#tempted to do a wicked au...

[newrochellechallenger2019]

HEAR ME OUT! HEAR ME OUT!

[seongwars]

𝔞𝔰𝔥 | 𝔡𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

Pairing: pyromaniac!Jeong Yunho x slasher!Reader AU: non-idol Summary: When Dr. Kim Hongjoong arrives at the manor with his assistant, Jeong Yunho, an unsettling urge stirs within you—to extinguish his vibrant spark. But little did you know that even the brightest lights have a way of casting the darkest shadows—OR, you and Yunho commit crimes all in the name of love. Word Count: 6.6K Warnings: MDNI SMUT (18+), dark themes, swearing, blood, m*rder, violence, this is purely fictional and the characters are unhinged, I don't condone this behavior, sorry San

Fic Masterlist

a/n: dropping my poor attempt at gothic horror and running away

“Love?” you sang, skipping toward your paramour, your voice lilting in a way that would have sounded sweet if not for the blood splattered across your cheeks and the wicked gleam in your eye. The crimson stained your dress as you twirled the blade in hand, its tip dripping in time with your steps.

“How did I do?”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Yunho sighed, almost wistfully, his tone warm despite the dark intent behind his words. He reached out, his thumb tracing a path down your blood-streaked cheek.

You grinned, throwing yourself into his arms as he caught you effortlessly, pulling you into a kiss so deep that the world around you blurred. Smoke clung to him like a second skin, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes flickered to the bloodied corpse swaying gently from the chandelier—your latest masterpiece. Yunho’s gaze lingered, his expression unreadable, save for the slight curl of his lips. Approval, tinged with something far darker.

“Wasted potential,” you pouted, toying with the lapel of Yunho’s jacket. “I really wanted to keep him.”

His jaw tensed, and you caught the way his eyes darkened, the playful warmth in them giving way to something far more dangerous. Yunho’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm enough to send a spark of heat through your body. The small, possessive squeeze was a reminder of the simmering jealousy lurking beneath his otherwise laid-back demeanor.

“There’s no more room in your collection, darling,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low as he locked eyes with you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“You know I don’t like it when other men look at you.”

Something about his possessiveness sent a thrill through you. Most people would cower under such intensity, but you? You reveled in it. Your pulse quickened, your breaths coming shallow and fast, giddy with excitement. 

The first time you met Yunho, he was supposed to die like all the others. 

Aurora Manor had been in the Kang family for generations. The sprawling manor, with its towering spires and labyrinthine gardens, served as both your home and your hunting ground. Most guests, enchanted by the manor’s old-world charm and your family’s disarming smiles, never suspected the danger lurking within. 

Yunho had arrived as the assistant to your brother’s college friend, Dr. Kim Hongjoong, who was staying at the manor for a weeklong visit, and like any good hunter, you set your sights on him almost immediately. 

Yunho’s kind personality and genuine warmth made him your forbidden fruit, all the more tempting with every effortless gesture. He seamlessly fit into the household, endearing himself to everyone with his intoxicating laughter echoing through the halls. There was something about him—too vibrant, too tempting, like a fire burning too brightly. 

It made you want to extinguish that spark, to dim the light in his eyes just to see what he looked like in the dark–perfect, still, and beautiful, another piece in your collection.

But you were wrong. So, wrong. 

“Oh hush, Mimi,” you said, tilting your head in mock sympathy. “No one can hear you out here—not even San.” The mention of his name sent another wave of sobs through her, and you smirked, savoring every broken sound.

Her voice cracked under the strain, her cries fraught with desperation as she dangled helplessly from the barn rafter.

“But soon,” you continued, more to yourself now, ��with you out of the way, I’ll finally have the chance to add him to my collection. Perhaps Father can even arrange for me to marry him.” 

Mimi’s screams turned to pitiful whimpers as her strength waned, and you took a step closer, the wooden floor creaking under your weight. 

“You know,” you began, your voice carrying an eerie sweetness, “I’d almost feel bad for you if you weren’t so utterly insufferable.” You twirled a silver blade between your fingers, watching how the dim light caught on its edge. 

“Parading around high society as if you’re anything more than a lowborn whore,” you added, your tone sharpening. “Throwing yourself at him like the desperate little thing you are, sullying him… but now”—you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper—“here we are.”

You leaned in, your face inches from hers, and grinned. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure San remembers you fondly. Maybe I’ll tell him you ran away, too ashamed to show your face after I caught you alone with–”

“Y/N?”

The barn door creaked open suddenly, and you froze, your blood turning to ice. Slowly, you turned to see Yunho standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the moonlight. The horror in his eyes was unmistakable.

If Yunho ran, if he told anyone—

No. You wouldn’t let that happen.

“Oh, Yunho,” you said, your tone light and sweet, though your heart was thumping in your chest. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

Without a second thought, you drew your knife across Mimi’s throat. A wet gurgle escaped her lips, and blood spurting from the gash, painting the wooden floor and splattering across your dress. You didn’t flinch, your eyes never leaving Yunho’s as her body went limp, swaying slightly from the rafter.

You stepped forward, but Yunho matched you with a step back, his dark eyes unreadable before he turned and fled into the night. He was fast—far faster than you had anticipated. His long strides carried him through the maze of shadows, but you were relentless, the knife in your hand catching the moonlight as you darted after him.

You surged forward, your knife aiming for his chest. But he sidestepped, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist mid-swing, knocking the knife from your grasp. The weapon clattered to the ground, but you didn’t falter. You fought back, striking at him with every ounce of strength you had. He caught your arm, spun you around, and pinned it above your head as he pressed you against a tree.

But with a sharp twist, you broke free, shoving him back and diving for the knife. Your fingers brushed the handle just as his hand closed around your ankle, dragging you away. You kicked out, forcing him to release you, and scrambled to your feet, the knife now firmly in your grasp. 

The blade’s edge hovered above his skin, the pressure faint enough to make your intentions clear. Yunho’s back pressed firmly against the rough bark, his breath steady despite the danger glinting in your eyes. You dragged the blade downward, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath the cold steel.

“Killing you would be such a waste,” you murmured, tilting your head as if savoring the thought. You dragged the tip slowly, deliberately, savoring the subtle resistance as it caught on the fabric without piercing his skin.

“You’d make such a beautiful addition,” you continued, “I wouldn’t mind another pretty face.”

Yunho didn’t flinch. Instead, his smirk grew, his gaze dipping to your lips before dragging back up to meet your eyes. 

“You talk like I’m prey,” he said, his voice low and disturbingly calm.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, stopping the knife mid-drag, his grip unyielding as he leaned in. 

“But you’re not the only predator here.”

The blade slipped from your hand, falling to the ground with a muffled thud. You barely had a second to react before he reversed your positions, pinning you against the tree. His lips crashed against yours with a force that stole your breath, his hand flying to your throat and loosening its grip just enough to let you gasp against him.

The kiss was anything but gentle; it was raw, demanding, and unapologetically consuming, as though he wanted to claim you in a way words never could. You responded with equal fervor, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw a low growl from him. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips red and slightly swollen, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Let me show you.”

You searched his face, trying to gauge his seriousness. The dark, glittering look in his eyes—filled with an almost reverent fascination—sent a shiver down your spine.

⊹

“Fire has always spoken to me,” Yunho murmured, his voice low and smooth, as he grabbed your hand and led you back to the barn. 

“It’s wild, uncontrollable…but if you know how to handle it, it becomes art.” 

Yunho reached into his pocket and retrieved a small metal lighter, its polished silver surface glinting faintly in the light. 

“Do you see it?” He tilted the lighter slightly, letting the flame stretch upward. “It’s alive. It breathes, it moves, and when it’s fed… it transforms.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away, captivated by the intensity in his voice and the mesmerizing way he handled the flame. A slow smile tugged at your lips as you stared into the flickering light, an exhilarating, dark thrill coursing through you, making your fingers twitch.

Your gaze shifted to Mimi’s lifeless body, her form dangling lifelessly in the position you’d left her. Her vacant eyes stared into nothingness, her form swaying faintly with the whispers of wind slipping through the cracks in the barn walls. You took a step closer, unable to resist admiring your work. The silence was deafening, yet perversely satisfying—a chilling reminder of the finality of it all.

Behind you, Yunho moved with quiet precision, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against him. His free hand pressed the lighter into your palm, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch.

“See for yourself,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. 

With a flick of your thumb, the lighter sparked to life, its small flame casting a faint glow. You lowered it to the edge of her clothes. The instant the fire touched the fabric, it flared with a hungry hiss, consuming it greedily as tendrils of smoke spiraled into the air.

As the flames climbed higher, their flickering light reflecting in your eyes, you leaned back against Yunho. A laugh rose from deep within you—soft and subdued at first, then breaking free, loud and unrestrained.

Smoke clung to your clothes and hair as you and Yunho darted through the garden, the night air doing little to temper the heat still pulsing in your veins.

The faint glow of the fire lit your path back to the manor, its flickering light casting eerie shadows on the statues and hedges as you weaved through them. Breathless but still riding the high, you slipped inside the manor, creeping up the grand staircase to your room.

Yunho surged toward you, mouth latching onto your lips as he tore at your bodice, desperate to devour that chaos that was you. He pressed a kiss to the swell of your breasts, the tip of his tongue tracing over the soft skin before latching on to a nipple. Your hands fumbled to unbutton his trousers, desperate to get him undressed. You couldn't help the cry that escaped your throat when you felt his hand slip under your skirts and between your legs.

“Do you know how quickly a fire spreads when there’s gasoline in the air?” he asked, lips ghosting against the sensitive mound. His long fingers traced lazy circles around your slit, his ministrations, deliberate and teasing, as if drawing more of those precious sounds from you was his sole purpose.

You shook your head, stumbling back on to the mattress, your mind scrambling to respond, but you couldn't. Not when everything about him—his eyes, voice, and intensity—was pulling you deeper into the fire.

“It only takes a spark,” he purred, pressing against your lips. 

Yunho’s fingers brushed gently against the strands of your hair that clung to your face, tucking them behind your ear. He sat back on his heels, working his cock out of his trousers, fisting it without breaking eye contact with you. 

“One tiny spark, and everything you thought you controlled goes up in flames.”

He lined his leaky cockhead against you, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip. You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing and kneading as he pulled out, then moved back in halfway. 

“W-What happens when the fire gets out of control?” you gasped, your breath hitching with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your face flushed with intensity. 

Yunho bottomed out with a low groan, his body tense as he stilled inside you. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, the primal focus in them unwavering as he watched your face twist in pleasure. The way your lips parted, your eyes fluttering and rolling back, and the way your tits bounced—he drank it all in, captivated.

“You let it burn,” his lips latched on to your jawline, peppering kisses down to your neck, pushing your leg up higher so he could angle himself deeper. 

“Because once it consumes everything,” his voice faltered, at the way your pussy twitched around him, “there’s no escape.” 

Yunho’s pace became erratic, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. You squealed when his cock slid against your walls, and you couldn’t think of anything other than how you wanted him to fuck you stupid. You wanted to surrender to him, to be completely devoured by someone who could match you, challenge you, and make you feel alive in ways you never imagined. 

“Fuck fuck, take me, Yunho, please,” you babbled, ready to submit to him.

The way he stuffed you full, the sound of his hips pounding against your ass, accompanied by the sloppy squelches of your pussy drenching him with your juices, or the way he tugged at your hair, making sure you couldn’t get away stirred a heat in your lower belly, growing unbearable. 

You could smell his musk, sweat, and something else—something primal invade your senses, and you shivered. You were getting lightheaded and you swore you could hear your own heartbeat, and for a moment, you forgot to breathe as your orgasm tore through you.   

It was a smoldering ache that spread like wildfire. You clung to him, every sensation heightened—the warmth of his body beneath your touch, and the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

Yunho felt the knot in his stomach tighten, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down through the aftershocks. You knew he was teetering on the edge of his own high, and you wiggled, clenching down hard to milking him. You felt it. The way his hips stuttered, filling you completely to the brim with thick velvety ropes of cum. 

"Want you, o-only you," he stammered, struggling to catch his bread. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss a desperate collision of tongues and teeth, an unspoken promise of the darkness that bound you together. 

“Let me be yours.”

"Darling," you called out, your voice carrying a playful lilt as you meticulously polished a set of knives laid out before you. 

Yunho, seated comfortably by the hearth with a book in hand, tilted his head slightly in your direction but didn’t yet look up. His sharp features softened under the golden glow of the firelight, but there was a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

“Yes?” he replied, dragging out the word in that familiar tone that was both indulgent and wary—a tone reserved just for you when he suspected you were up to something.

You stepped closer, draping your arms lazily over his broad shoulders, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. His lips quirked into a small smile despite himself, though his gaze flicked briefly to the blades on the table.

“It seems we’ll be going to our next victim, rather than him coming to us.”

"The Choi’s," Yunho muttered, his jaw tightening, the muscle twitching ever so slightly as he processed your words.

“Isn’t it perfect?” you continued, a note of excitement in your voice. “A grand estate, a lavish event, and San, all under one roof. It’s almost as if the stars aligned just for us.”

A shadow flickered across Yunho’s expression, his eyes narrowing briefly. In a swift, almost instinctive motion, his hands found your waist, gripping firmly as he yanked you against him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with a growl that sent a thrill down your spine.

Tilting your head, you offered him a coy smile, feigning innocence. “San’s hardly a threat to you.” Your fingers reached up, tracing a delicate path along the line of his jaw, the touch soft, meant to soothe.

“You know you're the only one I have eyes for.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, though the possessive gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss against the corner of your lips. 

“Because if he tries anything, it won’t be you who takes care of him.”

The carriage rattled along the cobblestone, every jolt and bump pressing you further into the cramped confines of the plush interior.

“Who thought this was a good idea?” you grumbled, wedged between Yeosang’s broad shoulders on one side and Hongjoong’s sharp elbows on the other. Across from you, Yunho sat with an amused smile tugging at his lips, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

“Might I remind you,” Yeosang began, his tone clipped and precise, “that as an unwed woman, you are still subject to scrutiny amongst the rest of society.”

You shot him a look. “Oh, forgive me, dear brother. I didn’t realize your lectures came free with the cramped seating arrangement.”

Hongjoong snorted, trying—and failing—to stifle his laughter. “Yeosang does have a point, though. You wouldn’t want whispers of impropriety, would you?”

“Whispers of impropriety are practically a given,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. 

“And if they get too loud, I could always… take care of the problem.” You punctuated the statement with a wicked smirk, earning raised brows from both men beside you.

“Take care of the problem?” Hongjoong echoed, feigning shock as he pressed a hand to his chest. “You mean every single person in attendance at the ball?”

“I wouldn’t need to dispose of everyone,” you replied smoothly, leaning back in your seat despite the lack of room.

“Just the ones who I particularly dislike. Though I would spare your fiance, brother, she’s quite lovely.” 

Yeosang’s betrothed was indeed lovely, but in the way a porcelain doll might be—delicate, beautiful, and utterly unaware of the shadows looming just beyond her perfect little world.

The Choi estate finally loomed into view, its grand spires and glowing windows promising a night of intrigue and chaos. For now, you were content to let the banter fade as you prepared for the night ahead.

“You all survived,” Hongjoong declared as the carriage came to a halt. He threw the door open with a flourish, stepping out dramatically. “You’re welcome.”

You navigated the crowd of guests with purpose, the fabric of your gown swishing against the polished marble floor as you scanned the room, intent on finding San.

Convincing your father to agree to the engagement hadn’t been easy. You’d begged and pleaded, painting San as the perfect addition to the collection—handsome, charming, well-connected, and clever enough to keep you interested.

Your father remained unmoved, but you persisted, highlighting the political advantages of the match. Eventually, he relented—not because of your arguments, but because of your relentless determination that promised you’d stop at nothing to make San yours.

“There you are,” you said, slipping seamlessly into the role of the devoted fiancée. Without waiting for an invitation, you placed your hand lightly on San’s arm, your touch both possessive and calculated.

From the shadows, Yunho’s eyes burned with a dark intensity as he watched the exchange. His jaw clenched as San’s hand brushed yours—a gesture that seemed casual to spectators but carried intent he didn’t like.

“Walk with me,” you whispered, the command so lightly delivered it felt like an invitation. You didn’t wait for San’s answer, turning toward the garden doors with a confidence that ensured he’d follow.

The night air greeted you as you stepped onto the terrace, the chatter of the ballroom fading behind you. You barely glanced back as San fell into step beside you, his movements measured and unhurried.

“Not a fan of the crowd?” he asked, his tone conversational.

“Am I not allowed to have any privacy with my betrothed?” you replied, leading him down a path lined with hedges. 

San followed, his footsteps measured and unhurried. “Privacy?” he repeated, a soft chuckle escaping him. “That’s a rare luxury in our world. You know that everyone is waiting for the next scandal.”

“Indeed,” you sighed, your tone tinged with weariness, the perfect prelude to what came next.

You took a small step closer, your movement subtle yet designed to chip away at his composure. Your gaze locked onto his, steady and inviting, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. His eyes flickered to your lips before returning to meet yours, his composure faltering for a heartbeat. 

“That’s why,” you murmured, your voice soft, intimate, as though the words were meant for him alone, “this is the perfect opportunity for us to… escape.”

His brows lifted slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Escape?” 

You leaned in just enough to let your breath ghost against his skin, your next words dripping with suggestion.

“Away from the eyes that watch our every move. Doesn’t the idea tempt you, even just a little?” you whispered, your fingers lightly brushing his sleeve. 

Yunho watched as you wove your trap with precision, the threads of your web wrapping tighter around your victim. He fought to suppress his darker instincts: to tear San away from you, to smother him in flames, and put an end to the amusement. 

Yet he remained still, rooted in the shadows like a predator lying in wait. He knew better than to interfere. The success of your hunt depended on San’s willingness to step into your web, unaware of the danger closing in from every side. 

⊹

“Mmph, San just like that,” you moaned, voice breathy and as he slammed up into you. You could feel every inch of him as you rode him, the tip of his cock sliding against your walls and pressing into your soft, slick flesh.

Your thighs were trembling as you rose up and rolled back down onto his length, your own slickness dripping from your core, down your legs and over his thighs. 

“Fuck, you little minx,” he chuckled, reaching out to swat your ass. “Your idea of an escape wasn’t such a bad idea.”

San was panting now, his chest heaving with each ragged breath, muscles coiled tight beneath his skin. You leaned in closer, your fingers curling around his jaw, tilting his face upward into a kiss. Your lips brushed his, but your eyes stayed open, a faint smirk dancing on your lips as you watched Yunho out of the corner of your eye.

Yunho's brow twitched ever so slightly. His gaze remained steady, but the subtle tightening of his jaw hinted at the jealousy simmering beneath the surface. He could have ended this easily, efficiently, moments ago. One swift move, and San would’ve been neutralized, sparing him the theatrics unfolding before him. 

San’s hands slid down to the fat of your ass, his grip firm and possessive, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. He was consumed by the heat of your touch and the illusion of control.

“I can practically feel your jealousy from here,” you purred, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. 

San stiffened at your words, his head snapping around to follow your gaze. His eyes widened as they locked onto Yunho, who stepped out from the shadows, the glint of a syringe catching the dim light.

“What the—” San began, his voice tinged with confusion and anger.

“I’m sorry about this, darling,” you whispered, your tone laced with a teasing sweetness. “You’re far too sweet for someone like me.”

In one fluid motion, Yunho struck, the needle slipping into San’s neck with clinical precision. The sharp hiss of the syringe was barely audible, but the effect was immediate. His body jerked, muscles tensing for a brief moment before the sedative began to take hold. 

“Sannie?” you cooed mockingly, your voice lilting as you gazed up at him. 

A low groan escaped San’s lips, his eyelids fluttering weakly as the haze of unconsciousness began to lift. His head lolled to the side before snapping upright, a sharp intake of breath signaling the return of his senses.

Above him, the elaborate chandelier swayed, its gilded arms and crystal droplets gleaming eerily in the dim light. Thick ropes cut into his wrists, binding him to the curved metal and leaving him strung up like a puppet.

As a figure emerged beneath the chandelier, the haze in his vision couldn't obscure your unmistakable presence. Despite the pain and confusion, he recognized you instantly.

“Y/N!” he barked, his tinged with anger.

“Me?” you replied with a mock innocence, pointing to yourself with the knife in hand.

“Why are you doing this? Put me down!”

You tilted your head, your expression hovering somewhere between amusement and indifference. The faintest smile tugged at your lips as you took a step closer, inspecting the blade in your hand as if it were far more interesting than his presence.

“Well, I wanted to keep you for myself,” you began, your voice light and casual, as though discussing the weather. Slowly, you circled around San, your footsteps muffled by the exquisite rug. 

“But, you see, keeping someone requires a certain...process.”

San’s eyes followed your every move, his body tensing with every word. “Process?” he repeated, his voice a low growl. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You stopped in front of him, leaning slightly closer as if sharing a secret. 

“It’s something of a family tradition” you began, fiddling with the blade in hand. “We’ve been curators for generations. Artists, really, in preserving beauty. Faces, bodies... souls. It’s an art passed down from my ancestors.”

“You…kill people and turn them into...into trophies?” San’s breathing grew heavier, his heart racing as he struggled to process your words.

“And you were going to do that to…me?” 

“Of course,” you replied, as if the answer were obvious. “You would’ve been my crown jewel.”

“You’re insane!” San hissed. 

“People keep saying that,” you mused, “but I think they just don’t understand that it’s about preservation—ensuring the things we treasure don’t fade away with time.”

Your eyes roamed over his face with a detached sort of admiration, as if he were a sculpture in a gallery rather than a living, breathing man. Slowly, you closed the distance between you, craning your neck upward to meet his scowl. 

“It’s a shame,” you murmured, your voice softening into something disturbingly tender, “to waste a face and body sculpted by God himself.”

San’s form was a masterpiece, from the way his chest heaved beneath the ropes binding him to the ridges of his abdomen catching the flickering candlelight like carved stone. His arms strained against the restraints, biceps taut, and the sheen of sweat on his body accentuated every curve and line, turning him into a living, breathing statue.

The faint screech of steel against flesh made him flinch, his head jerking away sharply as he tried to put even the smallest distance between you. 

“It starts with the skin,” you said, the blade’s edge gliding slowly up his abdomen, its cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat of his body. “Carefully removed, tenderly treated with salts and oils to keep it soft, supple… perfect. No flaws, no mistakes.”

The blade lingered against his chest, resting just above the frantic beat of his heart. Your fingers tightened around the hilt, tilting it slightly as you admire the quiver of his muscles beneath the steel. "Then the muscle—preserved layer by layer, until what’s left is the very essence of you. It’s… devotion.”

“I’m not some thing,” he spat, his voice trembling with anger.

“No,” you agreed, stepping back just enough to grant him the illusion of space.

“You’re not a thing, San. You’re divine. I had to have you. Something as perfect as you deserves to be worshiped...forever.”

His chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths, his eyes flickering with desperation as he tried to process your words. But before he could respond, you turned your attention elsewhere, mischief creeping into your expression.

“But alas,” you said, your voice laced with mock sorrow, “I only have eyes for one man now. And since he said no...”

You stepped closer, your movements unhurried, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Your smile widened ever so slightly as you tilted your head toward San, “...you can’t be a part of my collection.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, the knife moved, finding its mark in an instant, slicing clean through the fragile barrier of flesh at the base of his throat.

A strangled gasp escaped him as his body jerked violently against the ropes that bound him. His wide eyes met yours, filled with disbelief, a desperate plea lingering just behind the surface. But you weren’t done.

Another thrust. And another.

The blade sank into his gut, each motion deliberate and unhurried, as if you were painting a masterpiece with every strike. Blood gushed from the fresh wounds, pooling beneath him, staining the floor at your feet. His body convulsed, his muscles straining against the bonds in a futile attempt to escape the inevitable.

You stepped back, watching the light drain from his eyes. There was a strange beauty in the way his features softened, his defiance melting into something quieter, almost serene.

“Love?” you sang, skipping toward your paramour, your voice lilting in a way that would have sounded sweet if not for the blood splattered across your cheeks and the wicked gleam in your eye. The crimson stained your dress as you twirled the blade in hand, its tip dripping in time with your steps.

“How did I do?”

“Did you enjoy pouring accelerant around the manor?” you asked, your voice teasing as you glanced at Yunho. 

He huffed, slipping his hand into San’s fur coat. His fingers rummaged through the pockets, seeking anything worth pilfering, until they brushed against a cigar case.

"I would have enjoyed it a lot more if he didn't have his hands all over you," Yunho muttered with displeasure. He bit down on the cigar, his gaze never leaving yours. The flicker of his lighter caught the curve of his pout, the cigar’s tip flaring bright before he exhaled a slow, lazy plume of smoke.

“I’m sorry my love, it was part of the plan,” you said softly. 

Rising onto your tiptoes, your hands rested lightly against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms. You leaned in, brushing a tender kiss to his lips. His mouth softened against yours, the lingering tension dissolving with his quiet sigh, leaving the cigar forgotten in his hand.

“Let me make it up to you?” you whispered against his lips.

His gaze bore into yours for a moment, intense and unyielding before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Without a word, Yunho turned and sauntered toward the chaise, easing himself against the cushions. With his arm draped along the backrest, he commanded you with hooded eyes, tracking your movement as you approached.

Trembling with excitement, you let your bloodied dress slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You sunk to your knees before him as your hands smoothed up his thighs, working to undo his trousers. The fabric gave away and Yunho lifted his hips as you pulled them down, his hand immediately fisting in your hair, dragging you up. 

"Open,” he commanded with a tone that could only send a shiver down your spine. 

Your lips parted, and he leaned in, capturing you in a rough, consuming kiss. The taste of tobacco lingered on his tongue, its rich, smoky heat clouding your senses and making your head spin. As the kiss deepened, he exhaled slowly, sending a plume of smoke into your mouth.

When he finally pulled back, your lips tingled from the loss of contact, the ghost of his touch still lingering. Yunho crushed the cigar against the ashtray before beckoning you forward with his fingers.

You stuck your tongue out, allowing his thick shaft to slide past your lips. Yunho groaned as you wrapped your hands around the base of his cock, your tongue flattening along his length and tucking his tip along the underside. Your tongue swirled around the tip before as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

He threw his head back, his thrusts growing rougher as he bucked into your mouth, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from how thick your lover’s cock was. 

“That’s it, you’ll take it all won’t you love?” he encouraged. 

You nodded as best you could, moaning wantonly as he proceeded to fuck your face, moving faster and harder. Wetness dripped between your thighs, the taste of his arousal driving your own need to be fucked as you slid a hand down, fingers pressing between your legs.

Yunho hissed from the vibration of your moan and momentarily released his grip on your hair. His fingers pressed into your cheeks, squishing them gently but firmly, tilting your head to ensure your gaze stayed locked with his. You looked up at him, panting, cheeks flushed and swollen lips parted–his little angel. He yanked you toward him, his mouth crushing against yours as his tongue forced its way past your lips, savoring his own taste. 

“Mmph, Yunho please,” you gasped between kisses, “I need it,” you begged, squeezing your thighs together to relieve the ache you felt between them. 

“I thought you were going to make it up to me, but I guess I can’t help it when you look like a fucking angel.” 

His grip on your arm was firm, as he hauled you upward with almost no effort. He guided you on to his lap, his angry cockhead teasing your folds as you straddled his hips. You bit back a whimper, grinding against his dick, giving you the relief you so desperately needed. 

“What do you need? Use your words, darling.”

“Need to be fucked, need you in me,” you whined, reaching between your to line his cock against your cunt but he stopped, grabbing a hold of your wrist. 

“You want me to fuck you right after you had another man in you?”

“You know there is no one else. Please, please just fuck me, please! I'm begging you, I'm yours, only yours. Only ever yours. Always!”

Yunho hoisted you up by the hips and sheathed himself inside of you, his tip kissing against your most sensitive spot. You reveled in the way the curve of his dick caressed your walls, writhing yourself against him, desperate to fuck yourself up and down his length. 

“Hands behind your back.” 

You obeyed, bringing your hands behind your back as his hand wrapped firmly around your wrists, holding them in place, a reminder of who was in control. 

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered, rolling your hips against him. Yunho sucked his teeth, admiring the way you were so compliant for him, how you desperately wanted to please him–a sharp contrast from the calculated killer you had been moments before. 

Squelching sounds filled the room as you slid along his length before slamming back down, the sound spurring you on as he entered you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. You felt like you could cum at any moment as the pleasure was overwhelming but you didn’t want him to know how close you were. 

“I know you’re close, angel,” he taunted against your nipple, gazing up at you with hooded eyes. “Let go for mmph–”

You leaned forward, stuffing Yunho’s mouth with one of your tits, revenge for forcing you to keep your hands behind your back. He groaned, tongue lapping against your nipple as your arousal seeped from your core down, pooling around in a milky white ring around the base of his cock. 

Yunho was growing impatient with you and slid his hand up, his fingers curling around your throat with a slight squeeze that had you spiraling into a haze of delirium. That was all it took for your cunt to spasm as your release finally came. 

"That's my angel," he cooed, relaxing the grip on your wrists and letting his hand slide behind your back. He cupped the back of your head, pulling you toward him, his dark gaze still holding you captive. Despite the haziness, you fought to meet his stare, feeling every ounce of your control slip further away.

You couldn’t help but notice the flush on his cheeks, the way his bangs clung to his forehead, and the tension in the muscles of his arms and torso.

He looked breathtaking like this.

You could tell he was close, breathing heavily and moaning against your skin before a deep shudder rolled through him. You watched with delight as his eyes fluttered shut, his head tipping back in pleasure as he stuffed you full with his seed. 

"Can I still keep the fur coat?" you asked, glancing up at Yunho with wide, pleading eyes. 

“No.”

⊹

“I think I might retire from hunting. Burning is much more efficient. Fun, even.”

“Fun?” he echoed, arching a brow as his dark eyes fixed on you. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his gaze studying your face like you were the only thing worth noticing amidst the chaos.

You held Yunho’s hand, your fingers intertwined with his, swinging idly as the two of you strolled away from the estate. Taking one last drag, he tossed the cigar, letting it tumble to the ground before igniting the trail of gasoline. A sudden rush of flames raced toward the manor, hungrily consuming the line of accelerant until it disappeared into the heart of the ballroom.

The pungent smell of smoke filled the air as you and Yunho made your way down the winding path from the Choi estate. Screams pierced the night as flames erupted within, and guests fled the grounds in a chaotic swarm, their tailored suits and gowns streaked with soot and ash as they stumbled across the manicured lawns.

You could feel the faint tremble of excitement in Yunho’s grip, the subtle way his thumb traced small circles against your knuckles.

“I mean, look at this,” you gestured at the inferno behind you as another section of the manor’s roof caved in. “There’s no need to clean up, no loose ends, and it’s efficient.”

Yunho’s eyes flicked back to the blaze, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something almost reverent in his expression. The heat, the destruction—it spoke to something deep within him, a hunger he tried to keep buried but could never fully ignore. He inhaled deeply, the scent of smoke filling his lungs, and his lips curved into a slow, almost dreamy smile.

“There’s instant satisfaction in destruction. I won’t have to feel bad about letting potential dolls go to waste,” you sighed, your tone carrying a faint edge. You were still a bit bitter about having to dispose of San. A pity, really.

But the things you do for love.

Yunho laughter rumbled through his chest as he pulled you closer.  “Looks like I’ve created a monster,” he mused, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Behind you, the inferno raged on, the deep groans of the collapsing manor blending with the desperate cries of those escaping. But you both kept moving, the blaze fading into the distance as the night swallowed you whole.

[tallulah477]

Birthday Gift

Kinkmas Day 2: Titty Fucking

Pairing: Prince!Human!Neteyam x Maid!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Tit fucking, Slight dirty talk, Slight possessive/obsessive behavior and language, Cumming on chest/tits

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Dedicated to @tsewtx for creating this fantastic AU. Love you, Wren! Catch up on Royalty AU here!

Summary: (Royalty AU) Prince Neteyam receives a lot of fine gifts for his birthday, but the only thing he really wants is you on your knees and your perfect tits around his cock.

Prince Neteyam always receives many gifts for his birthday.

He is recipient to the finest jewelry, made from precious metals and adorned with a multitude of diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Amongst the small mountains of gold and silver crafted pieces, hang other pieces of lavish clothing - soft, silk dress shirts in multiple colors, intricate waistcoats that look like they took a lifetime to create.

A new pair of leather riding boots that would look good on him, but that look amazing on you. 

“C’mon, y/n,” He mumbles, dark eyes glittering with desire as they trace along your standing figure. “Show me the new things I own,”

You stand in front of him, clad only in an unbuttoned emerald green silk shirt that falls halfway down your thighs and the leather boots that hug your legs until just below the knee, the little buckles on the sides clanking with each step you take as you walk uncertainty towards him, giving him a small twirl when he silently moves his pointer finger in a circle. 

He grins at your hesitance. So many years of doing this with him, being his good girl, his whore, the perfect little maid for his majesty - and you’re still so shy, like somehow you’re not 100% positive that he's completely and utterly obsessed with you. 

“You don’t have to be bashful,” He says, leaning forwards so he can rest his forearms on his thighs as he gazes at the expanse of soft skin on display, both between the gap of the shirt hem and boots as well as the tempting sliver of smooth, markable canvas shown between the open button down. “You know you’re the most beautiful woman alive.”

The flush on your face and the way you can’t meet his eyes make his cock even harder in his trousers. The hard length pushes at the tight material, threatening to burst the seams. Neteyam stands, eager to be closer to you, to touch you, and relieve some of the pressure. He crosses the room, tall figure towering over yours as he stares down at you, eyes filled with heat as he grips your jaw in his large hand, possessively. 

“You look so pretty in my clothing,” He murmurs, tilting your head up so your plump lips brush against his. 

“Thank you, your highness,” 

Neteyam’s lips are warm against yours as he kisses you, the soft press of his mouth against yours is enough to make your breathing stutter no matter how many times it’s happened before. His lips slide across your cheek, laying gentle kiss after gentle kiss along the heated skin as he makes his way to your ear. His breath is hot against the curve as he breathes, “Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me my present?”

You nod, voice struggling to manifest when he nibbles on the shell of your ear, and you’re just able to force out a squeaky, “Yes, highness,”

He kisses you again, this time a little harder, a little more needy. His free hand moves to brush the soft material of the shirt to the side, revealing one of your breasts to his hungry gaze and brushing his thumb over your hard nipple, before pulling back and biting his bottom lip with a wicked smirk. 

“Undress me then,”

His long fingers tease along the sensitive skin of your thigh as you work carefully on undoing the clasps of his shirt. Your delicate hands push the material off of his broad shoulders, revealing the toned expanse of his chest and your eyes can’t help the way they zero in on the excited rise and fall of his chest and the muscles that shift under his skin. The necklace around his neck shifts in time with his breaths, the small thin golden band he had made for you years ago threaded through the chain lays next to his heart - exactly where it should be, he tells you, until he’s able to put it on your finger officially. 

The metal glistens in the low light of the room, contrasting beautifully against his dark skin, but your eyes are pulled away from the sight when his hand cups your jaw again.

“Going a bit slow, aren’t we?” He chuckles, lips brushing against yours with each word. “You know it’s not fair to tease the birthday boy.”

His hands grip yours, warm palms dragging your own across the strong muscles of his chest and down the flat planes of his stomach until they reach the waistband of his pants. He keeps one of your hands there, and your fingertips gently caress the skin just above the fabric. He guides your other hand down further until you’re cupping his bulge, feeling the thick hardness in your hand.

“Feel how hard I am for you?” He murmurs, hand tightening around yours to make your fingers curl around him through the taut material. “Need you so much.”

“I’ll take good care of you,” You promise. 

Your hands expertly work at the fastenings on his trousers, his length jumping out and slapping against his belly, long and thick and beautiful in its glory. His cock is familiar to you - intimately familiar in the way that every part of your body knows the shape and size of it by memory. Every ridge, vein, and curve - engraved in your brain and heart.

He prefers to fuck you. Is obsessed with the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around his cock like a warm hug he never wants to be released from. He loves to feel the way your pussy clenches around his length, wants to feel your nails raking across his back as he ruts into you, hear your pretty mewls when he pounds your cervix before he floods your insides with his release.

He wants you on your back, or on your stomach, or on your side - it doesn’t matter. He wants you anyway he can have you, just as long as it’s you with him, crying his name as you cream all over his cock.

And he’ll get that. Soon. But for now, he wants this. 

He kicks his pants off, suddenly impatient as he stares down at you. He pulls you towards him, catching you off guard with the force of his tug as he sits on the chaise at the foot of his bed, and you fall onto his lap with a shocked yelp.

“Teyam!” You gasp, and his nickname falls from your lips without you even catching it. 

“Be a good girl and give me what I want, okay?” He grunts, ripping the silk shirt from your body and leaving you entirely bare to his hungry gaze, save for the boots still hugging your legs. “On your knees. Now.”

You rush to comply - the firm, authoritative timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine as you slide off of his lap and onto the floor. Neteyam leans back against his bed, the weight of his body supported on his forearms as his upper half lounges against the soft covers. His thighs are spread wide to accommodate your position between them and his cock pulses at the view.

It’s not a new sight, but it’s still his favorite sight.

You on your knees, staring up at him with those eyes, batting your long lashes at him with a combined look of shy maiden and sex vixen that makes him want to slide his hand in your hair and push your face into the ground so he can bury himself inside you from behind until the sounds you're making match the expression on your face. But no - he has a plan. He made you promise to give him whatever he wanted for his birthday, and he wants this.

“Come on, y/n,” He says, and he’s trying to be calm, trying to stay the golden, level headed prince that he should be, but even he can hear the whine in his voice. “Put them on me. Want to feel them,”

His breath feels like it's stuck in his lungs when you kneel up, hands cupping the sides of your chest as you lean closer and closer to his throbbing erection. His shirt and boots are not the only thing he’s put you in tonight. The fine jewelry of intricately made necklaces and rings he’s received throughout the day also adorn your perfect body. Three very expensive necklaces of varying lengths hang from your delicate neck, the regal blue stone on the longest one hanging beautifully just above the valley of your breasts. 

The feel of your tits enveloping his length has him reeling, the soft pillowy mounds molding around his cock like they were made to cradle him between them. Your hands hold your breasts together tightly around him, the rings on your fingers shining in the light are a variety of mixed metals and glittering jewels, and he decides then and there that he never wants to wear them himself. He only ever wants to see the beautiful jewels on you. 

It’s good, so good - the feel of your breasts massaging his heated length. But he needs more. 

“Spit on it,” He groans, and it’s taking all he has to not just fuck up into the tight space. There’s already a wet line along the opening of the valley from his precum and he’s obsessed with the way your wet skin glistens in the low light of the room. “Spit on it, y/n. Get it all wet and slippery so I can fuck them.”

The sound that rips out of his throat when you do is almost a whimper. His cock twitches when you let the glob of saliva fall from your tongue and onto the flushed tip, the spit coating the head and running down the sides and into the warm and newly wet embrace of your breasts. 

You do it again, adding more wetness to the mix to help with the slide as you glide yourself up and down his shaft. Neteyam lets out a punched out moan, hands balling into fists next to him as his head tilts back in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed for just a second before his head snaps back up, intent on not missing a second of the breathtaking image in front of him. 

Your nipples are just peeking out from the cage of your fingers, two hard buds pointed tantalizingly between your pointer and middle fingers and he mourns the fact that he can’t both fuck your tits and suck on your nipples at the same time. His hips kick up, abs flexing as he rocks into the tight space, and the tip of his cock nudges the blue gem of the necklace with each thrust. 

“So good for me,” He moans, reaching out to run his thumb along your bottom lip. He lets out a shuddering breath when your tongue comes out to swipe against the pad of his thumb. “Yeah, do that. Put your tongue to good use,”

Neteyam’s eyes roll back into his head at the first feel of your tongue on his swollen tip. He rocks faster, hips now completely off the chaise as he fucks your tits with vigor, your tongue lolling out to lap against the head every time it reappears back through the cradle of your breasts. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” He grunts. “So perfect for me.” 

The sensation of his cock tapping against the wet muscle is driving him wild, and he can’t help but watch in wicked satisfaction as your own eyes hood in pleasure at the taste of his precum coating your tongue. He knows you, knows you better than anyone else ever will or ever could. He knows that if he were to sink his fingers between your thighs, you would be dripping for him. 

“You were made for me,” He breathes. He can feel his stomach tightening as his orgasm barrels closer and closer. “Made just for me. Mine. My good girl, my whore.”

You hum in agreement, nodding enthusiastically as your responding moan vibrates through your tongue and against his cock. But it’s not enough. He needs the words - needs to hear them confirmed in your sweet, soft voice. 

“Say it,” He demands. His mind is reeling, desperately trying to decide where he wants to cum. He wants to mark you everywhere - wants to cum on your pretty tits, paint them white with his release and watch as it drips down your gorgeous body. He wants to cum on your face, marking your beautiful features as his just so he can have an excuse to take you to the large tub across the room and wash your entire body clean, only to dirty you up again before you’ve even stepped out of it. He wants to lace his fingers in your hair and drag your head down, sheathing his cock in the warm embrace of your throat and mark you from the inside - it would be less messy, and you wouldn’t be able to wash it off afterwards. “Say it, y/n,”

“I’m yours,” You whisper, thighs unconsciously trying to rub together as you desperately try to keep up your pace and the pressure of your chest against his length. “Your whore,”

“F-fuck!” Neteyam whimpers. “Fuck, fuck,”

In the end, he chooses your tits. He stands abruptly, nudging you back slightly so he can stand properly in front of you and finishes himself off, fisting himself furiously as you gaze up at him with those innocent eyes of yours that just make him want to wreck you even more. He cums with a guttural groan, ropes of white shooting from his swollen tip and landing directly on your heaving breasts.

You look stunning - like a beautiful, fucked out goddess brought to Earth just for him to have and cherish. His cock twitches in interest as he continues to stare at you, and your hooded eyes look up at your Prince in awe.

If you thought you were getting any kind of a break, you were wrong.

**Special thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx @skywonder @neteyamswillow

[lipglossanon]

Day 23

Kink: Edging

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x witch!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, edging, AU - heavily inspired by Young Goodman Brown lol, cnc, handjob, teasing, slight dirty talk, slight voyeruism

not proofread

He never should have followed Goody Brown into the forest. There had been talk of witches at the ale house and after being plied with too much drink, he stumbled out into the night. He caught a glimpse of the blacksmith’s wife slipping off into the trees out past the edge of town and began to follow. 

A cold wind blows—the rattle of dead branches sounding like bones being jostled in a coffin. Leon pulls his frail coat tighter to his body and pushes forward, keeping to the path cutting through the forest. He hears sounds in the distance and catches whiffs of smoke. 

Finally, a gleam of firelight tempts him off the path and deeper into the trees. He sees Goody Brown slip between the bark and follows after, not prepared for the scene he stumbles upon. 

Dozens of people from the town are here; Leon’s shocked eyes bounce from one to the next. 

“Welcome to our Sabbath,” a voice speaks from behind and he turns. 

He’s never laid eyes on you before, a nymph in modest clothing. 

“Sabbath?” He repeats, brows pinching. 

You grin and his heart races with nerves. 

“Yes, come pr’thee hence,” you lead him over to a chair at the edge of the makeshift circle. 

Settling into the seat, he feels a lethargy like never before. A wooden bowl at his feet gleams in the firelight, eyes dazedly jumping around, catching sight of the other townspeople. Goody Redfield lay with Goody Valentine while Goodman Wesker watches. 

“This is devilry,” he gasps out, unable to move from the chair you pressed him into. 

“Mayhaps, but tis pleasurable nonetheless,” you smile, a sharp curve of your lips, as you undo his trousers. 

“Thou must enjoy the sights of devilry,” you mock, pulling his half hard cock free from its confines.

His muscles feel weak and he’s unable to stop the groan from slipping out when you grip his stiffening length. 

“Stop this madness, witch,” he bites out, body shaking under your touch. 

“Goodman Kennedy,” you click your tongue, moving to kneel beside him. “Thou sought us out wen’st thou followed Goody Brown.”

His cock throbs in your hand as you stroke him once, the skin slipping back to show off his drippy tip. Before he can voice another complaint, you form a tight tunnel with your fist and begin to raise your hand up slowly. Once only the head is being squeezed by your wicked fingers, do you slowly move back down his cock. 

You keep this maddening pace until Leon’s whimpering and begging, hot shame pushing his lust higher and him closer and closer to climax.  

“Worry not, Goodman Kennedy,” you murmur in his ear. “Tis only your seed we ask of you, not thy soul.” 

He groans, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, tasting the smoky air of wood burning and incense. His eyes flick down to watch your hand grip his cock, fingers cold against the blood hot skin. Wasting no time, you pick up the pace again, thumb brushing his slit to smear what’s dripping across his sensitive head. 

You stop right before he’s able to climax and he keens, thighs shaking and tears gathering in his lashes. 

“Aww,” you coo, falsely sweet. “Tis no fun if it happens too soon, Goodman Kennedy.”

His balls ache from being made to stop so suddenly, your devilish fingers teasing his swollen sac and making him whimper. 

“So heavy,” the serpent’s tongue in his ear does nothing to quell his lust. “Doth thou wish to gift me with thy spend? Twould ease that awful ache in thy body.”

Shuddering, Leon bucks his hips into your hand. 

“Pr’y thee may have it. I only wish to end my misery,” he moans.

“What a misery it is,” you laugh, high and mocking. “Well met, Goodman Kennedy, I shall rid thee of thy burden.”

All the air leaves Leon when you grip his cock more firmly, hand working over him in quick, rough strokes. His tip weeps pearlescent seed, balls drawing up tightly when you spit on his dick. 

“To help thee,” your wicked laugh sends chills racing down his spine. 

“I’m—“

“Good boy,” you purr, jerking him faster. 

His back bows, legs stiffening as he spills all over your hand and into the bowl on the ground. You say something but it’s lost to him, focused only on the euphoria blazing through his body. Your hand keeps pumping his throbbing cock and more and more of his seed spurts from his tip into the wooden bowl. 

When he’s unable to give you anymore, you remove your hand and bring it to your mouth. He watches with tired eyes as you lap up the seed marking your skin. 

“Many thanks, Goodman Kennedy,” you grab the bowl and stand. “You may join the others if thou wish. Or leave. It matters not to myself.”

“What are you—“

You tap his nose with your clean hand, “Ah, that would be telling. Run home, Goodman Kennedy. It seems thou wouldst not wish to stay after midnight.”

Leon shakily rises from his seat and stumbles away from the fire, from the debauchery happening mere feet away. He collapses upon his bedding once he finally makes it to his abode. Your laughter and touch stain his body long after the night is through. 

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖: 𝕄𝕚𝕣𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕊𝕖𝕩

🥀Pairing: Grim Reaper! Hongjoong x Old Maid! Reader

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: urban legend au, bloody mary au, grim reaper au, 19th century au, historic au, supernatural au

🥀Trope: strangers to lovers

🥀Summary: When you chant Bloody Mary in the mirror to get a glimpse of your future husband, you see the Grim Reaper instead, but those aren't mutually exclusive

🥀Kinks: Mirror sex, foreplay, penetrative sex with no barrier, anal (f), back shot (hongjoong is a gentleman and doesn't overstim you)

🥀Word Count: 1,875

🥀Betas: @mejuii

🥀Day Two: Cheating/Creampie🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀 Day Four: Public Sex

“Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” You chanted into the mirror.

You wished to see the face of your future husband but you weren’t willing to go up stairs backwards--you’d most likely break your neck--so you were doing it in your mother’s dressing room. It had a long mirror and was perfect to chant Bloody Mary’s name. Your friend said you were tempting death but you’d rather know if you were going to die before finding a husband. You were tired of being called an old maid.

After your fourteenth Bloody Mary, you raised your candlestick and peered into the mirror. All you saw was yourself and a disappointed look appeared on your face. Of course that stupid urban myth wasn’t true and anyone that said they actually saw their future husband was lying, clearly--

“Hello, Lovely.”

You screamed bloody murder and dropped your candlestick, putting out the flame on the wick in the process.

“I’m still here,” A voice whispered into your ear and every hair on your body stood up.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “There’s no one here, it’s all in your head, there’s no one--”

Two pairs of hands squeezed your upper arms and you jumped. “Weren’t you looking for a husband?”

You swallowed, not sure that you were even entertaining the fact that this was actually happening. Perhaps this was all in your head. “I didn’t see anything in the mirror though,” You whispered into the darkness.

“No,” The voice said, now sounding like it was in front of you, “You saw the Grim Reaper.”

A small whimper escaped your throat and your knees gave out. You would have collapsed onto the floor but instead a strong pair of arms grabbed you and carefully led you into a sitting position. The candlestick you had brought in was suddenly lit and a handsome face glowed eerily from it.

“Don’t worry, Lovely,” The grim reaper assured you, leaning on his legs while looking down at you. “I’m not here to kill you.”

You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes. “But that means I’ll die before I find a husband.”

A sad smile bloomed on the Grim Reapers face. “That’s what they all assume, isn’t it?”

That caused you to pause. You wiped away your tears and sniffled. “What does that mean?”

“Do you ever think that perhaps you saw the Grim Reaper in the mirror because I am your future husband?”

“I…” You swallowed, not sure how to handle that. “I’m Death’s Mistress?”

The Grim Reaper chuckled. “You could just call yourself Mrs. Kim.” He offered you a hand up. “Or you could start by calling me Hongjoong.”

You took his hand and it did feel warm against yours. You stood up, still unsure of what was going on. “What happens now?”

Hongjoong didn’t let go of your hand but he did raise it so he could place a kiss against the back of your hand. A skull appeared there. “First, I mark you as mine.”

New tears came but they were from a place full of hope. “I’m yours?”

Hongjoong smiled again but this time it was more happy than sad. “Secondly, I show you just how happy I am to make you mine?"

You licked your lips. “Yes, please,” You said eagerly.

Hongjoong undressed you with the care of a gentleman. Each piece of clothing was folded neatly and each inch of newly revealed skin was kissed softly. Hongjoong allowed you the same permissions, watching your reactions as his body was bared for your desperate eyes. The two of you were acting as if the naked body in front of you was food for a starved person. And in a way for each of you who was starved for the affections of another, it was true.

Hongjoong brought you over to the mirror that had connected you two, and by the light of the single candlestick in the room, he showed you just how much he would adore you as his future-wife-to-be.

With his head over your shoulder, Hongjoong admired your body in the reflection of the mirror. He murmured into your ear how soft your skin was to his waiting hands. His hands traveled over your shoulders, cupped your breasts, moved down the plain of your stomach and finally halted at your womanhood. After playing with your body, you were eager and pliant for him to show you what was waiting for you in your married life.

“Look at how your body reacts to mine,” Hongjoong purred, “Your nipples are pert, waiting for my mouth to close over them.” He spread your pussy lips and smirked at your wetness being reflected in the mirror. “Your cunt is wet and ready for me.”

You turned your head into your shoulder, embarrassed at how wet you were for this stranger who played with your body so well. Hongjoong wasn’t having that, however. He gently pushed your chin so that you had no option but to peer into his dark eyes in the mirror. “Don’t hide from me, Lovely. I want all of you.”

Hongjoong wet two of his fingers, dipping into your hole but not pushing into you, and then began to slowly circle your clit. You whimpered as the lust in your stomach curled even more. Your hips began to buck into his circling. “More,” You pleaded, not even aware of what exactly that more was.

You could, however, feel Hongjoong’s length behind you. He had been slowly rubbing himself between the cheeks of your buttocks. He wasn’t looking for anything other than some brief relief against his throbbing cock but he did groan when you asked for more.

“I can’t, I can’t,” Hongjoong responded. He dug his teeth into your shoulder in an attempt to ground his desire to take you as his wife right here and right now.

“Why?!” You cried out. “This feels so good.”

“We must be wed, Lovely,” Hongjoong insisted. “You are marked as mine but I cannot claim you until it’s official, those are the rules.”

You boldly locked gazes with Hongjoong, hungry for more pleasure from him. “Then why did you tempt me only to take it away?”

Hongjoong growled. “I didn’t mean to take it this far, I only wished to show you some simple pleasure!”

You wound your arms behind Hongjoong’s head, drawing his hungry gaze to your breasts. You pulled his head to yours and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you, his tongue flirting with yours before he moaned into your mouth. “I thought I was the one tempting you,” He groaned, pulling away.

“I…I can find a loophole but it will be difficult,” Hongjoong pleaded with his eyes.

“I want it,” You said quickly.

Hongjoong’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. “You really were made for me, weren’t you?”

Hongjoong pushed his cock between your thighs, rubbing the length of his cock against your wet folds. You whined as you received more attention to your clit but none of the penetration that you were looking for.

“Patience,” Hongjoong urged you.

“I’ve had enough patience waiting for you,” You growled back, “I had to resort to calling for you in a cursed mirror!”

Hongjoong chuckled and then groaned when your lower lips clenched around nothing but whispered against his cock. “Soon, soon,” He promised, “I’ll show you a different kind of pleasure.”

Hongjoong pulled his cock from between your thighs and then pushed you forward. You were mere inches away from the full length mirror, making you blink, not understanding. Hongjoong put each one of your hands against the edge of the mirror, encouraging you to cling to it. “You’re going to need to hold onto something,” He instructed.

“Hongjoong!” You squeaked in worry as you felt his wet cockhead pushing against your puckered hole.

He raised an eyebrow in question in the mirror. “You can say no. I will leave you and return upon the day of our wedding. I will wait for you until then.”

You pouted, stomping your foot. “No. I want what you are offering. I just… is it truly pleasurable?”

“Do you trust me?”

You looked into the eyes of the Grim Reaper. They were honest and genuine. Something about this stranger told your entire body that he had your best interests at heart. So you said, “Yes.”

You did indeed need both those hands around the mirror’s edge as Hongjoong fucked your puckered hole. And while he pushed in and out of your other hole, he played with your clit still, giving you immeasurable pleasure. You moaned and you felt his other hand slip around your neck. It wasn’t threatening, simply a way to show he was here.

“Look, Lovely, look at how happy you are,” Hongjoong commanded softly.

You looked at yourself and you didn’t recognize the woman there. Your hair was clinging to your hairline. Your lips were parted sensually to breath and whine. Your body was shining with the sweat from the fucking. Your breasts swayed at each thrust of Hongjoong behind you. You glowed with an inner happiness that must only come from being adored and pleasured and given exactly what you wanted.

“Cum for me, Lovely.” Hongjoong’s hand became more firm, forefinger and thumb pressing against your jaw, not wanting you to look away as he brought you to your climax.

His hungry eyes ate up everything you offered. Your forehead furrowed as you choked out a long moan when your climax hit you. Your breasts jolted as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your noises were music to his ears but it was the happy satisfaction on your face that truly made his heart beat… for you.

Hongjoong pulled out and gently pumped his cock with his hands. You didn’t see but rather felt his seed spurt on your backside. He grinned, tongue curling around his upper lip, as if he just won a prize.

He kissed your shoulder in thanks. “I wanted to show you pleasure, not push you over the edge,” was his explanation for finishing outside of you.

You pouted, like a child whose favorite toy had just been taken away. “But Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong let out a chuckle, a manly one that spoke of how aware he was that you were desperate to receive everything from him. “There will be a next time, Lovely.”

You turned in the mirror and he took you in his arms. The light from the candlestick painted his features in yellows that flickered over his handsome features. “Don’t leave me. Take me with you.”

His eyes were serious and his mouth opened to only utter the truth. “You are with me forevermore, my love. I am yours and you are mine.”

You wrinkled your nose at the awareness that you were naked, sweaty and now cold that the serotonin faded. “Perhaps we should get dressed first.”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkled in merriment. “You don’t want to welcome the deadlands the way you were brought into this world?”

You gasped and slapped Hongjoong’s ample chest. “How dare you, sir.”

Hongjoong laughed, tipping his head back with heartiness, and you discovered that you wished to spend the rest of your life making him laugh exactly like that.

🥀Day Two: Cheating/Creampie 🥀 Mini Masterlist 🥀 Day Four: Public Sex

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 39 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

39. pool time  

You float in the pool, cooling off after a day of training. Not so much your body, as your head. 

John yelled at you earlier for not clearing a chamber jam fast enough for his liking–and you are tired of all of this. 

Mariko continues to kick the shit out of you every other day–but you are learning a lot, so you take it. Just when you think you might be earning her begrudging respect–she finds some new way to put you in your place–and on your face.

John drills you at the range and on the speed course, and you didn’t think you were doing too bad, until about an hour ago. But the slide stuck and the spring was tight and the checkered metal hurt your sore fingers and the guns are heavy…you’re over it.

You don’t even want to go to Argentina anymore. You just want to go home. 

The only one in the pool, you swim back and forth aimlessly, underwater and above, changing your strokes every few passes then floating again. 

This situation is wearing on John too. If they don’t show soon…you don’t know what he’s going to do. Something that will probably mean leaving you here, in safety, while he goes off to do what he does. 

Which according to Winston, is starting fires in the Underworld he doesn’t quite know how to put out, without killing everyone. 

The thought of him going on another rampage terrifies you. 

You sense the shadow of someone standing over you at the side of the pool. Expecting John, you right yourself in the water, looking up.

“I did not know the New York Continental boasted its own mermaid.”

So. Not. John.

You immediately sink again in the water, peering up at the newcomer with narrowed eyes. You’re not sure which clue put you on edge immediately: the wolfish way he looks down at you, his elegant yet flashy manner of dress–or his Italian accent. 

You say nothing in return, your heart in your throat. Somehow, you just know. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. Dante D’Antonio.” He squats down at the side of the pool, paying you a cruel little smile. A lock of his dark, curly hair falls down over his forehead; he’s handsome, but there is something missing in his hazel-green eyes as he stares you down. You’ll admit it. He scares the shit out of you. 

“Your fiancé killed my mother.” 

“Prepare to die?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I thought we were quoting The Princess Bride here.”

“What?” 

“It’s good that you’ve come, signor D’Antonio,” you say more carefully, kicking yourself for being a smartass in this world where everyone spoke carefully and in metaphor, because crossing the wrong person could literally mean losing your head. “My fiancé has been getting impatient.” 

“It was never his strong suit, so I’ve heard.” 

“And yet, you harass him. There are a lot of dead people who would tell you that’s not a smart move.” 

He waves you off with a flourish of his wrist. You are so tempted to splash him. “John Wick is an old man whose time has passed. It is a shame, he would involve a pretty little innocent like you in the crossfire.”

You glare at this man, sinking up to your nose in the water. What is he doing here, talking to you?

“D’Antonio.” 

John’s low voice draws you like a beacon. He stands at the other end of the pool, a dark pillar of death. The air positively crackles with tension, and then it dawns on you that this is d’Antonio’s purpose. Rile John Wick to the point of doing violence on Continental grounds, and make him sign his own death warrant.

Again.

You might have missed it once, but now you can see the bulge under John’s expertly tailored suit jacket. You know he’s wearing a loaded Glock on his hip, and that he could end this troublesome young man in about 1.5 seconds.

That would just be the beginning of your troubles. 

You remember what Winston cautioned you, about what John might do to a perceived threat of you. Fuck. 

“John…” you caution, swimming quickly for the ladder that is conveniently situated between the two men, intending to put yourself between them. Dread floods your system, as you fear you’ll be too late.  “Save it for the parlay,” you beg between strokes. 

If Dante d’Antonio was here, surely the others were on their way? It would be madness, otherwise, for the boy to show his face to John Wick?

“Yes, John. Don’t do anything rash,” taunts Dante with a smarmy grin, one hand stuffed casually in his waistcoat pocket.  

It all happens so fast. 

John rushes the kid, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. 

Dante balks, clearly not having thought through his life choices, facing down the John Wick with no bodyguards and no weapon to his name. 

You don’t think John actually touches the young man, but Dante manages to stumble over his own Gucci-clad feet in his panic–into the pool, in that beautiful silk suit. 

You watch this transpire open mouthed, half-hoisted up on the ladder. 

John’s iron grip on your arm pulls you out the rest of the way from the pool, snatching your towel from a chair as the two of you power-walk out, draping your dripping form with the soft terry cloth as Dante d’Antonio hurls angry Italian expletives after your retreating forms. 

“Are you going to get into trouble for that?” you hiss, your teeth chattering from the temperature change and the adrenaline. 

“I didn’t even touch him,” defends John, bundling you into the elevator. “What a little bitch.”

You snort at that. You are weightless for a moment, as the elevator rises. 

“Go to the room,” John orders you at the fifth floor. 

“Where are you going?” You try not to sound like a scared little girl, certain you fail. You’re not mad anymore. Just anxious, and you realize, a bit excited. Finally, something is happening.

“To talk to Winston.” 

Of course. 

“Hurry back to me?” 

He presses his lips to yours, then gently nudges you towards the hall. “Always.”

[petitelepus]

The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 4

Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader

Summary: You manage to find yourself and your Demons a new home and go shopping for stuff.

Warnings: None

A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave, Karaku, Sekido, Urogi, Aizetsu

Tags: @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

After a good night's rest and a healthy breakfast, you called a van for you, Hantengu, and his 4 clones with tinted windows so the sun wouldn't burn them. Sadly, due to the law, you had to put collars you had bought the day before around Sekido's, Karaku's, Aizetsu's, and Urogi's necks.

"These collars are humiliating!" Sekido growled from the back seat and you silently cursed in your mind. Bratty Demons usually got beaten to submission, but you didn't want any of that to happen to any of your Demons.

"You have a mouthy Demon there, little miss!" The driver said and you were almost tempted to tell him to mind his own business, but instead, you just laughed a little, "Ha ha, yeah…"

"Want me to help you with it?" The driver asked and you almost choked on air, "Excuse me?"

"I can beat some sense into it if you like and I only charge you 50 bucks for it!"

Were you hearing right? This man wanted to beat your Demon so he would quiet down and he expected you to pay for it!? How cruel could someone be? Then again, you remembered that your wicked family was in no way different.

Sekido and the other clones must have heard the driver's offer because they were all quiet in fear of being beaten by the burly driver. You scowled as you looked at the driver, "Thank you, but no thank you."

"Okay, I will do it for free!" The man tried and you shook your head, "No."

"Fine, I pay you!"

"I'm seriously not interested." You were starting to lose your patience with this idiotic driver. He was about to say something but before he could, you snapped, "One more word and I will give you a review so awful you will never drive in this city again!"

That made the man shut up and you were pretty pleased with yourself for the rest of the drive. Finally, you made it to the house you were supposed to see and you thanked the Gods that it was a cloudy day so the sun wouldn't burn the Demons.

"That would be-!" The driver started, but you didn't let him finish.

"Don't bother waiting." You said as you slapped some money on his palm and got out of the car, the Demons following behind you and you were all awed by what you saw.

The house was absolutely gorgeous looking and there was an enormous backyard that looked more like a fucking meadow.

"Ooh, look at all this space!" Urogi laughed as he looked around, excitement clear on his face, "So much space for me to spread my wings!"

"It does look amazing." You nodded as you guys walked towards the front door. You raised your fist, ready to knock, but before you could do so, the door was opened and a small woman with huge glasses greeted you.

"Oh, you must be the buyers I was waiting for!" She smiled and you blinked, "Uh, sorry, we were told to come here by 11am?"

"Oh, that Randal must have given me the wrong time, AGAIN." The lady chuckled, "I'm Hortensia and- Oh? Who are these handsome young men?"

"Oh, uh," You looked at the Demons over your shoulder and then smiled at the lady, "They are my Demons. This place does allow Demons, right?"

"Honey, this place and all the land are yours if we can agree on a deal." Hortensia smiled, "Now come on in before the sun comes out! We don't want you young men to ruin your handsome faces!"

You were a little stunned but this lady's acceptance towards Demons, but you were welcoming the change to usual harassment. You and the clones entered the house and you were taken aback by how amazing the whole place looked. Huge and spacious and the furniture was just as gorgeous.

"Does the furniture come with the house?" You asked and Hortensia smiled, "They do! Of course, you are going to have to bring your own electronics such as a TV or two, but the house comes with furniture. The owners want to get rid of this place as soon as possible."

"Why?" You asked, honestly confused why someone would want to do so to a house this gorgeous, and the woman smiled, "Nasty divorce."

"Aah," You nodded, suddenly understanding. As you guys explored the house, you found out that the kitchen was big and connected to a spacious dining room. You could see yourself and the Demons eating there together.

The open living room was huge and so were the windows, letting in as much light as possible… Which wasn't so good for Hantengu or his clones.

"These windows, uh…" You started carefully.

"The windows are huge, yes, but it's nothing that proper curtains won't fix." Hortensia smiled, "The whole place was renovated by the sellers to fit their modern taste."

"I see." You nodded as you glanced at the Demons who were following behind you, "What do you guys think?"

"It needs curtains…" Sekido nodded and you had never seen him so calm yet, "But it's sufficient."

"It's wicked!" Karaku laughed and Urogi joined him, "And awesome!"

"I could see us living here." Aizetsu thought quietly and you smiled and looked at the real estate agent.

"Honestly, this place looks amazing." You said and the woman smiled as she showed you guys around the house, "There are 5 bedrooms and a home office but if you want you can change it into a guest room with the convertible sofa in there. There are 4 bathrooms, 2 here downstairs and the other 2 on the second floor."

"Wow," You smiled but just as you were thinking that the place couldn't get any better, Hortensia smiled, "I also have no doubt in my mind that you are going to love the basement."

"Why is that?" You asked and she smiled as she motioned you to follow her, "Come come and you will see!"

You and the clones followed the old woman down to the basement and what you saw made you and the Demons gasp out loud. There was an absolutely amazing-looking indoor pool, but it wasn't actually a pool but a bath instead?

"What is this…?"

"You like it, right? The owners used to travel around the world and they fell in love with Japan's hot springs. Of course, they wanted almost exact replica so they built this indoor bath."

"It's amazing…!" You were in awe but then you noticed a glass door on the side and you got curious, "Where does that door lead?"

"Go ahead and take a look!" Hortensia smiled and you walked to the door and opened it to look inside.

"A wooden room?" You wondered out loud.

"That's a real authentic Finnish sauna! Like I said, the sellers loved to travel." The older real estate agent said cheerfully and you were honestly speechless. Just how amazing can a house get? Your old home, back with your horrible family was amazing, but you only felt safe and nice in your own room. This house felt so much like that safe room of yours.

"What do you think? Is this your new home?" The woman asked and you smiled as you looked at her, "When can we move in?"

Hortensia explained that as soon as the sellers got paid, the house and the land that comes with would belong to you. Not wanting to waste any time, you told her to contact the sellers and tell them that you were ready to pay and move in as fast as possible.

While your agent was calling the sellers, you were waiting for a new taxi van with a different driver to pick you and the Demons up and take you back to your hotel. You looked at your Demons and smiled, "So? How are you feeling about this place?"

The clones shared a quick glance with each other before nodding.

"It's far away from nasty humans…!" Sekido said and Aizetsu nodded, "Here we can be free."

"And I can fly as much as I like as long as the sun is out!" Urogi smiled and Karaku grinned, "Do we get our own rooms? That's wicked!"

"What about you Hantengu?" You asked as you pulled your shirt's collar down and looked down to see the small Demon who was trapped or resting between your breasts. It honestly depended on how you looked at it.

"I- I liked it…! N- no bullies here…! Just Mistress…!" The tiny Demon whimpered and you awed as you gently petted the bump on his head, "Aww, that makes me happy."

"I wish I could turn small," You heard Karaku comment behind you and Urogi laughed, "Yeah, that would make me happy also!"

"When the two of you need special care like Hantengu I'll make sure to give you some." You said and the two gleeful clones cackled as they high-fived each other. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at them, but you were still smiling.

Behavior like this would have earned you some glares back at your family, but now you and your Demons could be as free and silly as you liked to be.

Thanks to Hortensia, you were able to meet the sellers as quickly as was just possible. The couple looked like very normal people who used to be in love but were no longer. They were more than happy to sell the house and land to you and you were more than happy to move in as quickly as possible.

So couple of days later, it was time to say farewell to your hotel room that had served as your temporary home and you moved to the new house with the 5 Demons of yours.

"Freedom!" Urogi and Karaku both laughed as soon as they made it inside.

"Quiet down you two!" Sekido snapped, "You're being too loud!"

"Who cares?" Karaku laughed, "This is our place now!"

"Karaku is right Sekido," You said as you closed the front door behind you, "This is our place now so you guys can do whatever you want."

"Still…!"

"We are more than thankful for this humble home." Aizetsu said as he looked at you and you smiled, "I'm happy that you guys are happy."

You looked inside your shirt, and gently pulled Hantengu out to show him the huge living room area, "How do you like your new home Hantengu?"

"I- it's huge…!" He whimpered and you smiled a little as you walked to the huge dark couches and set the small Demon on the table between the soft furniture and your only possession, your computer.

You sighed, tired due to all the stuff that happened lately, but you still had so much to do. For example, your stomach was empty and so was your new fridge. You would have to buy food for yourself, meat for Demons, and at least curtains for the living room's huge windows to block out the sun…

But as you thought about what you needed, more and more things popped into your mind. Clothes, electronics, bed sheets, towels, and the list went on. You would no doubt also need a car so you could move all the stuff you would need to buy. That, and you wanted to be able to move easily with Hantengu and his clones and not rely on some unknown driver.

Good thing that you had a driver's license, so all you needed was to get a car. There was still plenty of money left from what your stepfather gave you so money shouldn't be a problem. You just needed a car big enough for 6 and space for groceries and other stuff.

"Guys, I need to go shopping in the city." You said and this caught the Demons' attention.

"You're leaving us alone?" Aizetsu asked and you remembered that no one really left their Demons alone in fear that they could escape or such. But these five weren't your slaves, but more like roommates.

So you told them that, "You are free to do as you please. I was thinking of buying us a television, but if you want, you can come shopping with me? While we are out there we could get you guys some stuff you would like in your own rooms?"

"I'm in!" Karaku jumped up from the couch faster than you had ever seen anyone move.

"Me too!" Urogi said, but you shook your head, "Urogi, you better stay here and watch the house. No offense, but you may attract a little too much attention right now."

"I'll stay with him." Sekido said, "It's better that someone sensible is here than just one knucklehead."

"If it's just alright, I would like to accompany you to the city?" Aizetsu asked, "I can help you carry stuff?"

"Okay, sounds good. But!" There was a huge but, "You need to put the collars on for the time we are out."

Karaku whined and you frowned, "I don't like it either but if you guys don't wear them then you could be taken away from me."

"P- please, don't leave me alone…!" Hantengu whimpered and awed as you gently petted the small Demon, "Sekido and Urogi will be here with you. I promise I will bring you something extra nice so wait for me here, okay?"

Hantengu looked like he wanted to cry, but instead, he nodded a little and you smiled as you ordered a taxi for you and the clones of sorrow and pleasure. While you waited, you fastened the collars around their necks, looking sorry and apologizing to them, "I'm sorry about these…"

"I know… But you're doing it because you care…" Aizetsu nodded as he frowned, "So I understand."

You smiled a little, "Thank you for understanding."

Finally, your ride arrived and you and the clones got on and headed towards the city. The first thing you did was to go and buy a new and spacious car for you and the Demons, but apparently, you couldn't just walk in there and buy the car you wanted.

No, they had to be ordered and delivered first. You were a little frustrated, but you couldn't do anything about it. You ended up ordering the biggest minivan there was and paid extra to have the windows tinted so the sun wouldn't burn your Demons. The nice salesman promised to have your car ready after a week and while you waited he rented you a huge delivery van you could use meanwhile.

With that done and over, you, Aizetsu, and Karaku headed to the shopping mall. As soon as you stepped inside, the Demons were in complete awe of everything, the lights, the number of people, and the stores.

"So many people…" Aizetsu muttered quietly and Karaku grinned, "So many!"

"Okay, you guys are about the same size as Sekido and Urogi, right?" You asked and the Demons nodded and you smiled, "Great, let's get you guys some clothes then."

The three of you headed to the clothing stores and time really passed when you were shopping. You were never a huge clothing shopping fan, but with your wardrobe shredded to pieces, you needed some new clothes as well.

Spring was on and Summer was just around the corner so you needed something light to wear. You could buy heavier and warmer clothes when Fall comes. You were rather happy with the bags of clothes you had gotten and even happier that you had two strong Demons who helped you to carry some of the bags.

"Okay, then we need-!"

"Ooh, Mistress, Mistress!" You heard Karaku call you and you stopped and turned to see what had caught the Demon's attention.

"What is it Karaku?" You asked and the Demon pointed at the store he had stopped in front of. You took a look and saw that it was a videogame store and a pretty big one also. There were even some kids trying out the games set for customers to try.

"What are those kids doing?" Karaku asked and you blinked, stunned that he didn't know what video games were, but then again, he was part of Hantengu and you doubted that the timid Demon had ever seen a game like that before.

"They are playing video games." You replied and Karaku repeated after you, "Video games?"

"We can get some if you would like?" You asked and that was when you remembered your destroyed Nintendo Switch that your awful stepsiblings had broken. You still had what was left of your console so you should be able to regain all your saved files.

Actually, you started to like the idea of having video games in your house. While it was daytime and you would be forced to stay inside to hide from the sun, you could play games together.

"You know what? Let's buy a couple of consoles and games." You smiled and Karaku was absolutely beaming in joy, "Alright!"

The three of you stepped into the stores and started to look around for interesting games and consoles. Knowing pretty much what to get, you grabbed a couple of Just Dance, Pokémon, Mario, and Sports games, and three newest Nintendo Switches. The salesman looked a little stunned by the Demons who followed your every step, but no man or woman ever says no to money.

Happy with your shopping, you and the Demons took the clothing bags and gaming things to your rental van, before heading back to the mall to continue shopping. You bought some pillows, blankets, curtains and sheets, cleaning supplies and once you had those bought, you went to buy something to fill your huge fridge with.

When you made it to the meat section in the store, you turned to ask Aizetsu and Karaku if they preferred their meat cooked or raw, but when you turned you saw them staring at the raw meat on the butcher's display. They must have been hungry and rightfully so, your last meal was at the hotel before you left.

"What are you guys looking at?" You asked as you walked next to them and they both looked at you.

"Lamb!"

"Beef." They replied in perfect unison and you couldn't help but smile a little as you turned to look at the butcher on the other side of the display, "Can we get some lamb and beef to go?"

"Of course, young miss!" The man nodded as he grabbed the meats on display and chopped them into fine pieces that he quickly wrapped in paper.

"Your Demons have a fine taste!" The butcher laughed as he handed you the meat over the display and you chuckled a little, "Thank you."

You noticed that Karaku and Aizetsu were staring at the meat packet and you smiled a little, "You can eat in the car once we leave."

The Demons nodded, both excited over the idea of food. You and they finished shopping quickly and once you had everything a human or Demon might need, you got into the van, removed the collars from Demons' necks, and drove out of the parking hall and towards your new home outside the city. While you were driving, Aizetsu and Karaku enjoyed some of the beef and lamb at the back.

"Leave something for Hantengu, Sekido, and Urogi!" You called and Karaku laughed, "They have their own meat!"

"But sharing is caring…" Aizetsu tried to say and you quickly added, "There is enough meat for all 5 of you! Now, tell me what did you like most at the mall?"

The three of you went through the things you had seen or bought and before you knew it, you were back at your new home and just in time as the sun settled. You parked the car and honked, accidentally startling poor Demon of sorrow, to which you quickly apologized.

Hearing the honk, Urogi, Sekido, and Hantengu on Sekido's shoulder came to inspect the noise and saw you guys with many, so many bags full of things you had bought.

"What is all this?" The Demon of anger asked as he took in all the bags at the back of the van and you smiled a little, "Clothes, food, stuff we might need."

"Ooh, did you bring anything for me?" Urogi asked excitedly.

"There is some prime meat for all of you. I'm going to put them in the fridge so they won't spoil while we get all the things in their places." You said as you grabbed heavy shopping bags and carried the bags filled with meat for Demons and food for you to the kitchen.

While you were gone, the Demons looked at each other.

"What did you find out?" Sekido asked and Aizetsu frowned, "She was very sweet and thoughtful… I think she is genuine."

"She bought us games and gave us delicious meat!" Karaku grinned and Urogi smiled excitedly, "Games?"

"Quiet!" Sekido snapped, "Are you two certain we can trust her?"

"Absolutely!" Karaku nodded and Aizetsu sighed, "I believe so also, so do we must test her so?"

"We can't be too careful…" Sekido glanced at Hantengu on his shoulder who whimpered as four sets of eyes bore into him, "I- I want to trust her, I really do…!"

"What are you guys talking about?"

The 5 Demons turned to see you standing by the house's entrance and you smiled, "Can you grab bags and bring them inside while I prepare some meat for you?"

"It would be our pleasure!" Karaku cackled and you smiled as you turned and headed back inside to prepare the Demons' meals.

"I think we can trust her, right?" Urogi thought out loud.

"Time will tell." Sekido nodded before looking at the bags in the van, "For starters, let's get everything inside. We are starving."

[avocado-writing]

"You're so very tempting..." - said Aziraphale to the xmass food lined up on the countertop

notes: anon how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person in my inbox at the moment

Crowley walks into your home, warm and welcoming as usual, but this time smelling pleasantly of Christmas spice. He also walks in to the sounds of enthusiastic muttering laced with… lust?

“You’re so very tempting…”

He raises an eyebrow to himself. Perhaps he is about to catch the two of you in the act. He quite enjoys that, actually - it feels sinful. Doubly so when you get him to join in. 

He opens the living room door and deflates a bit. 

Aziraphale’s head whips round from where he’s staring at the spread. Oh, right. You’re holding your work’s holiday buffet this year. The tables have been manoeuvred to the cosy front room and the food is laid out perfectly: vol-au-vents; canapés; every tiny finger food someone can think of. And Aziraphale is reaching towards it. 

He looks guilty. 

“Oh! Crowley, I didn’t realise you’d be —”

“Home so early?” he finishes, breezily. Aziraphale retracts his hand from where it’s been comically paused in midair. 

“Erm, yes. Lovely to see you my darling, I was just - ”

“Does our nightingale know you’re descending upon their hard work?”

Aziraphale tries to look offended. But mostly he looks like he’s been caught doing something he ought not to. 

“I just wanted one little crudité. One wouldn’t be missed…”

“Aziraphale. There is a sign.”

It’s true. You’ve left a large piece of paper blu-tacked above the table: AZIRAPHALE, DO NOT TOUCH. 

The angel sighs, utterly rumbled. 

“Oh alright. Just please… don’t dob me in?” he begs. Crowley hums thoughtfully. 

“Maybe you can convince me to keep quiet.”

Aziraphale gapes.

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“That’s a bit of a serious way to put it.”

“You’re my husband, Crowley!”

“Yes, so the ways of convincing I have in mind you’ll probably enjoy.”

Aziraphale shuts his mouth, thinks it over, and then lets Crowley have his wicked way. 

And when you get back from your emergency Prosecco run to the shops, you’re the one who ends up catching them. 

[veronicaphoenix]

fairy dust series ✨ au — part one: the wicked fairy | wc: 3.5k

— read the prelude here

pairing: faeoliver! x ivy (ofc) x kitsune!noah summary: oliver comes back ten years later to take 18-year-old ivy away tags & trigger warnings: age gap, mentioned body image issues, mentioned parents' neglect, implied school bullying, mentions of kidnapping, implied virginity of the main female character, descriptions of nudity and one single mention of oliver having an erection (no sexual content beyond that and ivy feeling something at the sight of oliver naked), oh, and also, oliver's dick glows ✨ that's it, i think 🤭 my works 🌙

The Wicked Fairy ೃ༄*ੈ

The clock ticks midnight. 

            It’s her birthday. She’s eighteen.

            She waits to feel something, to feel different, but everything remains the same as she sits on her bed with a pale-blue summer dress on. There’s a nervous tic on her leg and she’s biting her bottom lip as she waits for the thing—the creature—she’s been expecting since she was eight. 

            Outside, only the occasional bark of a distant dork and the howling wind break the silence. 

            She’s tempted to get up and open the window. Maybe he cannot enter if it’s closed. Perhaps—

            But then, she hears the bells.

            There’s a shift in the air. 

            Her heartbeat speeds up.

            When she turns her head, she spots a dark figure looming in the shadowed corner of the room. 

            He made a promise to her ten years ago, and he’s kept it.

            He’s here, in her room. 

            When he steps out of the darkness into the moonlit area of the room, she swallows hard. He is as tall as she remembers, as impressive and breathtaking as the first—and only—time she ever saw him. His eyes shine like emeralds, his smile wicked and dangerous. 

            She is the one who has changed. She is no longer an eight-year-old child. Her legs and arms have lengthened, her features have matured, her hair has grown longer. Her curves are now perfectly delineated, her body filled out gracefully. 

            She is more beautiful than he ever imagined, though she doesn’t believe it herself. 

            “Miss me?” he asks, the first words spoken as their eyes finally meet. 

            Yes, she wants to say, but her throat feels dry, making speech difficult at first. 

            She has missed him. It seems silly considering she only saw him for a brief five minutes, but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him—about his green eyes and the fox at his back—every year, every single day, since that moment in the woods. 

            She’s spent the last decade trying to find a way to call him, hoping he would find her and take her away. Desperation often clawed at her, days when tears flowed freely and the pain of her surroundings threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted him so badly that she dreamed of him, of the promise he made, of the things he said he would show her and make her feel. 

            She longed to feel something good.

            When years passed and she realized there was nothing she could do to summon him, after countless afternoons escaping to the woods and hours spent with her bare feet walking to the same spot where she had met him, she began to visit the library, began reading, researching, gathering all the information she could about beings like him. 

            What she discovered was far different from the images her bedtimes stories had painted. 

            Fairies were charming, sure, and they had that twinkling in their eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. But underneath that twinkling, there was a predatory instinct. Ivy had seen it, but at eight, she hadn’t been old enough to recognize it. Fairies had captivating smiles, but their teeth were sharp, needle-like. Their voices were melodic and sweet, yet carried a sinister, haunting whisper. And worst of all, their favorite pastime was luring innocent children with enchanting promises, only to whisk them away to a realm where time moved differently, and escape was nearly impossible. 

            Fairies, as Ivy learned over the years, were more than mere mortals yet less than gods; creatures of boundless magic and capricious wills; their hearts were as wild as the forests they inhabited; and they were driven by dark desires.           

            Ivy should have been scared, but the real world had shown her so much cruelty that, whenever she pictured the fairy in her mind or found him in her dreams, she longed to be taken to his world. No fear, no doubts. She was willing to leave her own world behind and trust whatever promises he made. It was a risk she was willing to take—a risk she had been waiting for a decade to take. 

            Oliver doesn’t expect a reply. He extends his arm toward her, offering his hand. 

            If she hesitates, it’s only for a moment. She remembers the things her classmates told her the day before, and in a second, her hand is in Oliver’s. His is large and his fingers are slender, which make her hand seem even smaller in his grasp. 

Fifteen minutes later, they stand at the edge of the forest. 

            It hasn’t been a long walk from her parents’ house, but the night is cold and she’s only wearing a thin dress. She rubs her arms for warmth as they quietly walk through the trees. Suddenly, Oliver stops, and she nearly collides with his wide back.

            Straight ahead, she can only see darkness. The moonlight has forsaken them, casting its glow on other parts of the forest. Insects hum unseen, and creatures scurry through the underbrush. The forest looks different from all the other times she’s been here, perhaps because she never came at night. 

            Doubt creeps in as she glances over her shoulder at the distant lights of the town.           

            “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Oliver says. 

            She turns to look at him. His eyes seem to shine even in the dark, and the grin is plastered on his face. 

            After all, he’s getting what he wanted, isn’t it? 

            He’s taking the girl with him, to his world. 

            Voices echo in her head: her mother’s disappointment, her father’s negligence, the mocking laughter of her classmates, the pitiful look of her teachers. She is ready to leave all that behind, but is she willing to leave everything else? 

            Her hesitation does not escape him. He senses her doubt, her emotions bubbling just beneath her skin. 

            His fingers trace a delicate line up her arm, from wrist to shoulder, drawing her focus back to him. 

            “Promise you’ll make everything better,” she whispers, her voice fragile. 

            Oliver huffs, almost amused.  

            “I can promise you that, but I know other ways to take that indecision away from you.”

            “Then, do it. Take it away.”

            Take me away. 

            His hands cradle her face, and before she can catch her breath, his lips claim hers. He kisses her hungrily, savoring her lips before teasing her sensitive skin. The fervor of the kiss makes her dizzy. She’s unaware of her own hands finding their way to the front of his black t-shirt, clutching it in fists. 

            The intensity of the kiss is unlike anything she had ever known. Oliver tastes like a promise, pouring his commitment into her with each press of his plump lips. His need for her is palpable. She understands then that whatever he felt for her that day in the woods has always been there; it has grown, deepened, become something undeniable, something he can’t live without. He’s not lying. The primal possessiveness in his eyes when he looks at her is genuine. He wants her. And he’s willing to do anything, give her anything, to keep her with him. Forever. 

            “Still doubtful?” Amusement laces his voice as he pulls away, his hands still holding her face. His tongue licks at his lower lip, and she is mesmerized by the way it catches the remnants of her own saliva. 

            Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, her eyes hypnotized by the way the tip of his tongue teases her. Whatever he’s done to her, it’s working. 

            She doesn’t want her old world anymore. 

            She wants new, different. She wants light and love, glitter and colors. 

            Maybe she’s bewitched, intoxicated, hallucinating. 

            She doesn’t care. 

            It feels too good. 

            She wants Oliver, the wicked fairy. 

            She takes a step forward, closing the distance between her and the fairy again. She rises onto her tiptoes and hangs herself from Oliver’s neck, pressing her chest to him as she arches into him. 

            “Lead the way. Now.”

            A wicked smile spreads across his face, fangs gleaming down at her.   

Crossing the darkness feels like a voyage through the deepest parts of a forgotten dream. Ivy clings to Oliver’s hand, her heart thrumming in her chest as her eyes try uselessly to adjust to the darkness. Shadows dance and twist, forming ethereal shapes that seem to guide their path. The darkness is different from the one she’s known; this darkness wraps around her like a velvety cloak, full of secrets and hidden wonders.

            Ivy steps out of the darkness, one step behind Oliver. 

            She feels warm.

            The world that opens up in front of her is bathed in a golden glow; everything shines with an ethereal light. As her head tilts up, glitter seems to fall from the sky like delicate rain, and iridescent butterflies fly about, their wings shimmering in the air. The scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth fills her lungs, a perfume so intoxicating she feels her very soul awaken. 

            Oliver watches her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he sees the wonder and awe in her eyes. All his suspicions are instantly cleared—this is where she belongs, here, with him. 

            With a gentle hand, he guides her along a winding path, here butterflies and other creatures she doesn’t recognize yet alight on her arms as if drawn to her innate magic. The bushes rustle with unseen creatures, their presence a silent welcome, while rays of sunlight filter through the towering trees. These ancient giants seem to bow their heads towards her, as though acknowledging her as their queen. 

            In less than ten minutes, Ivy feels a powerful current stirring within her. It’s as if the very essence of the forest is merging with her spirit, filling her with a sense of belonging and peace. She feels like she’s at home. 

            Oliver leads Ivy to an open space where a hidden oasis reveals itself in all its splendor. Before them lies a small, pristine lake, its waters so clear and vibrant they seem to capture the very essence of the sky. On their side of the lake, an area of golden sand forms a secret beach, inviting and warm. At the back, a majestic waterfall cascades down from a small mountain, hinting at a vast, magical kingdom beyond. The greenery around them is lush, saturated with life; birds sing melodious tunes from the branches above and every leaf and flower seems to shimmer with its own inner light. 

            Ivy slips off her sandals, abandoning them carelessly to the side. She steps into the golden sand, feeling its warmth envelop her feet, the grains shifting and moving through her toes. She can’t stop smiling, her heart swelling with joy. Slowly, she begins to turn, taking in the breathtaking beauty around her, absorbing every detail. 

            Lost in the moment, she doesn’t notice Oliver approaching from behind.

            His hands find her hips, halting her spin. His touch sends shivers down her spine, and his warmth, hot breath tickles her ear as he whispers, “I’ve waited an eternity for this. Welcome home, Ivy.” 

            She closes her eyes, the words wrapping around her like a warm blanket. In that instant, she knows she won’t regret what she’s done, leaving everything behind for an eternal promise. 

            Ivy begins to explore the oasis, her fingers brushing against the vibrant plants and flowers that seem to bloom just for her. She inhales deeply, the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle filling her senses. She marvels at the towering trees, their leaves shimmering in the light, and she strokes the soft fur of strange, beautiful rabbits that hop around her, welcoming her with gentle nudges.

            Lost in the wonder of her surroundings, Ivy turns and finds Oliver in the water, his clothes nowhere in sight. His hair clings to his forehead, droplets of water cascading down his tattooed skin, which seems to glow with an otherworldly light. He looks like a god, every inch of him exuding an ethereal allure.

            “Care to join me?” he asks cheekily from the distance, his voice carrying a playful lilt.

            Still too shy, Ivy shakes her head, opting instead to sit on the warm sand and watch him. Oliver swims with effortless grace, tilting his head back and using his hands to slick his hair away from his face. The sight of him stirs something deep within her, a warmth that begins in the pit of her stomach and spreads to a more intimate place.

            After a while, Oliver decides he’s had enough. He steps out of the water, and to Ivy’s shock, he is completely naked. 

            His entire body glows softly, but it is his erection that draws her gaze, radiating a mesmerizing light. She’s never seen a man naked before, much less a fairy god.

            She feels her breath catch, the scene before her both stunning and surreal. Oliver walks towards her with a serene confidence, the glowing of his cock mirrored in the brightness of his perfect smile.

            He’s acutely aware of what he’s doing to her, but as he approaches her spot on the sand, he makes no attempt to intimidate her further. He flops down beside her, letting his back sink into the warm grains, sending droplets of water her way. The cool spray feels refreshing, and she wonders if she should have joined him in the lake. Perhaps the situation would have been too enticing, too tempting for her to resist swimming to him, wrapping herself around him, and asking him to make her his, for eternity.

            With a deep breath, she lays down next to him. His eyes are closed, and he seems to be inhaling the peace and the sweet scent of nature. He is the most beautiful man she’s ever seen, and she takes in every detail of his profile, every mark on his face, every curve and sharp angle, every freckle that adorns his skin.

            “See something you like?” he suddenly asks, popping an eye open and tilting his head slightly towards her. There’s sand stuck in his hair, but he doesn’t care.

            “Yes,” she says bravely. “You.”

            Oliver smiles, his teeth gleaming. She just stares at him.

            “Why did you not take me away when I was eight?” she asks suddenly.

            Oliver frowns for a moment, then shifts to lay on his stomach, resting on his forearms. His back, butt, and legs are covered in a layer of sand.

            “Because then you would have stayed a child forever. I prefer you like this: a woman.” As he says this, his hand goes to Ivy’s shoulder, and he slowly, tentatively, slides down a strap of her blue dress. 

            She holds her breath. 

            He stops, looks up at her, and waits for a sign.

            She gives it to him.

            He undresses her, indicating for her to lift her arms, and he helps her out of her dress, taking it off, leaving her in her panties. He doesn’t touch her just yet, letting her get accustomed to her quasi-absolute nakedness. Her breasts are perky and pink, soft and inviting. A blush has crept up her cheeks, her hair falling in separate strands along her back and front. She is beautiful. Oliver wants to do nothing but adore her, with all his wickedness and the love he’s got for her. It doesn’t matter that he’s done bad things before. He will find redemption in her.

            Without an indication from him, she hooks her fingers in the hem of her panties and slides them off her legs. And then, she’s naked, lying next to him, uncomfortable in her own body, just the same sensation that has plagued her since her teenage years. The cruel human world had frequently reminded her of her imperfections—curves deemed too large, shapes that were ugly, and every other aspect of her body that seemed out of place according to others’ perceptions.

            She can’t take the intensity of Oliver’s green orbs that seem to tell her that she’s actually perfect, so she closes her eyes and waits. 

            She doesn’t have to wait for long.

            First, it’s a daisy, placed on her navel, then another bunch of flowers follow, all kinds of flowers that Oliver places all over her stomach and chest, covering her in a floral blanket. He also places some in her hair, smiling all the while, as if this is the most fun he’s had in a long time.

            When she feels calmer, more settled and comfortable, knowing that Oliver won’t touch her further than to adore her and worship her with flowers, she opens her eyes, falling in love with the green of his eyes a little bit more.

            “You’re so pretty,” she breathes out as he continues placing flowers; on her thighs this time.

            “Am I?” he asks, but he already knows. He’s fully aware of his beauty and charm.

            She wants to slap him, but she knows he would stop her before her hand reached his skin. He laughs at her reaction, a quiet but deep laugh. He touches her lips with his thumb.

            “As I said: poisonous.”

            She doesn’t know, but he’s beyond infatuated with her. He wants her. He loves her. He wants to explore her, once, twice, thrice, over and over again. He wants to show her everything he has to offer, make her feel more than humans could ever give her, more than she could ever experience.

            But there will be time for that. 

            For now, he just lays his head on the sand, his left cheek sinking into it, and closes his eyes, content to be by her side.

            “You never told me your name,” she mentions, shifting onto her side and propping herself up on an elbow to reach his back. The flowers on her stomach cascade gently onto the sand. She yearns to touch him, and so she does, beginning by brushing away the patches of sand still clinging to his skin.

            He mumbles something, as if gradually drifting into slumber. 

            “Oliver,” he murmurs eventually.

            “Oliver,” she repeats, and then she chuckles softly.

            Oliver stirs beneath her, attempting to catch her gaze over his shoulder. “What’s funny?”

            “The Old French form of Oliver is Olivier, derived from the Germanic name Alfher, meaning elf army, a warrior.” She pauses, a tender smile gracing her lips. “It seems fitting.”

            He raises his eyebrows for a moment, contemplating her words. “Well, I can’t deny I’ve battled the urge to kidnap you for the last decade and held myself back. I suppose that does make me a warrior.”

            He is a warrior.

            “My warrior,” she murmurs, savoring the sweetness of the words on her lips. He smiles against the sand, content that she acknowledges the truth: he belongs to her.

            As she continues to delicately brush the sand from his back, she notices something that catches her breath. She must have made a sound because Oliver lifts his head again and looks at her.

            “Ivy?”

            “There’s...” she starts to say, her eyes fixed on a spot on his back, then scanning over his entire back. “The fox... is gone.”

            “Oh,” he says after a moment, relaxing his shoulders.

            Why is he not concerned?

            “It’s not a fox,” he corrects, reclining again. “It’s a Kitsune; a naughty one, I must say.”

            Her words stutter out, “Where— Where has he gone?”

            Oliver glances around, then shrugs nonchalantly. “He can’t be far. He was quite eager about today. He’s probably waiting for you to play with him.”

            “Play?”

            “Yes, Noah is quite the playful one,” he elaborates with a knowing smile, the corners of his lips curving like crescent moons in the twilight while Ivy blinks, apprehensive yet yearning to meet him—to meet Noah. “He delights in playing tricks, so be cautious.”

            The more Oliver talks, the more Ivy’s confusion swirls, like mist in a forest clearing. He had promised there wouldn’t be anything to be afraid of, that he would keep her safe.

            “Why should I be ca—?”

            “Well,” he cuts her off, “he’s adept at the art of seduction, and I suspect he’s quite intent on seducing you.”

            Oh, she thinks. A soft exhale eases her tense shoulders. She should be worried about falling into another magical creature’s trap. But the memory of the fox’s gaze—the kitsune’s, the warmth it had radiated in the woods when she first met Oliver, soothes her uncertainty; the reassurance the animal sent her way a decade ago seemed to tell her that everything would be okay, that she would be showered in affection and love when the time came. 

            The time had come. The time was now.

            An urgent need to find Noah surges through her, stirring butterflies that flutter both in her stomach and around her. Perhaps they’re there to guide her.

            Before rising to search, she hesitates, casting an uneasy glance down at Oliver. 

            “But— Will you allow him—? Allow me—?” 

            “Sure,” he replies before her words fully form. “Only if you desire it, of course,” his touch on her knee is reassuring. “But first, warm up to him, get to know each other.”

            Already pulling on her dress and panties, Ivy asks hurriedly, “How are we supposed to do that? I don’t even know where he is.”

            Oliver’s response comes with a cryptic smile, his eyes full of mischief.

            “That’s precisely how you begin: by seeking,” he explains. “Find him, Ivy. Find Noah. He’s been waiting for you, too.”

→ next part ✨ | my works 🌙

Taglist is open. Drop a comment or message me if you want to be tagged in part two and three :)

Taglist: @somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @poppy-in-the-woods | @blessedwithabadomen | @dsireland86 | @bluestdai | @poisongirl616 |

[chelledoggo]

does a TADC x Wizard of Oz AU exist yet?

if not i have some ideas for the casting

Dorothy - Pomni Oz - Caine The Wicked Witch of the West - Jax

but then there's a lot i'm not sure about

Scarecrow: not sure if this would be better for Kinger or Ragatha. i mean Kinger's the one who (typically) doesn't really think so he'd probably be better. but then Ragatha's made of cloth, which is... kinda like a Scarecrow? (plus Dorothy is apparently implied to have a crush on the Scarecrow so i have a clear Ragapom bias lol) Tin Man: i feel like Zooble and Gummigoo could both be good candidates for this role. Zooble could be suitable because of their deadpan demeanor and removeable parts, but then Gummigoo struggling with 'not being real' could also be a good analog to "not having a heart." The Lion: this may also be a good role for Kinger (being the "king of the forest"), but i can also kinda see Gangle in it, being a scared crybaby herself. Glinda: this one could also be a good role for Ragatha. but then again, Princess Loolilalu is more akin to Glinda in looks and mannerism. Toto: uhhhh... Bubble??? i really don't know what other character at this point would fit. unless we do a crossover with Darly Boxman and put Milkpooch in that role.

i'm totally open to discussion on this. i may be tempted to draw a crossover pic someday. 👀

[random-tail]

I was not satisfied with my last attempt of a doll for this au but this one I am.

Dispite Wick being a complete sticky mess their verry sweet.

Do not tempt to ride them their body will not handle the extra weight but they have no problem carrying around the smaller dolls. As long as they ask nicely.

Also don't attempt to wash them. They hate water & will run away if u come near them with even a sponge.

Orange knife au belongs to @oobbbear

[quintsentenial]

Klonnie Week Day #2

Portrait of a Muse - Unresolved Sexual Tension.

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

Summary:

He captures her in soft moonlight, posed in silence, a living dream... "They say he might've loved her..." One of the viewers comment. "I mean look at how he drew her! How can they not?" A touch of fingers, a stolen glance, yet their boundaries stay held in a cautious dance... "They say you might've loved me..." She repeats to him one night. "And what do you think?" "That things were rarely that simple." Or, an AU starting in 1492 Bulgaria where Bonnie is but the simple daughter of a traveling merchant and Klaus a man on the hunt.

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

Story Blurb:

“I’d like to draw you,” a stranger asks, his words hanging in the air between them like an unexpected

Bonnie blinks at the man before her, her eyes widened in bafflement. "Draw me?" She utters, because that wasn’t the first thing she was expecting to hear from him with all the days he’s spent watching her work the inn, his eyes tracking her every move yet never approaching. 

No.

It was a different kind of proposition she'd expected, one she loathed responding to; and yet such depravity is not what he's asked from her tonight.

Though the man before her doesn’t bother repeating himself, all but a fleeting twitch upon his lips as sea-green eyes continue boring into her. “I’d make sure that you were well compensated for it,” he adds, nodding towards the dishes in her hand. “Double whatever you might be making here.”

…

Double?

Bonnie instinctively pulled the plates closer to herself, a bit defensive as she asks, “And just what would such an agreement with you entail?” 

"That you pose as I ask, allow me to dress you however I desire for a scene, and make yourself available to me whenever I want."

…

Just who was this man?

“It would be easy for you to abuse such rules,” she retorts, her skepticism lingering. 

Though the man only shrugs at her, his expression bored. “It would. But you’ll have to trust that my intentions aren’t wicked.” A subtle grin played on his lips now, a tilt that Bonnie isn't sure she should like. 

This was a bad idea…

And he seems like the kind of cautionary figures her mother always warns her about—men who purposefully sought out naive or disadvantaged women, disguising their ill intentions with the facade of opportunity that proved advantageous only to them and detrimental to their victims. 

…

Still…she was no regular woman—the magic constantly stirring against the surface of her skin could attest to that—and she certainly wouldn’t call herself naive.

She glances away for a moment, teeth worrying at some of the dry skin on her bottom lip. “I don’t know you…you’re a stranger here.” 

This was a very bad idea…

“A stranger offering you a grand opportunity,” he counters, eyes alight with a ferocity she can’t comprehend, one that seems to draw her in further. “Do you need more evidence of my wealth before you can agree? I can assure you that it’s nothing to scoff at.” 

That much was obvious with the way he was dressed, the way he looked; opulence in every thread, his attire draped in velvet and gilded finery, intricate patterns of embroidery matching perfectly with the few bits of gold jewelry he wore on his fingers, his blonde hair seeming soft and perfectly styled on his head.

Yes, this was a man whose comforts surely matched that of a king, his offer hanging in the air both tempting and treacherous.

…

She could always use the gold…

The innkeeper here was kind enough to pay her what he could in exchange for her modest services, but it was never going to be enough to put certain plans of hers in motion, the idea of orange grove trees and sandstone beaches flashing temptingly in her mind's eye.  

Bonnie looks back at him, gaze assessing. 

She could have it…

…

…she could have it all in exchange for what? A few pictures? 

“I want the option to say no if your requests prove to be against my liking,” she demands, taking the first step toward the precipice where either her success or peril surely awaits.

The man, seemingly unfazed, shrugs again, conceding easily to her demand. “Fair enough.”

“And for the first few drawings…” She continues, unwilling to let a single condition of hers slip their current negotiations. “We’ll do them here in the inn.”

Where she could call for help if anything were to go awry. 

“Easily done,” he quickly agrees, tossing her a smile that was something both dangerous and beckoning. “Now….do we have a deal?”

Bonnie nods once, sealing her fate. “We do.”

He extended a hand toward her, and she discarded her dishes to a nearby table before taking his hand in turn. “Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson.”

An interesting name she thinks, looking down at their hands, that familiar dark energy coursing through their touch, surprising her eyes back to his; her heart beginning to beat sporadically in her chest. 

Vampire. 

…

Witch, his eyes seem to answer, grin widening further to show all his teeth. “And your name is?”

Bonnie licks her lips, wondering just how desperate she seeks to become before finally making a decision, bowing slightly as she answers, “Bonnie Bennett, my lord," though the answering look of glee on his face does nothing to help the shivers running up her spine.

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

For @klonnieshippersclub KlonnieWeek.

Read the rest below!

Closing Note:

A bit late to the party but here nonetheless! xoxo

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

I saw your post about enimes to lovers trope for Clegan. There's a severe lack of that in the fandom because it's pretty much Cannon that they fall in love at first sight especially John.

They could be lawyers representing their clients against eachother, or businessmen of rival companies or their families are rivals or they could just simply be academic rivals.

I imagine a modern au where Gale is like this Golden boy of the school and excels in academics where as John is also a top player for football let's say? They both clash a lot.... Gale is too prideful of his achievements and John rightfully thinks he's a prude.

I imagine they are forced to work together on a project and John being a menace (and just a teenager who picks on his crush 🙄) Gale loosens up eventually and they sort of become friends

It’s very hard to picture them as enemies to lovers in any universe 😅 Buuut I think all that passion would translate so well into some initial hate if they somehow got off on the wrong foot 😈

I’m always a sucker for a jock/nerd enemies to lovers fic and I think they’d be PERFECT for it! So freaking tempted to write it myself but I’ve promised myself not to start anything new 😭

I like the idea of a group project because Gale would get the opportunity to learn John has more depth than just being a douchey athlete and is high key pretty smart, he actually earns his grades in the advanced classes, they’re not just handed to him and he doesn’t pay anyone to do his homework like the rumors suggest. John has a crush from day 1 but he definitely thought Gale was an uptight snob going into it, imagine his absolute delight when he learns that Gale has a wicked sense of humor and a penchant for mischief like John, he’s just quieter and sneakier about it.

Definitely lots of fooling around in terrible places once the chemistry gets to be too much and they’re struggling to maintain their hate for each other once they start fooling around but they both hate being wrong and “losing” so they try to keep up the facade… it’s not fooling any of their friends 😂

Cliche as hell and been written a million times but I’d read it again for The Buckies 🙌

I’m here for any version of enemies to lovers tbh but the school one got me a bit lol

[tikus-library]

"The Visiting"

Avengers AU - Chapter 2

Previous

Characters: Loki x OC!Julia

Posted: Sept 30th

WARNINGS: ???

A/N: this one is snail updates, so sorry, thank you for those that have stuck around with my inconsistent updates to any of my stories! Yall are the best 🫶 (I really forgot to post here to tumblr)

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved. 

**Please Do Not Repost or 'Fix' My Work** 

“Is it fun?!”

Loki suppressed his grin entering his room to find her there once again. “Is what fun?” He asked, already knowing to what she referred to as he let out a long sigh. He had donned his best royal garments of course, he was used to the celebrations, yet his mother had machinations against him, keeping him on his feet and on the floor almost all night.

He did not dislike the women, he did not dislike men, the fact of the matter was that they did not hold the same honey colored eyes. Some had the same curls, yet lacked the length, others had the same color yet lacked the chaos and thickness - he had been tempted to reach out and capture her hair in his hand. Curious as to whether it was as soft as it seemed.

“Loki!” She called his name out, mixing it with her laughter, she twirled on her toes, huffing out a breath as she met his gaze, “DANCING!”

He tugged on the cord at his neck, loosening it to shake off his cloak. “Dancing, ahh?” He stepped closer to his bed, dropping the cloak to the floor. He watched as she continued to turn in circles, “what do you think? You were watching me?” he loosened the cuffs at his wrists, clothing loosening as he undressed, relieved as it no longer attempted to strangle him.

She couldn't hide the light blush that dusted her cheeks, “your my favorite to spy on,” she sang with mirth.

Loki paused, “then there are others?”

She faltered in her steps, “yes but…”

“But - ?” He pried, gaze intense as he waited for her answer. She watched other men?

“Well, most have more than three legs, or eight eyes, and they do not hold a conversation very well.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her, “Julia, I thought you might bring up I was the most handsome.”

She stopped dancing and smiled at him, “you don't need me to remind you!”

“Perhaps I do,” he nearly pouted as he stripped off the heavy leathers and stood in front of her in just his undershirt and pants. Her eyes slid down his face to his chest and further before she managed to turn around. A wicked grin slid into place, “I have figured out where you are,” he hummed, setting the fire alight with a wave of his hand, the low light danced over her curves as she stepped towards the large windows of his rooms. He supposed she was giving him privacy, but did he truly want it?

“Have you?”

“A name like yours? Julia Reyes? You must be a Midgardian, I know some there…” he moved closer to her, “you wanted to dance?”

She sneaked a glance at him and satisfied he was dressed appropriately, nodded enthusiastically. “We don't do dances here,” she said, stepping towards him.

“How boring.”

“Did you like them?” She asked, looking up at him as he eased her into quick steps, hand curling on her waist and carefully gripping her hand in his.

She was real, he could find her. It wouldn't be much. “Who?”

Julia snickered at him, “one of those girls? You danced with so many!”

Loki’s face dropped, he sniffed, “not of my choosing, my mother was delegating and I had very little choice. “

“Who can say no to their mom?” She asked with a laugh.

Loki led her through the dance, his rooms quiet except the soft swish of their clothes, her quiet voice and their shared breaths. This was intimate on a different level. “Julia-”

She hushed him and pressed her cheek to his chest, “let me stay here” she whispered, “they're coming.”

Loki's eyes flicked up and he glanced around his rooms. “Who? Who Julia?”

She jerked out of his arms and he rushed forwards to grasp at her, reaching out with his magic, could he hold her here?

“Loki–” She reached out, her fingers grazing his and he was determined to keep her there to wrap her in his arms and hold her.

But he blinked and he was standing alone.

Read On Ao3

[vilsoo]

୨⎯ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 † PROLOGUE. ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror...

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: violence, blood, death, WC: 1,401

GSW MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

NOTES. this series is currently being revamped and i hope you all enjoy <33 if you want to be tagged for new updates on here, the taglist is now available in the gsw masterlist !!

ㅤ 200 ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴏ ‏‏‎ ‎ ㅤ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 19ᴛʜ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ. . .

"May I have this dance?" The man's silvery voice echoed.

The layers of the woman's extravagant ballgown billowed and rippled ever so graceful, ever so modest, the revering gleam in her eyes crawling under his skin with beautiful intensity. It was no mistake that she saw him before he saw her that night with such feigned enticement for him, her stunning silhouette of the night enchanting his mind with the need to uncover her mystery.

He found her alone on the balcony overlooking the ballroom, the daffodil-colored flames of the crystal chandeliers adorning to her ballgown. Alone in the grand golden halls with colossal stone pillars and a polished luxurious floor, watching the people of the grandeur waltz in perfect harmony.

The man in his dark, embroidered suit held his arm out in wait of her response. She tilts her head at him coquettishly and scrutinizes his features. Every movement of her body was so elegant to him, so serene. "You may," she tells him, the softest mutter of a fragile prayer. Her hand hooks onto his arm, sauntering down the grand stairs with no sign of reluctance.

The man then held her hand as she walked through the night like passion's grace, locking her pure and slothful eyes onto his as they faced each other on the polished dance floor. The orchestra's vibrations and whimsical notes hung in the air, attaching strings of gold onto the joints of the dancers and controlling them marionettes. The two bow to each other before he offers his hand for her again, the silk of her gloves intertwining with his.

They swirled on the dance floor like ocean currents and waltzed in a beautiful rhythm. "You look ravishing, my dearest," he spoke sweetly to the woman. He would pull her closer by the waist, her gracious ballgown beneath, and a wide smile stretched across her face.

Her laugh was as sweet as a deadly sin.

The woman's eyes never left on him, her fingers sliding up his arms with the coldest calculation and a wanton purpose. It felt like wrapping him into a spell, crawling into his skin slowly, and slipping him into a trance with her. Her wild ecstasy was filling her, an insatiable hunger and frenzy slowly growing to its peak. Together, they were raptured into their own little fairy tale.

A dark and twisted little fairy tale.

The two conversed after their waltz, roaming freely in the luxe halls and speaking passionately until the echoes of the party turned faint. Oh, how he didn't know about the bloodlust and rapacious desire boiling erratically in the woman. He doesn't know who she really is, what was really behind that tempting smile full of lies. Taking his hand, she took him far away from the vicinity and outside under the pale moonlight, the sound of gravel crunching in their path.

Dragged into the forest, surrounded by the wicked silhouettes of naked tree branches shaped like lightning bolts, and the moon barely illuminating their faces. The two were nearby a lake. He can hear the ravens and crows cawing among the trees as they fled across the sky, camouflaging with the darkness.

"Where have you taken me?" he asks, completely oblivious of her doings.

She inches closer and holds onto his face in feigned comfort, feeling the beating of his heart that was soon to disappear.

"Somewhere more private."

This was the night. The night the devil herself had come up to earth. An incarnate of darkness, corrupting the fate of men and their pure souls. A young lady so graceful now murderous and fuming with her beautiful prey.

She distracts him with a slow kiss. Nothing could hold her, nothing could stop her, for her insatiable lust for flesh and blood and human terror kept raging. Ravens, crows, and vultures crowded around, perched on tree branches as they watched. Their kiss drowns deeper, the slickness of her tongue moving against his. A wonderful and soft kiss he settled in, blossoming this ravenous desire.

But when the man's eyes slowly peaked open, and the moon was not illuminating of brilliant silver beams, he realized that he would never see the color red the same again.

"Do you see that?" he whispers in alarm, arching his neck at the sky.

"See what?" The woman whirls around to raise her head at the sky, the dark clouds and the moon appearing to be red.

He scanned the setting. Black birds and bats started flying over them, cawing loudly and scattering uncontrollably.

"What are they doing?"

The woman kept her head up high, still holding onto his neck and feeling the anticipation cascade over her brilliantly. A sinister smirk slowly crept at the edge of her lips, hands moving to his chest.

"They're waiting, my dearest."

The woman suddenly shoves him onto the grass, immediately straddling him and ruling over him with tremulous, raw kisses of hunger. Though the man was lost, he was still under her spell. Blood and fire-stained eyes turning a yellow sapphire, the tongue of a serpent and a champion born of bloodlust. Her hand was palming the hard bulge in his slacks, emitting soft sighs from the man.

"Are you scared?" she whispers tenderly, her fingers intertwined with the locks of his hair.

The man shook his head meekly at her. He can feel her shapely curves and take in that addictive aroma, beautiful as the red moon. Lust and longing fill the air as she drew away from his lips and licked her owns.

"That’s too bad. I need you frightened."

Suddenly, her mouth stretches open— so wide, so horrifying, that the man could not believe his own eyes. A succubus personified, one of the deadliest creatures of the night that prey and reap on the lives of innocents. Made to taste like honey and cream, born to obsess your thoughts. He screams, he shrieks, scurrying to stand on his feet, but stumbled when he clawed at his neck.

She laughs hysterically at the man's struggling protests. Puddles of crimson and patterns of clotted blood coat on the grass and soaked his ivory suit. He struggled to fight every rough, jagged bite and puncture of her claws she projected on him, but his strength staggered. The birds were cawing loudly. It didn't take long until his body grew numb, a sign that his life was fading away greatly. Her chin, teeth, and lips were dyed in his splattered blood, a bittersweet flavor on her tongue that drove her libido extremely crazy.

From there she continued to eat his flesh, leaving room for the vultures and other carnivores. She ripped him from limb to limb, muscle to muscle, organ to organ, most signs of beautiful flesh, until his bones were licked clean.

She stared into the sky, the moonshine fading back to silver. Her beautiful ballgown was decorated with his blood, splattered on her cleavage and neck. Evil, fear, and terror— the woman's divine embodiment and embrace. She had a crimson smile extended, fulfilled and satisfied of her wildest, yet primal need.

The deadliest, macabre, and horrifying succubus ever alive; the Sinistress. Incapable of love, incapable of possessing a heart. The root of all evil herself. On the 666th day when civilization on Earth started developing, she was born in Hell from people's fear of sin. With such tremendous and terrorizing powers as a sex demon that feeds off sin and flesh and sexual energy, she continued to scorch the Earth forever, keeping herself young and beautiful, yet sultry and deadly.

For centuries, the Sinistress would linger in the dreams of sinful people throughout her years, mutating them into night terrors and allowing a gateway for other incubi and succubi from Hell to feed off their sexual energy. And once these victims figured that the Sinistress can disguise herself as a mortal, her presence was haunted down for centuries, where the innocent women in town who were accused as witches were targeted and burned at the stake.

Never has she been caught, until, a sneaky priest ordained as an exorcist that has been targeting that succubus for years trapped her soul in a place where she cannot harm others for eternity; the Malevolent Shrine. The nightmares faded, and the innocent were able to work peacefully with no gruesome disturbance in town.

But it wasn't until another human discovered how to unbind her.

VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2023. originally published April 10, 2021. please do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr.

[97keanu]

Premise: You were born a Slayer. It's in your blood, you've been trained to kill monsters your whole life. You have no mercy especially when it comes to Vampires, those blood sucking nightmares that lurk in the shadows. You've had no problems as a young Slayer so far, killing mostly young Vampires as well. That is until you meet John. He's so much more powerful than you, and he wants you for reasons he may not even understand. All John knows is that he's drawn to you, beyond even the sweetness of your blood. All you know is that he won't leave your dreams and you ache for his touch despite yourself. The strange connection between the two of you perplexes you both, and in a game of cat and mouse you end up more confused about your place as a Slayer than ever before...

With the help of some friendly faces, you can conquer anything.

Tags/CW: KEANUVERSE (multiple keanu characters in one), Vampire!John Wick, Slayer!Reader, enemies to ???, hunted/hunter dynamics, prey/pred dynamics, age gap (21/???), dubcon, power dynamics, John Constantine is your best slayer friend, asshole!Constantine, protective!Constantine, love triangle?, roommate!Ted Logan, himbo!Ted, sensitive!Ted, Best Friend!Ted, childhood friends ted Logan x you, loser!neo, witchy!neo, past lives, reincarnation troupes, part one.

Author's Note: That's it. We're doing it, folks. Full Top 5 Keanuverse supernatural AU. We got Vampire!John Wick, Slayer!Constantine, Roommate and ???!Ted Logan, Demon!Kevin, and last but not least, Hacker!Neo to help you along the way. This is the Halloween 2023 finale of the ages. Hope to see you all there ʚ♥︎ɞ

You could sense it. You knew you were being hunted. That's what made you different from all the other humans that walked this city alone at night, like helpless sheep or cattle grazing about from one place to the next. Instead, the hair on your neck raised, the tingle on your back reverberated throughout your body, and you could feel the cold stare like two little pin pricks on your shoulder blades. A vampire was hunting you.

You know not to fret, not to show any sign that you know it's back there, the monster that seeks you out. No, you must play pretend, act as if you're no different from the other humans that walk sporadically alongside you on this chilled October night. The leaves play along, rustling with your step, crunching despite the fact that you know, if you really wanted, you could walk as silently as the night. You let your body stay fluid and calm, walking and looking ahead towards your destination, an alleyway. You turn into it, and you feel the coldness spread across your shoulders, knowing the vampire is nearer than ever before. You slide your hand into your leather jacket, pulling out your wooden stake and turning, aimed and ready.

You see him, the monster that's hunted you. He's older, at least by his human looking age, but you have no idea how old he may be in vampire years. He wears a black on black suit, and his eyes gleam red at you. You can see the bloodlust in his eyes, and by the lack of surprise at your stake, he must have known you were a Slayer. You lower your stance, ready for his attack, but he looks at you with intrigue.

"I have never smelled a Slayer so...delectable..." His voice is deep, husky and mature.

He raises an eyebrow at you while you grit your teeth at his comment, clearly taking this much more seriously than his nonchalance.

"Too bad you won't get a taste." You chide, trying to make your own voice sound as in control and threatening as his.

You watch as your breath materializes in the cold of the night, while the Vampire across from you shows no such signs. The moments tick by as you consider what to do, questioning if you should strike first, but knowing that's what he wants.

"Go ahead, Slayer, take your best shot..." He tempts you, and your body stiffens, rigid and ready to strike.

"You first," you throw back.

"If you insist..." The Vampire replies.

Before you can say any other snide comments, he's dashed forward, so fast you can barely detect it. You let out an aggravated breath and launch back, away from what's chasing you. The Vampire laughs and before you can fight him off, he's grabbed your neck, pressing you into the brick wall of the alley.

"I like a woman who tells me what she wants..." He whispers into your ears, a deep chuckle resonating.

The feeling of his cold breath across your neck sends chills down your body, you feel as if it's just you and this creature, your vision tunneling to the two of you. The way your throat is being held sends butterflies to your stomach, and you squirm in his grip. You usually aren't defeated so quickly. He must be very old, and very powerful, that much is evidenced by how fast he was able to move and pin you. You can't believe you underestimated him. You hope you won't pay for it.

"What are you waiting for..." You grimace, knowing the Vampire is so close to your neck, but making no move to bite.

Your only hope now is that if he does bite you, maybe he'll be distracted enough by your taste for you to use the stake you still grip in your hand. Your hand hurts from how tightly you're holding it.

"I like to play with my prey, dear..." You hear his deep voice answer finally, a cold hand stroking the side of your cheek. You flinch away, but he keeps going, looking deeply into your eyes.

"Why don't you just submit to me..." his voice is smooth like velvet now, his red eyes mesmerizing.

Slayers are harder to hypnotize than regular humans, but with a vampire this powerful, you feel his mind probing yours, dancing along the outside, looking for a way in. You've trained enough to know how to keep your mind locked, but your stomach turns while you squirm, wondering if it's enough. You're young for a Slayer, only just turned 21, and you're certain a Vampire this old will use any trick he has picked up over the years against you. You turn your head, trying to look away from that sultry red gaze. Your heart quickens and your breath gets away from you.

"I love it when they resist...it makes it that much more entertaining." He keeps your head in place, a grip on your chin now, stopping you from looking away.

You shake, your body frightened, unable to control the fear that courses through your veins right now. You can't believe you were stupid enough to let this happen. You try to keep your eyes away from his, but the world behind him darkens until there's nothing but him holding you to anything. You feel as if the universe has floated away, and the creature before you is your only hope to stay grounded. You blink as much as you can, trying to get away, but it's happening, he's found a way in. He begins to flood your mind, and you want to scream when you sense what he's doing to you.

"I want you to like this as much as me..." His voice is no longer coming from his mouth, instead directly surfacing in your mind.

The Vampire tightens his grip on your throat just so, in the perfect way, and you can't stop the moan that escapes your mouth.

"I can tell every little thing that turns you on...so predictable for a human such as yourself to want to be dominated. I don't know why you resist so much when even your most basic instincts want this..." You want to thrash against him, yell out, spit in his face if you could.

Instead, you find yourself growing wetter between your legs as the Vampires hands move to roam your body. One draws all the way down your neck to your breast, sizing them up and enjoying the feel of them. Another moan escapes you, floating up into the night air quietly. The worst part was, somewhere deep down, you knew you have craved to be touched like this. You fight the thought, you hate that he can hear them, and you hope with anger that he knows it was never a monster that you wanted to be touched by.

"So busy, learning how to kill creatures like me, never having any time to make the connections necessary to get this far with anyone else." He teases you, a smile showing just how large his fangs have grown.

His long, dark hair tousled by the chilly night breeze, he and the night are both uncaring for your torment. You hate how hot your body becomes from his freezing touch. You can only melt there, like liquid in his grasp, whining out as he touches you more and more. You feel a hand snake between your thighs, and your eyes waiver from how good it feels.

"Submit, and I will make this all be over..." The voice commands, asking so perfectly you consider agreeing. The vampire's mouth opens, fangs inhumanly long, claws wrapped around your neck, eyes glowing red, hungry for you.

Just as you're on the verge of it all, the edge looking so comforting to jump from, you hear a voice call out. A tiny voice, that of a child talking to their mother.

"Mommy! Look! A monster!" The child has spotted the vampire, and as you look to see the creature's reaction, you see that there's no one holding you to the wall anymore. All presence of the Vampire is gone, only the shadowy memory of his grip on your mind remains.

"That's not very nice to say about her." The woman responds to her child after seeing you in the alleyway, still a bit dazed.

The woman ushers the child along, and disappears, onto her own life. You try to regain your body. The world is becoming brighter and bigger all at once, and the feeling makes your stomach sick. You feel the vertigo from the experience wash over you, but you know you have to keep going before he comes back. You stumble forward, each step becoming more controlled until you're breaking out into a run towards your apartment, mind not thinking over if that's a good idea or not. You head inside feeling more lost than ever about what's happened.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"I don't know, it's like nothing I've ever faced before..." You whisper across the coffee table, not wanting to admit your defeat tonight.

Your confidant about the slayer world, Constantine, sips his black coffee thoughtfully. He's the only other person in this new city you moved to that you know you can trust with such things. Unfortunately, he had a tendency to be an asshole as well.

"I don't know why you would go into that alley by yourself," he chides. "You should have called me at least..."

He adds the last part, and you remember that as much as he can be a dick about things, he also tends to be quite protective of you, in his own way.

"I know, I just..." You pause, looking for the right words. "I didn't think it would be such a powerful Vampire, I haven't seen one in the city since..."

You begin to speak, but the words fall in the air.

"Since," Constantine finishes. "Since the night we met..."

It was a disaster. You ended up accidentally messing up Constantine's biggest kill of his career. He has hunted the Old One for almost a year before you decided to move, and here you are, waltzing in at the wrong time. Constantine had to choose between saving you, a Slayer who was a stranger to him, or finally finishing off what he had started.

You owed him big time.

"Well, in the spirit of not having it end like last time, maybe you better let me take over the case." He says sarcastically, his voice gruff to try to get his way.

"I prefer it if we work on it together..." You admit.

"And you get your ass almost chewed up and spit out again? I don't think so." He scoffs.

"I doubt he will stop hunting me, you could even use me as bait if you really wanted." You were always great with coming up with ideas, but acting on them was a different matter.

"Hm..." Constantine thinks for a moment. "We'll see about that one."

He stands, walking over to your kitchen, which was basically in your living room of the tiny apartment, and pouring out his cup in your sink. He walks towards the door and grabs his long black trench coat, getting it on.

"I'll look into this vampire, see if I can't get a read on who he is in the monster world." Constantine says.

"I want you to make sure you stay inside tonight though." he continues, then looks at you before leaving. "And please, next time give me a call if something like that is going on."

He leaves before you can respond, and soon enough you're left all alone in your tiny apartment.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You toss and turn in bed all night, sweaty despite the cold October air slipping through your bedroom window. You try to sleep, but every time that darkness takes you, you dream of red eyes. Red eyes that hunger for you, sharp teeth that desire your flesh, you feel as if you're on fire from the touch of such cold hands.

You wake once more with a jolt as you dream of those fangs piercing your tender neck. As you look about your dark bedroom, eyes unfocused, your breath seizes in your throat as you think you see him. That long hair, well kept beard, tempting eyes. You blink, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes, and when you look to the corner of your dark room, nothing is to be found. You think for a moment, and wonder if that gust of cold air was just the wind, or...?

You shake your head, trying not to be silly, and slipping from your damp from sweat sheets. You check the clock, and can hardly believe it's only half past 4 a.m.

Your bare feet pad across the cold wood floors of your apartment, and as you flick on the light in the living room, you hear the front door jingling.

You immediately feel your heart pick up, and you search the room for something to defend yourself with. You settle on a giant encyclopedia you keep on the bookshelf, wielding it and hiding just out of sight as the door opens.

As the intruder rounds the corner, you take them by surprise, your hands clutching the book and aiming for the head. You let out a yell as you go, and the intruder yells back, hands already out and grabbing the book from yours.

"Jeez! What's gotten into you?" You hear the familiar voice of your roommate, Ted.

You stare at him, the sleepless fogginess of your head starting to clear as you see him. You could cry after the night you've had, and Ted can tell just from looking at you. He takes the book, gently and softly, and places it on a nearby table. Then he slowly, ready for you to say no at any time, wraps two big arms around you, his sweatshirt soft and comfortable, his warmth radiating.

"I'm so sorry, Ted..." Your voice quivers and tears begin to flow from the stress and how kindly Ted is treating you after almost bashing him.

"Shh..." His voice is deep, soothing. "It's okay. You don't have to talk right now."

And you don't. You let Ted lead you to the couch, settling into him and his musky scent. You have always been able to count on him, even though he knows nothing about the slayer world you live in. He's been your best friend since forever, meeting you as children in school. He is no stranger for being a shoulder to cry on, and he never expects anything in return besides your own support and friendship. That's what you've always loved about him.

And now, you're glad for his presence more than ever. For some reason, despite Ted being only human, you feel so safe in his strong arms. You always have.

Ted relaxes you, petting your back and hair softly. He puts on your favorite movie, knowing it by heart by now, and let's you slowly drift back to sleep while laying on his chest. Listening to his deep, rhythmic breathing soothes you more than you knew you needed it. You fall back into a dreamless sleep, no nightmares of fangs or flesh to be found, and you are grateful.

You don't know when, but sometime near sunrise, Ted gently picks you up, taking you back to your room, and tucking you in. You sleep well despite how late in the day it's gotten.

When you awake, it's well past noon, and you groan, stretching and shaking off the deep sleep. Your body thanks you for taking it slow this morning, or afternoon really, and you once again pad back out to the kitchen. This time with less nightmare fueled stress.

When you do, Ted is eating the largest bowl of cereal you can imagine out of a mixing bowl. When he sees you, he grins, trying to swallow his mouthful of Reese's Puffs.

"Hey, Sunshine!" He greets you using the nickname he gave you as a kid.

"Morning, Moonbeam..." You reply with a yawn and another stretch you didn't know you had in you.

You feel better in Ted's presence, even now. You shine his goofy smile right back at him and hop up on the counter next to him.

"So, any plans for the day?" Ted asks, still housing his bowl of cereal.

"Not really, taking it easy I guess." You lie, knowing that in reality, you have to prepare after last nights attack, but Ted can't know that. Even if you wish he could...

"Sounds like a plan! Me and Bill are going down to the arcade later if you want to join!" He always offers to let you get in on his "bro time" with Bill. Sometimes you accept, but you have a lot of work to do today.

"You guys go on ahead, I think I need to recoup after last night." Ted nods, and you know he won't ask, but you can tell he's curious about what happened. You keep your mouth closed, instead hopping off the counter to start some coffee.

The two of you enjoy the rest of breakfast talking about normal topics, like how Ted is ready to finally get that high score in Tetris. You enjoy being able to talk about such things with someone, it makes you feel normal again, if only for a few moments.

Soon enough, a knock comes to the door, and you jump, despite yourself. Ted looks at you with a sympathetic smile, and starts off to the door.

"I'll get it, Sunshine..." Ted says softly as he walks by you.

You know immediately as the door opens, it's Bill. The two boys woop and woof at each other, practically barking like dogs as they amp each other up to finally win at this or that game. Ted bounces back into the kitchen, grabbing his keys as he does.

"You call me and let me know if you need anything, okay?" Ted says, waiting for you to nod, then smiles and says his goodbyes before excitedly heading out with Bill.

You can hear them bolting and howling down the hall until the sound fades away to silence.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You've spent the rest of the day trying to find anything to keep your mind off of the vampire and what he might be doing right about now. You would say sleeping, as the day wanes on still. It's hard to imagine such an evil creature could sleep, though. You watch out the window as the sky turns to orange, the fall season setting the sun so early now. Orange turns to pink, and then purple, and before you know it, darkness has set upon the world once again.

You hate waiting around. You feel restless, and as you pace your apartment, you begin to feel strange. Your body feels so different, as if it's not even your own. You decide to go to the bathroom, flicking on the yellow light, and walking before the mirror over your sink.

You catch sight of your face, and how gaunt and thin it looks. It's you, you know that's you looking back at yourself. On a deeper level, you know that's just not true. You feel so confused, and reach up to touch your face when you see the other woman in the mirror move.

You stumble back, and as you do, she mouths something at you. You can't quite catch what she's trying to tell you, but you think you see her say, "Help him..."

You rush from the bathroom, and your eyes try to stay away from anything reflective.

You call Constantine, even as your stomach clenches from the idea.

"What?" His voice answers and you feel the strangeness start to subside.

"I just...I thought I saw something." You blurt out, not knowing what to say, or how to explain.

"Saw what? The vampire?" He asks, and the concern is obvious in his voice.

"No, not him..." You bite your lip, holding the phone to your head with a grip, your body curling up into the couch. "I thought I saw...well, it doesn't matter."

"Alright, well, I'm still working on figuring this all out, I'll be back over when I can." You can tell he's trying to be reassuring, but it's not really helping.

"It's okay...I think," you pause on what you want to say next, feeling conflicted inside. "I think I just needed to hear your voice..."

Constantine's line is silent for a moment, then he speaks.

"I'm glad it helped then. I'll be back soon." He seems genuinely surprised by your comment, but happy to have made things easier on you either way.

You hang up, and sit there on the couch, dazed and unsure of what to do with yourself. Eventually, you turn on some television, and find yourself falling asleep, despite how hard you try to keep your eyes open.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You don't know when it started, but you're walking, moving with your eyes closed, and your body finding it's way towards the door of your balcony. You want to wake up, will yourself to stop, but you continue, and the hold on your mind is such an iron grip that you know you're too weak to stop it. You can only just barely open your eyes, seeing through your long lashes as you unlock the balcony door, the wind picking up and opening it.

Outside, in the night, he stands there, looking for you.

The vampire is on your balcony now, his dark hair whipping in the wind. He wears his dark suit, and he reaches out a gloved hand to you. You want to run from him, but your body betrays you. You come closer as he coaxes you with two fingers. It's as if something else has taken over your mind, and is making the decision to go forward for you. You hate how helpless you feel, as if your own body is just a shell that you're residing in. As you get closer you can see him clearly standing there, as if he was some sort of prince of the night, coming to rescue his fair Juliet.

You feel his arms snake around your waist, bringing you in. He smells of pine and metal, a smoky scent mixed somewhere in the middle. The one holding your mind swoons for the smell, and you can't help but feel enchanted as well. You find your body leaning into his, holding on as if he could be your salvation.

But when you look up into those red eyes of his, you know you have everything to fear in his presence.

"My sweet...have you returned to me?" His voice is tender, but he looks at you hungrily.

You open your mouth to say something, and what comes out is not your voice, not your words.

"Yes, my love..."

The vampire grins, and you feel as if the spider has truly captured the fly, unable to unweave yourself from his web.

As you try to will yourself to wake up, wake up, wake up...

John dips you lower, moving your hair from your neck, and his fangs baring sweetly.

"And now, we shall never be apart again..." His eyes look deeply into yours, and it feels as if he's speaking to your very soul. You gasp and he leans in, dragging his teeth across the sensitive flesh of your neck.

Just as he's prepared to bite, you jolt awake. You're still on the couch, the TV still running, and you try to find your bearings. You have no idea how it felt so real, how you felt like a prisoner of your own mind. You tell yourself it was just a dream, but you're scared to fall back asleep at this point, despite being so exhausted by the whole situation.

You look about the room, still feeling so watched, and see that the balcony door is ajar, just slightly, letting the cool breeze in.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You hear a knock at the door. You stand cautiously, and carefully tiptoe to see who's there through the peephole.

It's Constantine, standing in his usual dark trench coat and suit, finishing the end of a cigarette.

"I know you're there, let me in already." He grumbles, and you remember that he's a much older, more trained Slayer than you.

You sigh, your small piece of a normal morning fading away as you unlock the door.

"Good morning, Constantine." You say with a smile, and he stops and takes a long look at you.

"Rough night, huh?" He assesses then, without waiting for you, barges into your apartment. Typical.

"Oh yes! Please after you!" You say sarcastically past the fact, rolling your eyes.

"We have a lot of work to do, and you're still in your pajamas. Please save the sarcasm for someone who's not helping your sorry ass, Princess." He throws the last word at you, a nickname he's been using on you to your great displeasure.

"Fine," you grumble under your breath, your arms folding across your chest. "What have you got for me?"

"So," Constantine starts, already in your kitchen and helping himself to his own black coffee. "I talked to Neo and he got me some info on the vampire who wants to take a bite out of you."

Constantine says the last part as he sips on his drink, obvious now that he's as tired as you.

"And?" You sit in the living room and Constantine joins you before continuing.

"And you're lucky to have made it back with your skin, Princess." he scoffs.

"That bad?" You look at him with sheepish dread.

"You seem to have drawn the attention of John Wick. A vampire they nicknamed Baba Yaga, or The Boogeyman." You feel a chill run through you at the name, Constantine continues.

"Looks like this vampire is pretty old. Almost getting near a 1000 years if our research was right. We looked into what people are saying about him, and it seems he is an overly skilled hunter, usually working as an assassin within the vampire hierarchy. What he wants with you, I have no clue." Constantine takes another deep sip as you digest what he's told you.

"So why call him the Baba-? What was it again?"

"Baba Yaga, it's Russian." Constantine interjects.

"Yeah, Baba whatever, Boogeyman and all that."

"Because besides being a nightmare to fuck with," Constantine starts with a scoff. "He also is highly skilled in mind manipulation, particularly dreams."

That explained the dreams you've been having lately, at least. The fact that he can so easily manipulate your mind makes your stomach churn. You stay quiet for a moment, contemplating all this new information. You're happy you had a light breakfast, your stomach now turning at the thought of how easily you could have died last night. It sours more as you think about what Constantine has told you.

"So...." You start, afraid to speak it.

"So, is he after you?" Constantine speaks it for you, and you nod, afraid to know the answer.

Constantine's face drops a little, concern sullying it.

"I'm afraid so. It looks like whatever this vampire begins hunting, he has a near perfect track record of obtaining." His voice is deeper, softer, lacking any sarcasm or wit that he usually holds. You watch as he swallows hard, looking at you with pity.

"What, you're already giving up on me?" You say with dismay at his attitude. You've never known him to be one to act like this.

"No! Of course not!" He seems to try to snap out of the somber tone. "But, it's not going to be easy. We will have to think up a perfect way to either kill him or at least get him to stop hunting you."

"How do we know he's still hunting me now?" You blurt out, wanting this to already be over.

"I could smell the scent of him even a block away. He's been patrolling your apartment all night." Your stomach drops. You can't believe you didn't pick that up. What lousy Slayer skills you have in comparison, you're suddenly very grateful to have Constantine on your side. Even if he is an asshole most of the time.

"Right. So...what do we do?" It's the only thing to say at this point.

"First off, I don't want you anywhere at night alone, you got that?" You can tell Constantine is going into protector mode as he talks, his voice stern and his face gravely serious. You nod.

"Second, Neo gave me some runes and tools to try out. From his research, it seems that these should work for warding off vampires and evil presences. We'll start with that today, then head over to his place to do some more research." You feel better knowing Constantine has this planned out.

You trust him enough to keep you safe, especially since his saving of your life is what your whole relationship is built on.

You two get started, etching runes and sigils in the wood work of the doorframes and floors. You pass smoldering herbs around the apartment, and take the time to say all the Latin spell work correctly. By the time you're done, the house smells wonderful and you feel a bit more at ease.

You change into a more acceptable outfit for a Slayer, consisting of thick blue jeans, and your signature black leather jacket. Your jacket, of course, has all you will need should you encounter another vampire. You made sure to packet properly this time. You hope you won't need to use it.

As soon as you're ready, Constantine takes you to Neo's place.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Apartment wasn't really a good word to describe Neo's place. It was more of a hovel. It was cramped, and placed in the sub sub-basement of a real apartment complex. You were half sure it was only there for storage and somehow Neo had taken up residency without anyone's knowledge. He had it packed with computers and tech, the other half scribbled with sigils and runes across the walls. It was somewhere between a witchy tarot shop, and a one man internet cafe. The lights from his computer displays cast a neon green glow across the cramped hole, and you had to watch for stacks of old tomes as you walked in behind Constantine.

Like Constantine, Neo loved cigarettes, one hanging out of his mouth, one behind his ear at the ready. He leaned back in his computer chair, looking at the two of you with deep bags under his eyes but a grin on his face. He looked like he needed a month's worth of sleep and a clean shave at the very least, his stubble's shadow well past 5 o'clock.

"Hello, hello, my Slayer friends...what brings you here this afternoon..." He yawns between a few words, stretching and standing from his chair to greet you.

"Same as last night." Constantine says gruffly, he's never really had the time for Neo's antics.

"Ah, yes. Baba Yaga..." He says with fake fright of the name. "What do you wish to know?"

"How to get rid of him!" You speak up, more than ready to find a solution to all of this.

"Hmm...and what do you mean by that? You want to know how to kill him? Stake through his heart, you know that much, Slayer." He chides you and makes a 'tutting' noise.

Constantine slams a hand down on his desk.

"You know what she means, now what else have you found out about the bastard? I didn't pay you to work all night for nothing." He growls, but keeps his teeth at bay. He's not ready to get completely on Neo's bad side.

"Alright, alright." Neo lifts his hands up in defense, and continues. "I found only one other slayer who had come in contact with him and lived."

"And..?" You don't think your eyes could get bigger, you look at Neo with such hope for a good answer.

"And...they're dead now. Not from John Wick however, natural causes..." Neo gives the bad news with sympathy.

"Great, so you've learned nothing." Constantine grumbles and takes out his own cigarette to anxiously and stoically light.

"Not nothing." Neo informs. "I think from my research I may have found some field notes about the encounter. It seems that Wick had hunted this slayer, but was finally deterred from killing them. I have no clue how, but supposedly I know a guy who might just have that journal. It seems the other Slayer was really big on keeping notes, thank god..."

Constantine seems to have simmered down with that reveal, blowing out a long held puff of smoke.

"Alright, so who's got the notes?" You ask, once again starting to feel hopeful about the whole situation.

"Kevin Lomax." As soon as Neo utters the name, Constantine is swearing again.

"Not goddamn Kevin fucking Lomax..." He grumbles as he begins to put on his trenchcoat.

"You know the guy?" You ask quizzically.

"Know him? I've tried to slay his demon ass for the past ten years. Fucker always gets the better of me..." He's already headed out the door, tossing Neo a money clip as he goes.

"Hey! Wait up!" You say, quickly headed for him as he continues to curse this Kevin Lomax character under his breath.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Midnight's bar was somewhere Constantine has banned you from, both verbally and with the bouncer. You'd tried before to go and found yourself more than embarrassed when the bouncer laughed at you. Constantine scolded you, telling you it was no place for a slayer so young. You knew this is where the best tips came from though, and were eager to get a look inside.

As Constantine walked up to the bouncer, he held a card, not facing the two of you. Constantine clearly spoke what was on the other side of the card, he was so much better than you at using his slayer powers. When the bouncer tried to stop you at the door, Constantine stepped in.

"She's with me."

"Alright, you sure she's ready to head in there?" He asked, looking you up and down with a face of disbelief.

"She's going to have to be, no other choice..." Constantine said simply, and the bouncer nodded, on to better things.

The bar was seedier than you imagined. You walked in, and saw so many different types of supernatural's mingling. You were surprised that they were allowed to coexist here. You spotted demons, horns and tails all out in the open, greedily drinking at the bar. Angel's sat next to them, soft feathery wings flapping gently as they spoke. Vampire's danced and a few turned to look at you, smelling the air as you walked in.

"Is it safe for me to be here...?" You asked, now seeing why Constantine didn't want you to come earlier.

"There is a strict rule of peace here. That doesn't mean a demon or a vampire couldn't tempt you into saying 'yes' to whatever sick ideas they cook up." He says over his shoulder at you as he walks.

"So if they say yes..." You say as you eye a vampire slowly draining a young angel in a dark corner of the bar.

"Then you're free game." Constantine says with distaste for the sight you're looking at.

"Oh..." You say nothing else and follow him into a back room.

He goes through velvet doorways until he comes to one with the words "Mr. Lomax" printed on them in gold. It must be his office.

Constantine pounds on the door.

When it opens, you're surprised to see that the demon is younger, maybe early thirties by his look. He's well dressed, a black, expensive looking suit with snake skin cowboy boots as well. He smiles widely, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.

"Well, howdy there Constantine, come for another round?" His speech is filled with a southern drawl, the sound warm and full. He seems cocky, especially with how he meets Constantine.

"Not now, Lomax." Constantine seems put out by the demon. "I've come to ask you a favor."

"A favor! Out of my dear old slayer friend? From little ol' me? Why...I never!" He sure was dramatic. He really was ready to make this hard on Constantine.

"It's not for me, it's for her." Constantine nods to you, and you see the demon's eyes run across your body. You shiver as your mind finds itself fantasizing about what's under that suit of his, then shake it off, knowing his black eyes are making the thoughts dance around in your pretty little head.

"Well, anything for a pretty woman such as yourself, darlin'..." He winks and let's the two of you into his office.

It's black, with shades of brown and red sometimes making it into the design. Gold accents any metal and you get the sense Mr. Lomax enjoys the finer things in life. You sit down next to Constantine in chairs across the desk. The demon props those cowboy boots up on the desk and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"Well, what can Mr. Lomax do for you?" He says, seeming relaxed and cocky.

"We have the need for a journal. I know you love collecting different magical items, and I heard you might have it." Constantine speaks as if he's playing a game of poker with the other man, never quite letting him see everything.

"And what journal might that be?" Mr. Lomax raises an eyebrow and chews thoughtfully on his toothpick.

"That of a slayer who had an encounter with John Wick." Constantine says carefully, unsure if he is giving away too much.

"Please tell me you haven't gotten mixed up with thee John Wick, Constantine..." The demon sits up, taking his feet off the desk and leaning in with concern. He puts the toothpick down in a nearby golden ashtray.

"We just need the journal." Constantine tries not to get off topic.

The demon then looks at you, and looks back at Constantine, then doubles back to you. A grin swipes across his face. He slaps his knee and laughs.

"Don't tell me...SHE'S got John's attention!" Kevin laughs and Constantine says nothing. "She DOES! Oh my..."

Mr. Lomax looks at you with pity.

"Oh, dear. You've barked up the wrong tree, one that you can't even see what lurks at the top, haven't you?" He scans your face with interest. "Of course Wick is after you, you look just like her..."

He says the last part softly then sighs. Constantine seems to be getting irritated by the whole thing.

"Look, we need the book. That's all. Not your commentary." Constantine's words are pointed.

"Constantine...you'll need more help than just a book. Let me see what I can do for you." Suddenly, the devilish man is much softer as he speaks.

He picks up his phone and rings for someone, then when they answer, asks for the journal to be brought. He sets the phone down carefully and looks at the two of you with concern.

"It won't be easy, what you're going to need to do, darlin'..." He addresses you again, his hands neatly folded on the dark, wooden desk.

"And what is that...?" You say with confusion, glancing at Constantine for help, but he's lighting another cigarette angrily.

"Well, you'll have to find his soft spot. But doing that to someone like John Wick is no easy task." He seems to be trying to gently tell you.

"What are you on about? Just get it out!" You've become fed up with the games and running about. You want to know how to defeat John Wick and now!

"Well, my dear...You'll have to seduce him." He says plainly with a sigh, as if there's no other answer.

"SEDUCE him? What kind of advice is that!" you spit, throwing your hands in the air. "Oh yes, let me go ahead and seduce thee Baba Yaga!"

You say the last part with sarcasm that could rival Constantine's, and they both look at each other before Constantine sighs.

"I was afraid this might happen..." He starts, smoke slipping out of his lips slowly.

"What!" You look at him with fury, your face reddening. "You're kidding me, you knew??"

"When I found out it was John Wick, and he had let you go...well, I had heard of this happening before, but only under one circumstance." Constantine says, his voice regretful from not confiding in you sooner.

"And that is?" You growl back at him, still so confused and angry.

Before he can respond, there is a knock at the door, and Mr. Lomax gets up to answer. A young woman hands him a book and he thanks her with a smile. He turns back to you two, holding up the book.

"This might answer your question... It's the diary of Elena, a once fellow slayer..." He says, holding out the book to you. "Flip until you find the photos..."

You do so and you heart drops. You look up at the two men, more confused than ever before, staring back down at the picture when they offer you nothing. What you see is, well, yourself.

That is to say, if you had been photographed in the late 1800s. And when you turn the page, there you are again, in a different decade. It continued on, until the last one, in the 90s. It could have been your mother, or a sister you didn't know you had, the women all looked so close to you. But you had never seen any of them in your life. What was this supposed to mean?

"I don't..." You start, then look up again to see the pity in both men's eyes, Constantine's more than just pitiful, but frightened as well.

"Do you believe in reincarnation, darlin'?" Mr. Lomax speaks, being able to break the news to you better than Constantine could ever.

"You've got to be kidding!" You say, standing without realizing it, completely in disbelief.

"Afraid not..." Mr. Lomax clears his throat before continuing. "You see, John Wick once took a wife. Her name was Helen. They lived a life of happiness, or so I've heard. That was until she was taken from him."

"And then what? She's just been reincarnating since?" You still can't believe what's being shared with you, and Constantine stands to steady you, your body shaking without realizing.

"Yes..." Constantine's rough voice whispers next to you. "And now that he's found you again, he won't let up until he has you..."

"But why would he want to harm me if that's true?" You say softly, looking back down at the photographs.

"A life of eternal pain and damnation can drive a man mad..." Mr. Lomax begins. "Believe me, I know."

You feel yourself sinking into Constantine deeper as the reality of all of this hits you harder. His body is lean, and chillier than you expected. He wraps an arm around your waist and holds you up.

"So, you're serious then. I have to seduce him and find his weak spot..." You whisper to no one in particular, your thoughts running from your mouth.

"If you need any help figuring out how to seduce a man, I am always at your service..." Kevin smiles and winks once more and Constantine shoots him a glare that could kill.

"Thank you for your help, but we will be on our way." Constantine said through gritted teeth as his hands moved to your shoulders to guide you out.

"Suit yourself! You were more than welcome to join in, Connie!" Kevin calls from his desk, once again alluding his incubus tendencies.

You two are already out the door however, and Constantine is grumbling about how he could kill "that idiot" in a heartbeat. You vaguely wonder about their history, but are more preoccupied with your place in all this.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Constantine drops you back off at your apartment, and of course, goes off on his own to try and figure all of this out. You're not surprised he thinks you're too fragile to bring with him, but you wish he would let you handle your own fate a bit more. You also wish he wouldn't leave you alone right now when you need him so much. You wish you could tell him how deeply you feel for him, and how safe he makes you feel, but that's not something you think you can talk about with him. You're scared, and worst of all, you're scared if you show it too much and lean too heavy on him, Constantine might just run off. You know in your heart it's unlikely, but any attempt you'd made in the past to get close to him than the arms length he keeps you at, has been met with a frosty nature.

You sigh, trying to get your mind off Constantine.

You end up at your computer desk, your desk lamp illuminating the journal, and you begin to look into what Elena may be able to tell you...

"October 24th, 1992.

My heart is beating so fast, even now, as I write this. I know what I am doing is wrong, but John is irresistible. That man, no monster, has overtaken my mind, body, and soul. I feel such a deep connection with him, and I know Slayer's are not to mingle with the creatures they're supposed to kill, but how could I not?

He floods my mind, even when I sleep, and I dream of being her once more. The real Helen, the Helen that John originally fell in love with. That's the only reason he continues to torment me as such. If only there were a way to exorcise her spirit from my body, or split our souls from one another. I wonder still, if he would have nothing to do with me after, or if he can truly love the me I really am..."

You feel chills run down your spine. You wonder if Helen had the right idea. Are you two souls fused as one? Or are you simply Helen's soul that has forgotten where she came from? You wonder if Neo would be able to help with this at all, but read on nonetheless.

" October 27th, 1992.

My worst fears have come true. John feels for me, my soul, my mind, nothing. He only desires to break into my mind to restore his former love, Helen, into me. I feel so used. But I still feel love for him all the same and it hurts even more to know this. I need to talk to someone who knows about all this past life stuff, then maybe I can find my answers.

Either way, he beckons me, every night polluting my dreams with promises of love that I know are not true.

I need to speak with Helen. "

You wonder if John plans the same with you, and you feel sick. How easy it has been for him to play with you. And you have done nothing to stop it.

You go to the last entry.

"October 31th, 1992.

I held a mirror in front of the candle, just like the old witch informed me to do. I watched as the light flickered over my face, and finished the incantation she had told me. What I saw frightened me to my core. I saw my face change, subtly, then all at once I was someone else. Someone who was breathing different breaths, and thinking different thoughts. I called out to her, and asked her what she wanted from me.

She said "Do not be led into temptation, for my husband's heart hath grown wicked with grief and time. Save him, or save yourself. You cannot do both in this lifetime..."

I chose to save myself."

You stare at the page, then reread it to make sure you've truly understand what's being said. You wonder what she could have meant, and something deep inside of you stirs, it already knows.

You must decide the same for yourself.

Your curtains flutter at your window, and you feel a pull in your heart. You walk slowly over, peeking out into the cold night, and you know he's calling you. He can feel it, the part of you that's awakening after so long. And he wants you all the more for it. You gaze out into the darkness, and think you see the shape of him, of glowing red eyes that watch you with a thirst that's been building for ages. When you look deeper, you can only see shadows, and John's presence in your mind fades and dulls, but doesn't vanish.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

That night, you dream of him. His hands are on your body, but they don't take from you. They touch you softly, sweetly, and when you moan, it is in her voice. You see the memory, and see how different John used to be. His face holds no darkness, only love, and he whispers such sweet things to you as he kisses up your body. You don't feel the terror in your flesh as you did the night you met him. Instead you feel a love that seals up that hole inside of you. You've been searching for this your whole life. That's why you never ended up with anyone else, you couldn't. Not when half of your heart was taken by another. Not when her half of you will always be in love with John.

You dream of tenderness and light filled touches, and when you awaken, you feel so confused on what you're supposed to do.

You know John Wick is not going to go back to that, not easily at least.

And a part of you feels guilty for how much you wanted that feeling, that feeling of being so wanted and loved by John, when you know you also love another. You lay there in bed, contemplating what to do.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You go to Neo on your own. He's the only person you know who wouldn't question your morality on the matter. You arrive at his apartment once more, and he looks you over with curiosity.

"You're different." He says plainly, eyes searching over your body.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Your hands cross over your chest as you ask.

"Nothing." he starts with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe everything depending on your view."

"I don't have time for games, Neo. Please just help me with what I called you about." Your anxiety rises by the minute, and you start to feel like Constantine the way you're short with Neo right now.

"It's just...your aura's different." He keeps inspecting you and you remember that he is, indeed, apart of a long line of witches. "It's as if there's two colors dancing for dominance right now."

"I think I can guess why..." You say, looking to the floor as your fears are being realized.

"Ah, yes. The reincarnation you talked about on the phone..." Neo looks about his computer, the stands, trying to find something specific in his room.

"Here, come, sit..." He motions to a small table topped with a velvet cover.

You sit in a chair that's since better days, and finally Neo returns, sitting next to you. He lights a candle in the middle of the table and pulls out a deck of cards.

"I said I don't want to play any more games-" You begin, and Neo cuts you off with a look.

You keep your mouth shut and wait for him to help you. He lights a stick of incense, the smell deep and warm, you watch as he waives it across the deck, then himself, then you. You don't question him this time.

He whispers something to the deck, then knocks on it three times. He closes his eyes and speaks to you.

"I want you to think about what answer you're looking for. Think on it long and hard, and I will channel the answer for you." He seems so different than the computer nerd you're used to seeing. You're surprised by his skill.

You consider things carefully, then begin to think of your question. Neo waits, and finally he pulls some cards and places them around the candle.

"She wants you to know that if you're willing, she is as well." He mutters, and you listen carefully, the candle flickering as he speaks.

"That if it's love you seek, you may find it within him, but she can sense your heart feels safe elsewhere as well."

"You will have to make a choice, do you desire to be loved for an eternity, an immortal love that lives on within you. Or are you ready to break the tie and go forward on a new path with a love you may not know has bloomed or not."

You consider the words, and you feel just as lost as when you walked in. You know you should listen right now, but you have to speak.

"Please, Helen if that's you, I don't know what to do here..."

Neo's voice changes, and you feel as if Helen herself is speaking to you now.

"I am a drift, caught between the living and dead, my spirit living on within you, as a part of you. Some of you is me, and some of you is all the choices you've made in this life, all the mistakes and right things that have made you who you are. Please decide if you are ready to join as one and go forward, or if you wish to sever my connection to you so that you may be free. I cannot go on in this limbo, this purgatory, no longer..."

The sadness in the voice is overwhelming, and you feel it in your own chest. You watch as Neo comes down from his channeling, and he looks at you gravely. He says nothing, but looks at the cards laid out before him.

"You are in for a hell of a time, kid." He says, shaking his head.

"I think I know what she wants from me..." You whisper out and Neo nods.

"You do. Now, tell me what you will choose." He looks at you, and you can tell he cares for your opinion the most.

"I am a slayer after all." (Slayer route.)

"I have always felt as if I was missing something." (Sacrifice route.)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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