could I possibly have mammon x fem reader where she’s in the crowd at one of his gigs and he sees her getting flirted with so he pulls her up on stage and just starts making out with her and maybe telling everyone that she’s his?

Sorry for all the info

Mammon X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are supporting him at one of his new shows, and some of his fans get a little too comfortable with you.

In the same way you both met after one of his shows, you now went to practically every major or new performance he did to support him

I mean, it was free for you and you always got in the front row, so why not !

He always thought it was a bit cheesy seeing you in some old merch from your first show, cheering him on like some rando, but it also made him far more excited to get on and show off

Make the misses proud

Oh, and hes also an attention whore when it comes to you but that's besides the point

Usually you were more than safe, because most people could recognize you and connect the dots of how dangerous it'd be to even smile in your direction

But the lust ring performances always came up with some kind of issue

Mammon is a professional, he knows nothing in the crowd should catch him off guard or alter his performance

But god, seeing some good for nothing imp pushing up against you made him want to jump off stage then and there

You handled it with a swift punch and some security, and he figured that'd be it, but tonight it seems you were a freak magnet

Moments later, some girl was holding onto your face and trying to grab your waist

No fucking shot

In moments, you were lifted by a giant black spider leg, which had jutted from his back in your direction

Everyone was in awe, some still speculating it was performance, some wondering if you'd somehow pissed the performer off, others taking pictures of hell's most unexpected couple

" For those lousy fucks out there who think that have a chance with this lady, raise your hands so I can come fuck your shit! "

He was dead serious, but you were laughing at the stupidest threat known to man

Unfortunately you quickly became apart of the act, dipped in his arms and lips locked together

Most the crowd went absolutely wild at the display, while you were turning red with a blush

With a pop! his purple and orange tongue slithered its way out of your mouth, several strands of saliva falling onto your shirt while he licked his lips

" See you in the changing room after this, babe. "

Not even the courtesy to turn of his mic, he made sure everyone knew just how serious you were

Author's Note - I felt that making reader his s/o would make this make a bit more sense so I added that detail! I hope you still enjoy it and thank you for requesting!

I also imagine when he lifts her up from the crowd that its like one of those images of someone holding up a cat by the scruff

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader

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starryevermore · 10 months ago

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the house of snow (6) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: now that he knows of sejanus’s interest in you, coriolanus can only think of how to keep you away from him.

word count: 2,566

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: coryo’s pov, hints of manipulative!coryo, obsessive!coryo, possessive!coryo, jealous!coryo

You were maddening. Did you not have any idea of the effect you had on him? Did you not realize that you occupied every single one of Coriolanus’s thoughts? Did you not realize that you made him want to destroy all of Panem if only for a moment of your time? But now, now you looked at him with nothing but loathing in your eyes. Why? Because he gave you a kiss? Did it not take your breath away as it did for him?

Coriolanus could still feel your lips pressed against his. How soft your lips were. The way you gasped as he kissed you. How, for just a moment, you almost allowed him to touch you like that. Then you were pushing him away, looking up at him with nothing but fire in your eyes.

He almost wanted to laugh at the sight. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, your fists clenched into fists at your side. You were adorable when you were angry. No more serious than Coriolanus the Cat when he hissed at Coriolanus (the human) when he walked by. Coriolanus, for a moment, considered laughing. He liked seeing you this riled up. It made him wonder if you would be so…vivacious on your wedding night.

“What the hell was that!?” you shouted. Coriolanus stifled his snort. Were you truly that enraged by being kissed by him? “You cannot just, just kiss someone! We are not married, Snow! You promised that you would not ruin me!”

“Did I? I only recall saying your reputation would never be harmed.” Coriolanus rolled his eyes as he reached out for you again. He liked touching you. It made his mind a little quieter, reminded him that you were his. And now that he’s finally had you in an intimate way—your first and your last kiss—he wanted to do it again, and again, and again—lunch be damned. He imagined your mother still waiting in the dining room as the minutes ticked by, worry and concern and anger racing through her mind as she realized he was, in fact, ruining you for anyone else. Coriolanus licked his lips, realizing you weren’t pushing him away. Was this anger all a façade? Was this just an act for you to make him think you hated him? Were you as plagued by him as he was by you? “And it will not be, I will promise you that. If I wish, however, to kiss my fiancée in private, I shall do so.”

“You only did this so I would feel guilty if I tried to leave you for Sejanus, which I have already told I would not do!”

“No,” he said. “I did this because you drive me mad.”

“Then lock yourself in an asylum. Do not kiss me.”

Oh, there you go again. Saying such outlandish things to get a rise out of him. He loved when you were like this. He reached up, caressing your face. You tried to jerk away. And while he did love you like this, Coriolanus was also keenly aware that he needed to keep you in your place. He pinched your chin between his fingers. “You are to be my wife. You are to be the wife of a king. I shall treat you however I see fit. Do you understand?”

When you said nothing, he pinched harder. “Do you understand?”

“Only if you understand that I will hate you until the day I die.”

Coriolanus finally let out a laugh. Oh, you couldn’t be serious, could you? Were you not aware of the thin line between love and hatred, connected by the heat of passion? Did you not realize how easy it would be to get you to love him when you already felt so strongly about him? Coriolanus was sure that, by the time of the wedding, you would care for him just the same as he cared for you.

“Don’t be ridiculous, petal,” Coriolanus said. He let go of your chin, using that hand to take one of your own. “Come now, let us have lunch now. Perhaps some food will help you calm down.”

“Calm down?” you repeated. “You cannot be serious, Snow.”

Ugh. There you go again—only calling him by his last name. It was an improvement, he supposed, from only calling him “Your Majesty.” But why was he limited to his surname when Sejanus received the honor of being called by his first? Surely there couldn’t just be friendship be you and the Plinth boy. Perhaps that was why you always held him at arm’s length. Perhaps there was more there that you did not want Coriolanus to know. He still did not know what you meant by “Sejanus was right.” What was the secret you were keeping from him?

“And why wouldn’t I be? You have been acting as if I have threatened to lock you away until our wedding day. All I have done is ask one thing of you, and I have kissed you.”

“You asked me to stop talking to my friend. You…You accosted me!”

Coriolanus barked out a laugh. “And I compromised on the first point. I asked for you to refrain from speaking to him until after the wedding. As for accosting to you? What do you think will happen when we are at the altar? Better yet, when we consummate the marriage?”

You looked away from him. Ah, it seemed you hadn’t considered that. Were you as innocent as you seemed? Has your mother not yet informed you of how you would provide him heirs? He supposed that was right. Most Mama’s kept their daughters uninformed about those sorts of intimacies. It helped ensure that young ladies were not tempted in the same way young men were. You were as pure as they came, he mused, and Coriolanus Snow could not wait to ruin you. “Do not patronize me.”

“It is hardly patronizing to bring up the realities of our relationship. Now, come, let us have lunch.”

“Snow—”

Coriolanus ground his teeth together. What did he have to do to get you to refer to him by his first name? The only time he got to hear his name from your mouth was when you talked about that damned cat. He supposed that was better than nothing, but he wanted to be the only man that occupied your mind. For you to say his name because you cared for him the same way he cared for you. He imagined it sounded pretty, his name passing through your lips, honeyed with love and affection. What might it sound like when you were screaming it?

“I believe the terms of our agreement were that you behave, yes? So, I will only tell you once more that we are going to have lunch, and you shall follow me into the dining room. You will sit beside me. You will laugh when I tell you jokes. You will smile and you will be the perfect picture of a Queen. Am I understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. For a second, he wondered if you would have a comeback that make him both want to laugh and scream. But, instead, you said, “I will not be who you want me to be, even if I am on my best behavior.”

That day, you ate lunch in complete silence.

“Why is he here?” Coriolanus asked your mother as the Plinth family entered the ballroom.

Your mother was hosting a ball to celebrate your engagement to Coriolanus. He, admittedly, was growing tired of these ridiculous affairs. If he could, he would speed this entire process along and enjoy the month-long solitude that the honeymoon would bring. It would, after all, be one of the rare times he did not have to attend any public engagements, attend any meetings, or ensure that the policies being adopted were following his agenda. He would be able to enjoy you completely and fully. Yet, he had to be patient. These sorts of engagements were tricky. If he moved too fast, he risked the ton thinking that he had already ruined you. The optics of that sort of rumor would not go ever well. It was not enough for Coriolanus to have power—he had to be beloved by the people who mattered.

Of course, the ball might not have been such a terrible idea. It gave him an excuse to be near you. To remind the ton that you were his and he was yours. The only condition he gave when he received the news was that the Plinths not be in attendance.

“She threw a fit when she saw that they had not been included in the invitations,” your mother said. “I did not tell her it was because you asked for them to be excluded, if you are wondering. But she said she would sooner pitch herself out the window than allow her friend to be slighted like this.”

Coriolanus hummed. “You have to admire her loyalty, don’t you? Such a shame she doesn’t extend those same feelings toward me.”

“She will, eventually, Your Majesty. She’s stubborn, but not a halfwit. I’m sure after you two are married and have children, she’ll come to realize that you are the best husband she could dream of.”

“I believe she still hopes for a love match to save her from all this.”

When Coriolanus looked at your mother, she was rolling her eyes. “There is little a love match can provide that a well-bred husband cannot. I must take some blame, of course. I used to tell her about how in love her father and I were in our youth. How it felt like nothing in the world could stop us. I filled her head with hopes and dreams that she might find the same. I forgot to tell her how love can dwindle into nothing. About what happens when you think too much of the present and not the future.” Your mother looked up at Coriolanus. “There is no better man suited for her than you, Your Majesty, and she will realize it eventually.”

“Perhaps.” Coriolanus watched as Sejanus made his way through the crowd, to the refreshment table where you stood. His heart beat quickened. No. Sejanus could not steal you away, and certainly not at a ball celebrating your engagement to the King. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Coriolanus ignored the throngs of people vying for his attention. If he thought the meddling Mama’s were terrible before he was engaged to you, they were even worse now. Despite his obvious commitment to you, they seemed convinced that he could be so easily swayed. It took everything in him to not lose his temper. It would not go over well with the public, and he imagined it would go even worse with you. So, he held his tongue and offered tight-lipped smiles as he maneuvered through the crowd.

As he neared you, however, he began to slow. As much as he would like to get between you and Sejanus to prevent anymore conspiring against him, he was equally interested in hearing what Sejanus had to say to you. Was he confessing his love to you? Was he convincing you to run away and elope with him? The Plinths still owned their home from the times before gaining their title. It would be the perfect place for Sejanus to hide away with you.

Hmm…That was an interesting thought. Not Sejanus with you, of course. But the idea of taking you to a home in the country. Perhaps he could arrange for your honeymoon to be spent away from the Capitol? Coriolanus owned a nice summer home far, far from the Capitol. It might do him some good to get you away from the bustle of the city, to show you that Coriolanus could be a good husband if you would be a good wife. Yes, that was a good idea. He’ll need to make some arrangements as soon as the ball is over.

Coriolanus hung back in Sejanus’s shadow, careful to make sure neither you nor Sejanus did not see him. This could only work if his presence was not noticed.

“May I?” Sejanus was asking you, reaching for your hand. You allowed him to take it, lifting your hand closer to his face. For a moment, Coriolanus wondered if Sejanus was going to kiss your knuckles. Instead, he looked at the ring you wore over your long, white glove. “Coryo knows how to pick his jewelry.”

You hummed. He wished he could see your face. “I think it is a bit…obvious, don’t you? Every one knows his obsession with roses.”

“How fitting, then, he placed a permanent rose on his new obsession.”

“Is it a new obsession? You made it sound like his…so called infatuation with me ran much deeper the last we spoke.” Coriolanus wished you would pull your hand away. Why did you still allow Sejanus to touch you? He was the only person you should let hold your hand. “What is new is the…news of who you have had your eye on.”

The tips of Sejanus’s ears turned red. “I do not know what you mean.”

“Ah, so Livia and Clemmie were only gossiping then?”

“They are good at that, yes.”

It was true, then. Sejanus’s interest in you. Coriolanus crept around, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. Now that this was confirmed, he really did not want Sejanus around you—their friendship be damned. Coriolanus was not going to let anyone stand in between his marriage to you.

“I wish you would have told me, Sej,” you said.

Coriolanus ground his teeth together. Was it not enough for you to call Sejanus by his name? Did you have to have a nickname for him too?

“It wouldn’t have made any difference. Coryo has always cared for you. He’s done so much for me, I couldn’t get in the way of that.”

“It would have made a difference to me.”

Sejanus rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, his thumb pausing over your engagement ring. “It is sweet you think that.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up into a smile. “It is a naïve thought, isn’t it?”

Finally, finally, Sejanus dropped your hand. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the engagement. I’m sure you have many more people to talk to.”

“I would rather talk to you. But…I suppose I should take this as an opportunity to learn more about hosting. I am sure Snow will want many social engagements to prove we are a happy couple.”

Sejanus raised a brow. “Snow? My, that is a new development of your own.”

“Quiet. Were you not just saying you were leaving?” You tilted your head to the dance floor. “Go, find someone to dance with.”

“No one could compare to you.” But he walked away all the same.

As Sejanus walked away, Coriolanus stepped in to take his place.

“He is only a friend, Snow.”

For once, Snow said nothing. Not because he believed you, but because he was thinking of the most effective way to keep you away from Sejanus until after the wedding. Because he will be damned if he let Sejanus attempt anything that could take you from him.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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koji-haru · 4 months ago

Text

Time Travel AU Part: 7

Adam felt himself stirring awake. There was a presence near him. Close, but far enough not to touch, just kind of observing him. His first thought was Amora. The jaguar tended to always stick with him, especially since the whole Lucifer and Lilith debacle. If not beside him, she’d always be in his peripheral, seemingly on a lookout. Sometimes, she’d even usher the other animals away if there were too many of them. She was quite a protective girl. Honestly, Amora reminds Adam of his exorcists, overwhelmingly loyal, protective, and totally badass.

A shadow loomed over Adam. Did Amora move closer? Adam knew what was coming next. Multiple licks to his face. Amora had a habit of ‘grooming’ him in the morning to get him to start the day. He supposed it was time to wake up, though he would’ve rather stayed in longer. But instead of the expected rough texture of a cat’s tongue and saliva on his face, he felt a finger. Delicate fingers poked his nose, cheeks, eyelids. Gentle yet very curious.

Adam opened his eyes. Lustrous gold met ocean blue. Thick waves of red hung above him as it framed an innocent speckled face looking down at him. The rays of sunlight that managed to seep through the foliage wrapped around her, mimicking the glow of a halo. Her eyes widened as she let out a small gasp, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Eve!” Another voice not too far away called out.

Eve sat up as she turned her attention to Sera’s quickly approaching form. Adam followed suit but remained quiet, still astonished by Eve’s sudden appearance. He almost couldn’t believe it, seeing Eve again, if not for the fact that he had been living in paradise for almost a year now.

“Eve, please do not run off like that on your own again,” Sera said, a little reproachful, once she finally caught up with Eve. But once she saw the innocent joy in Eve’s bright eyes, well she couldn’t really bring herself to say anything more.

“Sera!,” Eve beamed excitedly at the High Seraphim, her hands gesturing wildly, still unsure how to express herself properly. “Is he going to be my husband? He’s so..so..!,” she stammered, unable to find the right words. She turned to look at Adam once again. “..perfect..,” she finally said, her cheeks turning a little pink.

Sera moved closer towards both Adam and Eve, a gentle smile on her lips. Placing her hand on Eve’s shoulder, she addressed the first man, “Adam, this is Eve, your new wife. You are to care for her and love her as you show her the workings of the garden.” Turning to Eve she continued, “And Eve, as his wife, you are to-” but was cut off by the sight of Adam.

Adam wanted to reach out, to touch Eve, to make sure that she was real. To feel her soft, fluffy hair. To touch her yet unmarred skin. To hear her energetic voice. He knew she was being made, that she was going to be in the garden soon, in fact he was awaiting her arrival. And yet, now that she was in front of him, he didn’t know what to do with himself. His partner in crime, through the good times and the bad times. The one who always helped him up whenever he was stuck in a pit. The one who started humanity with him. He hadn’t seen her since… since his last life on Earth. He passed before her, and he waited in Heaven for her, for hundreds and hundreds of years. Some of their children passed through the golden gates, and yet she didn’t. The first time he visited Hell, he immediately searched for her. Someone of her origins surely must’ve some sort of presence, even in Hell. Once again, he found no trace of her. Sera and the council told him that she was ‘lost’, whatever that meant, and that he should move on already. And just like that, everyone moved on. Adam had long accepted that he would never see her again, and yet she was here, in front of him, in all her innocence.

Adam wasn’t sure how long he had been just sitting there, but his vision started to blur and he felt wetness on his cheeks. “Fuck. Shit- I- I’m no sissy. Ugh,” he tried to quickly rub the tears away, but it seemed like it just wouldn’t stop.

“Adam? What’s the matter?,” Sera reached out, careful hands cupping his face.

“N-nothing. I’m just happy,” he smiled softly, not needing to lie this time.

“He must’ve felt so lonely,” Sera gave a sad smile, oh her tender heart.

It took them a while to make Eve, they needed to make sure she wouldn’t turn out like Lilith had, but when Michael told them how Adam made drawings of a supposed ideal partner and how he seemed lonely, well they had to speed up the process a little bit. Looking at his happy tears, Sera was glad that they hurried up a little.

After finally drying his eyes up a bit, Adam turned to Eve, a warm smile on his lips and nostalgia in his eyes, “It’s nice to meet you Eve.”

—-

Lucifer and Lilith both stood at the entrance of the garden. Lucifer could no longer teleport or create a portal directly into Eden, he lost that privilege as soon as they were both banished. He carefully placed his palm on the barrier protecting the garden from the rest of the world.

“As I thought, I’m blocked off. I’ve got an idea though.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on his angelic spirit, feeling the nature of it, its characteristics and elements that made it him, the Morningstar, creativity and freedom. Then he thought of another’s, one similar to him, one made from the same star dust, and then he moulded his spirit to mimic it. One that is stern and just. Law abiding and protective. He felt the changes, a frown forming on his lips. He didn’t like this, to use a cover to hide his true self, especially one that was so very unlike him, but this was the best choice. The garden should be familiar with this presence, and might allow him to bypass the barrier.

Lucifer took a deep breath, “Well, here goes nothing.”

He closed his eyes as his hand easily passed through the barrier, granting him access. Still, he remained at the spot, waiting for Heaven to strike him down. A moment passed, and nothing happened. All he felt were the familiar warm rays of sun and the cool breeze on his hand from the other side of the garden’s entrance. He eagerly turned towards Lilith, a proud look on his face.

“I think I can sneak in.”

Lilith walked closer to the angel, the smile on her face mirrored his proud one. She didn’t doubt for even a moment that he could do it, he was, afterall, the angel of creation. Still, he was only one against many, and she couldn’t help but feel worry for her beloved.

She placed her hand on his cheek and held him tenderly, “I knew you could do it, but please, do be careful. Maybe change your form into something smaller, one that could easily slip by and hide.”

Lucifer knew he wouldn’t be in real danger, sure Heaven might strike him down, but the damage wouldn’t be so severe he couldn’t recover immediately, he might lose a few more privileges but that would be it. Heaven was strict and disciplinary, but not cruel. A testament to this was them allowing him to keep his angelic abilities despite taking Lilith for himself. He was banished, but not left without tools to fend for himself and the first woman. Still, he wouldn’t want to be caught in the first place, and he wanted to ease Lilith’s worries.

He grabbed Lilith’s hand from his cheek and placed them on his lips, his eyes never leaving hers, “Don’t worry, I’ll be very careful.”

Seeing some worry leave Lilith, Lucifer let go of her hand, and giving her a final assuring look, he entered the garden fully.

—-

Lucifer slithered between the grass, and the rocks, and fallen branches trying to look for a sign of the first man. He had transformed into a white snake, having decided to stick on lower ground for now, not wanting to attract Heaven’s attention as he navigated through the garden. Then something caught his attention. Soft murmurs, and playful laughter. A pair of voices, a man’s and a woman’s. Lucifer crept along the branches of a tree nearby, trying to identify the source of the sounds. In the distance he saw Adam sitting on the grass, the jaguar who always seemed to be beside him on one side, and on the other side an unfamiliar woman. Her bright red hair and exuberant energy stood out in the calm greenery. She seemed to be human.

“Did they already make Adam a new wife?”

But that wasn’t what really surprised the angel. In front of him was Adam with his new wife, feeding her different kinds of fruits with this smile on his face that for once seemed to genuinely exude happiness and warmth. Adam the first man, who has only ever been arrogant and controlling, always wanting things to go his way only and has never been sweet to his first wife, Lilith, was now behaving in ways he never thought he would. What was happening here?

Something was definitely odd with the first man. Lucifer would pay more attention this time. Take notes of the random changes in his behaviour, and when he would have enough, he’d present them to Heaven, where they would have to monitor him closer and hopefully catch him in the act. Yeah, that would be a good start.

Part 6

Part 8

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