#❝ it was gonna take some planning to get my fangs in his throat ❞「 victor bonicelli 」

[troublewithvampires]

//i finally finished some art and that's everyone else's problem.

anyway, here are some major characters from salvatore's life pre-vampirism. we've got clarence, salvatore's uncle who introduced him to the mob life; bruno, salvatore's on-and-off boyfriend in the early 80s; ginger, salvatore's first real romance (admittedly rather short-lived in the end); and finally, victor, the man who betrayed salvatore and murdered him.

[troublewithvampires-a]

//ignore me

[strang3lov3]

Halloween Special

Summary: You dress up as Joel for Halloween, and Tommy helps you enhance your costume. Joel fucking hates your costume. God, you're annoying.

Warnings: smut, arguing, oral (f receiving) male masturbation, joel jerks himself off while eating u out, southern phrases, unprotected piv, rough sex, Joel stuffs your mouth with part of his costume to shut you up, creampie, secret Ron Swanson (Joel dresses up like a pirate the way Ron Swanson does), yee haw mothafuckas

A/N: This story absolutely can be read as a standalone, but if you like these two and would like to see more of their antics, they the Mall Rats and you can read more about them in my masterlist ! thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️❤️ btw it is my birthday🎂🎉🥳i'm 21 today! And if you were feeling so inclined i wouldn't say no to some birthday wishes <3

“Why do all of these women’s costumes look like they’re from Victoria’s Secret?”, you ask as you and Joel rifle through the pile of twenty year old Halloween costumes. You’ve just gotten back from an old Spirit Halloween store with Joel, and now you’re sorting through costumes for the people of Jackson at his house. Some are salvageable and in good condition, some are old and moldy. 

Halloween doesn’t make much sense post-apocalypse. If there’s any candy left, it’s all rotten. It’s not practical for kids to trick-or-treat for baked goods and apples, the few sweets Jackson has to offer. So instead, Maria and Tommy are hosting a Halloween potluck at their home. All are invited and encouraged to dress up, bring food. The party’s tonight.

“Who knows,” Joel mumbles, “Just how it was.”

“Did you dress all slutty too?”

“‘Course I did. Turned all kinds of tricks back in my prime.”

“Then here–”, you toss Joel a nurse costume, “Be a slutty nurse for the party.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

You snicker to yourself as you sort the piles. You’ve got girls’ and boys’ costumes sorted by size, and along with mens’ and women’s. “What are you gonna dress up as, then?”

“I dunno. Do I have to?”, Joel asks, “I don’t even wanna go.”

“Too bad, you have to. And you have to dress up, too. It’s mandatory.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What are you going as, then?” you shrug in response. Joel tosses you a costume, the guy in the picture seemingly wearing a sort of hat shaped like a thumb. “Knucklehead’, it reads. So fucking stupid. “Get it?”

“Ha-ha,” you throw the costume back in his direction. The costumes are all sorted now, so Joel bags up each pile to take to Maria. “Do you want any help with those bags?” you ask. 

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.” 

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Depends. How slutty you dressin’?”  Joel opens the door and grabs the bags of costumes.

“You know, the usual. Lingerie and cat ears.”

“Mmm. Definitely stayin’ home, then. Get the door for me?” Joel asks as he’s standing in the doorway with the bags in his hands. 

“Sure,” you nod. And as Joel leaves and you shut his door, his flannel draped over a chair catches your eye. You have the best costume idea. 

–

You get to Maria and Tommy’s around six. Tommy greets you at the door, hair slicked back and wearing a cape, his usual toothy grin enhanced by plastic fangs. There’s red makeup resembling dripping blood from the corners of his mouth. “Hey you,” he says. “What do we have here?”

You clear your throat and speak in a lower affectation, “Shut up and quit smilin’,” before breaking into a fit of giggles. 

Tommy laughs too. “Joel?”

“Bingo,” you reply. You’re wearing Joel’s flannel and a simple pair of jeans, with an exaggerated scowl. 

“Costume is spot on, ‘cept for one thing,” you raise your eyebrows and Tommy continues, “You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.”

“Oh, stop it,” you blush and smack his arm. “Speaking of, Joel here yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Off in the kitchen or something. He’s gonna hate your costume, darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ hate it.” 

“Good, that was the plan,” you smile mischievously. 

“I like how you roll, sister,” Tommy drawls. “An’ in fact…” Tommy looks around himself before moving a hand to your waist and stealthily guiding you to a nearby bedroom, his baby’s nursery. 

“What are we doing, Tommy?”

“Shh, be cool, be cool,” Tommy tells you. He loves your costume, but he’s got an idea. A great idea, a way to improve it. He picks up a bottle of baby powder from the changing table and sits you down, then sprinkles some in your hair and combs it through with his fingers. “Now we’re cookin’,” he says. “Gotta get you that silver fox look, like Joel.” 

 “Ahh,” you hum in agreement. Should have thought of that one. That’s good.

“And–” Tommy continues, “You gotta talk like him too. You know how to do that?” 

“Sure,” you clear your throat and speak in a low tone again, mocking Joel. “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you–”

“Oh, very close,” Tommy laughs, “Nah, you gotta get southern on his ass, sweetheart. You know what I’m sayin’?” you shake your head no. “That’s okay. M’gonna teach ya.”

Tommy spends the next ten minutes running through a list of southern words and phrases, teaching you how to speak in a southern accent. At the end, you’re both in a fit of giggles. “God, sweetheart, I love ya. Joel’s gonna shit a brick.” 

You come out of the nursery with Tommy and make your way into the kitchen where Joel’s sitting. He’s at the counter, alone, snacking on some carrot cake. You’re still trying to compose yourself, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Howdy, pardner.”

“Uh, hi,” Joel eyes you and Tommy suspiciously. He does not like the way you’re both smiling, definitely causing trouble. “The hell are you two so happy about?”

“Nothin’.” you say, looking at Tommy. He subtly nods in approval. Don’t pronounce the ‘ing’ at the end of those words. It’s ‘In’. Nothing, nothin’. Fucking, fuckin’. Something, somethin’. “Uh, Joel, what’s your costume?”

“What’s it look like? I’m a pirate,” he grumbles. He’s got an…interesting take on a pirate costume. He’s wearing a plain button down shirt, striped pajama bottoms, and a long red tie tied around his tummy. You’re pretty sure there was a men’s pirate costume in the pile that you had sorted from earlier. 

Tommy brushes your hair from your ear and whispers something. You smile, then speak to Joel. “Well, don’t you look cuter than a dimple on a bug’s ass.” 

“Did you just have a stroke?” Joel squints at you, “Wait a fuckin’ second–that’s my shirt.”

You look down at your shirt in mock surprise, “Well slap butter on my ass and call me a biscuit! I guess it is your shirt, Joel!”

Joel’s blushing, redder than a tomato. His flannel is ill fitting, but to Joel, it looks perfect on you. He swallows thickly. You’ve got one less button closed than what he wears, and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes fall lower. “Where did you even–never mind. You - I told you - God dammit, this ain’t–”

“This ain’t funny,” you interrupt, matching his tone perfectly. 

Tommy’s giggling like an idiot next to you, then faces his palm up by his hip for a high five. You slap his palm and this enrages Joel, who glares at Tommy. “Don’t encourage this. The fuck is the matter with you?” Goddamn little brothers. 

“What, don’t y’all like my costume? I’m you.” 

“‘Course you are,” Joel grumbles. “Though a witch would be more fitting,” He looks at you closer, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?”

“I’m a silver fox just like you, Joel.”

Joel rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do not call me that. I can’t even look at you right now. Jesus Christ.” He eats the last of his cake, then stomps off, away from you and Tommy. 

“You,” a voice interrupts. It’s Maria, dressed as a black cat. She’s so cute. “You two are playing with fire. Tommy, leave this girl alone. Joel’s gonna wring her neck.”

Tommy shrugs. “It was her idea.” 

Maria doesn’t care. She smacks Tommy upside the head and ushers him towards the living room leaving you all by yourself. Tommy turns back to you, busted, he mouths. So you look for Joel. 

You make your way through the living room, check the porch. It’s only when you’re in a hallway that you feel a strong hand grip your forearm and drag you to the guest bedroom that you realize where Joel stormed off to. “What in tarnation?” you exclaim, and Joel locks the door. “This bedroom ain’t big enough for the two of us.” 

Joel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and take off your pants. Do it now,” he grunts. You smirk and begin unbuttoning your - Joel’s - shirt. “Pants,” he scolds you, annoyed. “You keep my shirt on for this.” 

You quit unbuttoning the shirt, “Thought you don’t like my costume?”

“I don’t,” Joel replies. You can see the tent in his pants, how achingly hard he is. You smirk. He’s all pissed off and worked up, a brutal combination. Your favorite combination. All because you’re wearing his shirt. Not really, though. You know the gray hair and the southern accent are what’s really pissing him off. You wearing his shirt is just fine. 

In a fit of giggles, you can barely get the words out, “You’re hard as a match–wait,” you pause, unable to control your laughter. You catch your breath before continuing, “Shit fire and save matches, you’re hard as a r–”

“Don’t have time for this,” Joel grumbles. In one fell swoop, he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, tossing them elsewhere. He shoves you on the bed before kneeling at the edge, pulling you by your hips. The cold air has your skin erupting in goosebumps that are then soothed by his hot breath on your thighs, as he presses sloppy kisses into your skin. “You have no–” he kisses your other thigh, “Fuckin’ idea,” then drags his tongue up your soft flesh, “What you’re doin’ to me, wearin’ my shirt like that. M’gonna devour you, sweetheart.”

Joel startles you by licking a long, fat stripe right up your hot and slick core, groaning as he tastes you, “Fuck,” you moan, fingers carding through Joel’s hair. You know this is getting tired. Seriously. Time and place. But even with his head between your thighs, you can’t stop. You struck gold. “Heaven to Betsy, it seems I have a visitor!” 

Joel sighs as he pulls away from your core and stares at you, unimpressed. “You done yet?”

“Darn tootin’,” You get no reaction from Joel. “Yes...I’m done.” 

“So fuckin’ sick of you. S’not funny. I don’t talk like that.”

And he’s right back where he was. First he’s inhaling you, your sweet scent, he licks another long stripe up your pussy, his tongue soft and firm against your core. He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning into your skin and savoring the way you taste.  He keeps one arm wrapped around your thigh while the other is pulling down his striped pajama bottoms just over his cock, the waistband resting beneath his balls. Joel spits on your pussy, then drags his thumb up and down your core, collecting the mixture on his fingertips before spreading it on his cock. He grips himself tight, stroking himself up and down as his tongue teases your entrance, exploring your sex.

You can feel his shoulder jerk with every movement of his hand on his cock. You wish you could see it, his shaft shiny with your slick and the head red and swollen.

“Good lord,” Joel whispers against you. He eats you like he’s starved, eyes closed and lips wrapped around your clit. His fingertips dig into your thighs at a bruising pressure, his nose is buried in the coarse hair that covers your mound. “Fuckin’ good…so fuckin’ good,” Your skin, your musk, your arousal. He’s addicted to it, addicted to the taste of your pleasure. And Christ, the way his flannel drapes over your stomach, peeking over the tops of your thighs. He could die a happy man right here, between your thighs. 

“Joel,” you cry, rocking your hips against his face. You’re moving too much. He bites your thigh and holds you firmer, his bicep flexing against you under the soft fabric of his shirt.

He alternates between lapping at your dripping core, sucking your sensitive clit, and fucking you on his tongue. Whatever he wants to do to you, because this is his treat. His.

“Yeah Joel, right there,” you whimper. You can feel it in your thighs, your gut, that familiar closeness is back. Under Joel’s tongue, you’re unraveling, coming undone for him. “M’so close.”

“This ain’t about you,” he growls. “Y’got yer kicks already, didn’t you? Teasin’ me in your little getup. Pokin’ fun and bein’ mean t’me.” 

“No, Joel, I wasn’t–”

“I don’t care, sweetheart,” Joel says softly as he works himself. You hear the slick sounds of his fist slapping against his skin. “I don’t care. This ain’t about you. M’doin’ this f’me. Don’t you dare come.” 

But you do. Not out of defiance, not to piss him off further. You just can’t help yourself. The way he purrs and growls into your skin, the way his arm holds you in place so firm. And his tongue, working pure fucking magic against you. Your orgasm ripples through you violently, taking you by storm. It feels hot and electric, intense and overpowering. Generously, he works you through it, licking and lapping at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body that he can get. Static rings in your ears and you’re limp, pliant on the bed, eyes closed in pure bliss.

When you finally open your eyes, you realize Joel is standing above you, breathing heavily. Cock still achingly hard in his fist. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he breathes.

“It was an accident,” you reply.

“Accident, my ass.” You bite your lip to hide your smirk. Joel knows that look on your face. Mischief. He reads you like a book, knows that you’re not done with your little act as you pull him onto the bed, flip him on his back and mount him. He knows exactly what you’re planning. Something about saving a horse, riding a cowboy. Of course you are. God, you’re exhausting.

You reach between your bodies and line his head up with your entrance, then sink down on him. Slowly, savoring the way he stretches you out. It hurts. He didn’t use his fingers on you. But you’re committed to what you have planned.

“Joel,” you breathe, rocking your hips slowly against him. “I have something to tell you.”

“What could you possibly need to tell me now, motormouth?” That devious smirk on your face…he knows what you’re about to say, answering his own question. He rolls his eyes, exasperated, “For the love of god…Go on, then. Get it out of your system, numb nuts.”

“YEEEE HAWWW!” you squeal, and Joel lunges forward to wrap a hand over your mouth. He did not think you were gonna be that loud. The party’s loud, but not that loud. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “The fuck is the matter with you? You cannot scream like that…Christ almighty.”

He flips you over, pulls out of you and rips the tie off of his belly. “My fuckin’ turn, now. Drivin’ me to drink,” He stuffs it into in your mouth, “Can you breathe?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he retaliates. He wraps your legs around his waist and lines up with your entrance once more, burying himself to the hilt in a quick shove with his hips. You gasp, your voice muffled by his tie.

He finds his pace quickly, pistoning into you at a devastating pace. Hard and fast and deep, like you love. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he pants. “You’re impossible. You know that? Impossible.”

You can’t smile, can’t speak. With your mouth stuffed full you can do is look at him with wide eyes, and all Joel can think is god, you have no business being so pretty and so fucking irritating at the same time. Joel’s shirt is buttoned halfway up your body and he watches your tits bounce under the fabric with every thrust of his hips. Your nipples taut and hard, the shirt falling away from your torso and framing your body just so, like you’re a painting, just for him.

“God,” Joel grunts. You wrap your legs tighter around him, hold his forearms that cage your head. You look into his eyes as he fucks you, his usual sparkling brown eyes nearly black with lust. And it might get you into trouble, but you need more. Need to feel him, taste him. Pulling the tie out of your mouth, you lift your head, kissing and sucking up his neck and all the way to his jaw and his cheek still slick with your own arousal. You taste yourself on his skin as you kiss his face, lips just centimeters away from meeting his own.

Joel makes all sorts of strangled noises as he pounds into you. His muscles tense and you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen inside you, and with his last few strong and deep thrusts, he spills into you. He comes hard, painting your walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.

He catches his breath on top of you as you trace lazy patterns into his back and his scalp, his head resting against the mattress. Completely drained of his energy. You can feel him going soft. “Joel, I need a rag or something before I make a mess on this bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees his tie in his peripheral vision. He takes it, 

“You weren’t s’posed to take this out of your mouth,” he says, “Least you stayed quiet for once. Maybe you could be quiet the rest of the night, hm?” he mumbles as he pulls out of you, wiping you down gently with the tie. He folds it up to keep the mess of his spend contained. “You do that for me?”

You smile. If only you weren’t all out of the sayings that Tommy taught you anyway. Joel helps dress you in your pants and underwear again, straightens out the buttons on your flannel. He tells you that you don’t have to give it back to him as you comb your fingers through his hair, taming it. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“You really didn’t like my costume?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiles for the first time tonight, and exaggerates his own southern accent. “Bless your heart.”

You tilt your head, confused, “What’s that one?”

 “What, Tommy didn’t teach you that one?” You mumble a no and Joel hums. “S’a classic.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Well, I’d tell you to ask Tommy but you’re not allowed to hang out with him anymore,” Joel says. “Fuckin’ corrupted you. An’ it’s a shame, ‘cause I was startin’ to like you. God, he’s an asshole,” he complains, “And you are too, for that matter.”

You smile to yourself, then kiss Joel’s cheek before getting up to leave. Before you open the door, you turn to Joel, “Your costume sucks, by the way. Not even close to a pirate.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replies. “Now get lost, you.”

When you leave, Joel adjusts his clothes. He clutches his tie in his hand, then leaves the bedroom, crashing into someone. It’s Tommy, wearing a shit-eating grin. Joel sighs, “What’d you teach her now?”

Tommy smirks. “Nothin’,” then slaps Joel on the ass, and Joel turns beet red. “Yee-haw, cowboy.”

Please please please reblog, send me asks, comment, let me know what you thought! Love your thoughts. It keeps me going and motivated to write for you all.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Can I request "Please tell me you have a plan" in Hic Sunt Dracones verse pretty please ? <3

You certainly can! This is something I've been wanting to write for a while: a little bonus scene from Eddie’s pov, some time before the spring festival.

Come what may

Rated: T

Words: 998

Tags: Fantasy AU; Dragon Eddie; Prince Steve; Platonic Stobin; Hurt/Comfort; Mates; Soul Bond; That dragon is down bad

Notes: Bonus scene to Hic sunt dracones

Fate has a funny sense of humor.

You spend your entire life thinking that you don’t care for small things. Delicate things like dewdrops glistening in the morning light. Pretty things like smooth skin and chestnut hair, glowing gold in the sun. Soft things like the silky touch of flower petals. And then, one day, your world comes crashing down in a cloud of splintered wood and shattered stone and blood and pain, so much fucking pain- … only to reshape itself into something new, with the prettiest, softest, most delicate creature you’ve ever laid eyes on at its centre.

He never thought such a thing was possible. Then again, he only ever heard vague stories about what it felt like, finding your mate.

“Sweetheart? Everything alright?”

He never thought of himself as sweet, but here he is. He would be anything for this boy.

“There you are,” his beloved smiles when he turns his attention back on him, and pats the fresh bandage at the base of his tail with gentle hands - always so gentle. “Had me worried for a moment there. Thought I'd hurt you.”

“As if you'd ever hurt me, my love,” he wants to say, but all that'll leave his throat is a low, amused rumble. He goes for nudging his snout into his little mate's chest instead, and the boy yelps and nearly topples over.

He has never missed his other form before, content to stay this way for days and weeks on end, but now he finds himself longing for hands to return the boy’s touch, for lips to shower him in kisses, to press sweet words and playful bites into that soft skin.

“Hey, careful, you big brute,” his beloved scolds, but his smile is bright and happy, his voice brimming with pride. “You're getting stronger every day.”

“Uh-huh. Fantastic,” says another voice, and they both whip around. Oh yes, that's right, his prince brought his little friend today. She's perched on a rock a little way off and watching them with an unhappy quirk to her mouth. “What are you gonna do once he's back to full health? Have you thought of that at all?”

That smile dims. He bares his fangs at the girl and snarls, but his prince puts a hand to his snout and he quietens reluctantly. The girl sighs.

“Listen, you know I'm on your side, but you can't hide a fully grown dragon forever. Just- … Please tell me you have a plan?”

His mate sucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Steve?”

“Not much to plan, is there?” The words come out clipped, all fake resolution. “He recovers, and then he leaves.”

The girl takes one look at his mate's face and her expression softens. “Listen, dingus, I know you two have gotten … attached. I wish there was another way-”

“-but there isn't,” his prince interrupts, suddenly intensely focused on searching for something in his bag of medical supplies. “I know that, you don't have to remind me. Now, don't you have somewhere else to be?”

She doesn't look insulted at being dismissed like that. In fact, the only thing swimming in her eyes as she stands is sympathy.

“Take care,” she mutters, patting his mate's shoulder. He doesn’t look up. “You too, big guy.”

He waits until her footsteps die down, and then he nudges his mate's shoulder with his tail, whining softly under his breath.

You don't seriously think I'd ever leave you, do you, my little love?

His prince finally drops the bag, sitting down in the grass and curling up against his side, soft and small and warm.

“Yeah, I'm alright. Don't worry about me.”

He grumbles in annoyance, once again wishing for a set of human lips. His little mate still misunderstands him, sometimes. He has no doubt that this will change in time, once their bond grows stronger. Here and now, though, there's no comforting words he can offer, and the thought fills him with helpless rage.

There's a patch of wildflowers growing just next to their spot, bright and colorful and pretty. Following a sudden impulse, he snaps them off with his teeth. He needs to be careful with them, because they're so tiny and delicate, but he's starting to learn more and more about delicate things.

“I'm pathetic, huh?” his prince mutters, pressing his face into his side, fingers absentmindedly tracing the pattern of scales there. “I mean, I know you can't stay forever, it's just … I wish you could. It's stupid, I- ugh, what are you doing?”

His little love yelps as he drops the flowers on his head, reflexively trying to brush them off. Then, he realizes what they are and pauses. His pretty eyes are large as he looks up.

“Sweetheart? Are those for me?”

He rumbles his confirmation, basking in the picture that is his mate. Flowers in his lap, on his shoulders, in his hair. They suit him so well. He's going to crown him in flowers one day, whole wreaths of them so he'll never need to wear the ugly, heavy things made of metal and gemstones that humans insist on putting on their kings.

His prince smiles, warm and bright like the rising sun, and he purrs in reply, leaning their foreheads together. He cannot convey his love in words yet, but he can show it with touch. He cannot return those caresses and kisses yet, but he will. He'll return them a thousandfold, once he's strong enough to shift again, and he won't ever stop, for as long as they both live. He belongs to this boy, just like this boy is his. His beloved may not fully understand it yet, but he does. Their very souls started to entwine on the day they met - a bond that will only grow stronger for as long as they both live.

They won't ever part, come what may.

And when they leave this place, it will be together.

More celebration ficlets

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, breeding kink and slight blood play. Some talks of suicide..

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 5- The Skeletons In His Closet..

“Everything needs to be perfect. Erica do you have the ice?”

“I’ve got the ice.” You check that off the list. “Jerry, do you have the paper plates?”

“I got paper plates, and I got napkin.” You check those off the list. “Monica-”

“I have the baked Mac and cheese and I have the hot links.” You check those off of the list and you look at your friends. “As you all know, this is the annual Valentine family reunion. I invited you all because my grandparents adore you. Now, we need to make a signal so if any family member catches us off guard the others can swoop in and save the day. Any suggestions?”

“Oh! We can fake a yawn.” Jerry suggests. But Monica shakes her head. “No can do, we did that last year and Great Aunt Ethel made Erica sit on the bench with her so she could rest it out.”

“Ear tug.” Erica says. “Yes! That’s perfect. Alright let’s get the stuff in the car.” As your friends heads out of the apartment you stay back and call Miguel for the tenth time. It goes to voicemail which doesn’t surprise you. He’s been late to a lot of functions lately.

“This is Miguel leave a message.” It beeps and you pace the apartment. “Baby, we’re leaving the apartment. I was hoping you’d be here so I can prep you but obviously you’re not answering. The cookout is at my grandparents. I’m sure you remember the address. Just please don’t be too late, a lot of my family wants to meet you, okay? Lo-later.” You hang up and tell Milo to be good…

When you park the car, you see balloons all tied up on the front porch. “Remember the plan, we stay for a few hours and if any of us need saving, tug an ear.” You all get out of the car and start to unload the stuff.

Erica pulls you to the side and whispers to you. “Where’s Miguel?” You huff and shrug. “I don’t know, but if he is late he is going to get an earful.” You say as you tie your headscarf tighter.

“Is that little Tommie?” You turn and put on a fake smile as you see your Auntie Vivian. “Hey Auntie.” You lean over and give her a hug. “Girl look at you! Looking like a little African queen. And these hips! Lord have mercy I know these boys go crazy over you.” You feel awkward and clear your throat. “Auntie, you remember my friends right?”

“Of course I do. Hey guys.”

“Hey.” They say in unison. “Auntie where can we put the ice and food?” You ask. “In the kitchen. Now don’t stay in there. If you do they’re gonna make you help with the fish fry. And it’s already hot with all these black folks.” You all laugh and start bringing the stuff inside.

“Hello.” You call out as you walk into the house. “Tommie! Is that you! Come here let me get a good look at you!” Your Auntie Bonnie calls out as she dries her upper lip with a napkin.

“We’ll put this up.” Jerry whispers to you as they walk past. “Baby go and put that ice in the cooler out back.”

You walk over to your Auntie Bonnie and she looks you over. “Girl you look like me back in the day. I swear I had about six boyfriends and three men trying to marry me when I was your age.” You laugh at that and she gives you a hug. “How you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Really.” You lie. “Mhm, if you want to lie, lie to your boss not to me. But I won’t push, now where is this man, Barbra was telling us about.”

“Miguel will be here soon. He’s just running a little late.”

“Tommie, come here and help me with this fish.” Your Auntie Meryl calls out. “Oh! Uncle Pete said he needs help with the grill I’ll be back.” You run outside and see Erica and Monica over by the drinks.

“Where’s Jerry?” You ask sitting down taking a bottle of water from the cooler. “Your cousins snatched him up so he’s playing double Dutch with them.” Monica points across the yard and sure enough Jerry was turning the ropes with one of your little cousins.

“TT!” You feel a pat to your thigh and you turn to see your baby cousin, Oliver. “Hi baby!” You pick him up and give him a great big hug. He holds your face and leans his head on your shoulder.

You sit there with him in your arms and hear his mother calling him. “Oh, I should’ve know you’d be with Tommie. He isn’t causing you any trouble is he?”

“Not at all, right Ollie?” He just sits there holding your face. “Ollie, do you want to show your big cousin your new toy?” Vanessa asks him. He nods and he jumps off of your lap and goes running. “Ollie no running you’ll hurt yourself. That boy is going to keep me young running after him. How y’all been?”

“Good.” You say wondering where Miguel was.

“I’ve been alright, but you know where the harder stuff at?” Monica asks. “Go to Uncle Pete, he got some mikes hard lemonade in his cooler.”

“Say less.” Monica leaves and Erica follows. “You want one?” You shake your head as they walk off. “How’s Ollie been adjusting?” You ask Vanessa. “He’s been doing great. He still doesn’t talk much but he likes his new school.”

“That’s good. Maybe I can see if there are any more grants you can apply to for him.” She nods and Ollie comes running back. “TT!”

“Look at that! It’s a dinosaur! Do you know what sound a dinosaur makes?”

“Roof!” You shake your head. “No that’s a dog. A dinosaur…roars. Like this, ROAR!” You tickle him and he laughs. “TT!” He tugs you along and you follow him. He points to the hula hoop and you pick it up. You show him how to hula hoop but he doesn’t get it. Which was fine because you just wanted him to have fun.

After playing with Oliver for fifteen minutes he was passed out in your arms. You bring him to his mother and she takes him inside to sleep on the bed with the other babies and toddlers.

You decide to make yourself a plate and you get in line. “Tommie, when are you gonna get married?” Your little loud mouth cousin, Tiffany asks. “When you stop minding my business and mind your own.”

“Oop, not too much.” You roll your eyes but laugh together as you make your plate. You get a few things on your plate and you’re about to reach for some chicken when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“Hola, mi amor.” You smile from ear to ear as you turn to Miguel. “Hello to you to-what happened to your eye?” Your boyfriend had a big black eye and you were concerned. “Nothing, it’s just a small bump on my face.”

“Small bump? Miguel it’s looks like some one put their whole fist in your face!” You snap at him. “Geez! What happens to you?” Tiffany asks. You ignore her and grab Miguel’s hand, dragging him into the house.

“It’s nothing really.” He tries to tell you. “Nothing my ass. Sit here and let me get you an ice pack.” You go into the fridge and take out one, then you grab a dish cloth. You wrap the ice pack and you place it on Miguel’s eye. He winces in pain and you cross your arms over your chest.

“I know you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset, concerned yes. I’m curious as well. How is it that my boyfriend came here with a black eye? What happened?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was a door?” He says with a smirk. “Now is not the time to joke, Mr O’Hara!” You glance over and see your Aunties were pretending not to listen. “Come with me.” You drag him to the side porch and close the door behind the two of you.

“Miguel, how?” He sighs and moves the ice pack. “I got into a little fight, it’s no big deal. Honestly the other guy looks worse.” You sigh because there isn’t anything you can do. He is here and that is what you had wanted. “Is that why you’re late?”

“Y..yes. Amor, I am sorry. Let’s go back out there and you can introduce me to your family.” The hesitation in his answer doesn’t go unnoticed but you let it slide for now.

“Right, well I hope you’re hungry because there is a lot of food and there’s a lot of people who want to meet you.” You cup his face in your hands and you kiss his bruised eye. “I promise you Miguel you better had beat them to a bloody pulp for giving you this black eye.”

“You know I did.” He says with a smirk. You lead him back to where your family is and you make him a plate.

••••

After watching Miguel interact with your family for a few hours you felt relaxed. “Baby cakes, come help me with this pan.” You head into the kitchen with your grandmother and she lifts up a pan for you to bring outside.

“No one is gonna take him from you, you don’t have to stare too hard.” Your grandmother teases. “It’s just, he seems so relaxed like he’s met them before.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Miguel just fits in with the rest of them. And don’t think I haven’t seen the way that man watches you. He stares at you as if you’re his entire universe.” You look back at Miguel and see him playing with Oliver.

“I say by the end of this year you two will be married and expecting.”

“Grandma!”

“Girl don’t grandma me. There is no way that man is going to settle with being your boyfriend. A man like that ought to be a husband.” You sigh and continue to watch Miguel play with Oliver.

As you watch him you get an odd thought. In the thought you see Miguel getting down on one knee and he’s proposing to you. You look down at your hand and you swear you see a ring. When you blink the ring was gone.

You feel dizzy and you almost trip. But you put the pan down and you catch yourself. “You okay baby cakes?” You nod. “I’m okay, I just need some water.” She gets you some water and you look back outside to see Miguel staring back at you.

What the hell was that?

•••

You were sitting on the back porch with Erica and Jerry watching the older folks dance to old school jams. Monica was playing spades with your aunties and Miguel was playing with the kids. “I think this cookout was perfect.” You announced. “Got that right, my stomach is full all I need is a man to cuddle with.”

“Jerry then why fuck are you looking at me?” Erica says narrowing her eyes at him. “Because with those broad shoulders you look like a man.”

“Oh bitch those are fighting words.” They get up ready to play fight but your grandmother gives them the look. “Behave yourselves.” She calls to them. “Yes Mrs. Valentine.” They say in unison as they walk over to grab some more drinks.

You sit back and look up at the stars, feeling happy. “Is that seat taken?” You look over to see Miguel and you smile at him. “Come.” You motion him over and he sits between your legs. “Did you have fun today, mi Corazón?”

“I did actually. And my family loves you. Especially Ollie. He doesn’t take to strangers well but he warmed up to you just fine.”

“I’m glad they like me. Hopefully next year….” He stops talking and you wait for him to continue but he stands up. “Come dance with me.” You take his hand and Stand by me by Prince Royce plays.

“You trust me?” He asks as he sees you’re nervous. “Yes.” You answer him without hesitation. Miguel then places his hand on your lower back and he tells you to follow his lead but don’t watch his feet.

You two move together and you still feel nervous. “Close your eyes and think of a happy place, amor.” He whispers in your ear. You shut your eyes and think for a moment.

When you have the happy place, you move to the beat of the song and Miguel guides your hips. You open your eyes and he was smiling at you as he sang the song to you. You smile so wide, it’s shocking that your face didn’t split in half.

Miguel spins you around and then dips you. As he pulls you back to him, you can’t help but feel your family watching the two of you. You do a move you didn’t know you could do, but it feels like a reflex.

Miguel lets you go and you dance by yourself, moving your long skirt to the beat of the music. You look at him and move your hips as you go to him. To you Miguel was the only thing that mattered to you in this very moment. When you finally go to him the song ends.

“I love you.” You say without hesitation. You then realized what you said and you start to take it back. “Yo tambien te quiero mi amor.” Miguel says with love in his eyes. You hear your family in the background cheering you two on but that doesn’t matter. You get on your tippy toes and you kiss him. He holds you and kisses you back as your family hoots and hollers at the two of you.

Yes this night was perfect…

After you had dropped Jerry and Monica off at their place, you and Erica were walking back into your apartment, with Miguel following behind you.

“How about I spend the night at your place for a change? It’ll give Erica a break from hearing us.” You say as you lean against the door frame. “I’d like that actually. But before you come over let me just go clear up some stuff.” Miguel kisses your lips several times, which makes you laugh. “Baby, go.” You push him back and he takes a small step back. “I love you, Tommie.”

“I love you too, Miguel.” He walks into his apartment and you walk into yours. You sigh like a love sick school girl and bring your leftover plate to the kitchen. When you enter you see Erica standing there reading something.

“What’s that?” You ask putting your plate in the fridge. She turns to you and pretends she wasn’t reading something. “Huh? Oh nothing.” You give her a look. “E, what is that?” You ask again. She sighs and hands you the paper. You read it and it’s about Miguel.

However there is barely anything on the paper. No mentions of his family. No mentions of his birth place. It mentions an ex or two but they had little to no information on Miguel.

“This is a good thing right? He has a clean record.” You try to be optimistic but Erica gives you a sad look. “T, my cousin is the best on getting dirt on anyone. But from what I read, Miguel is a total stranger. Just who have you been dating for the few months?”

You feel a knot of anxiety at the pit of your stomach as you wonder for yourself. “I’ll be right back.” You march out of your apartment and you knock on Miguel’s door.

He answers it after your third knock. “Amor I was just about to come get-what’s wrong?” You enter his place and you take a deep breathe.

“Miguel, be honest with me.” You say to him. “Of course, amor. I’ll always be honest with you.” You give him the paper and he looks it over. He looks up at you in confusion. “You had someone watching me? Why?”

“Because Miguel, even though we’ve been together for months, I really don’t know who you are. And there’s more. When you got hurt back at the restaurant, you had gotten cut badly and I know you did because your blood was on my hands. But a few hours later you were with me and you didn’t have a scratch on you. When I ask about where you grew up you say in Nueva York but you don’t tell me the location. You haven’t told me how you have those fangs and when I try to ask you about your past you change the subject.”

“Tommie, I promise I’ll tell you when the time is righ-”

“No! Tell me now! You show up late to things I invite you to and all you can do is say I’m sorry! What are you hiding from me!”

“You aren’t ready to know!”

“Fine! If it’s going to be like that then maybe we should take a break.”

“No don’t-don’t leave me.” You hear Miguel speak but you already have your hand in the door knob. You don’t want to leave but you need to know why he is acting this way.

He grabs you from behind and you feel his grip tighten on you. “I don’t want you to leave me, when you find out the truth.” You close your eyes and turn with your face in his chest.

“Please, Miguel. Just tell me the truth.” You open your eyes and see those sad hazel eyes looking down at you.

He lets you go and he takes several steps back.

“I should start from the beginning. You know about my work. How I am a scientist and I dabble in gene splicing.”

You suddenly don’t like where this story is going.

“Well, about three years ago, I was working with someone I thought I could trust. He had made many promises to me and I believed every last one of them. However he was dabbling in pharmaceuticals and had released it to the poor part of the public. He had created this…drug called rapture. If you have too much of it you can become addicted to it. I got wind of this and I didn’t want to be part of his company anymore so I told him that I was leaving. He didn’t like that. And I should’ve been smart enough to know he wasn’t going to let me leave so easily. So he had invited me out for drinks and he kept on giving me drinks. But in those drinks he had laced them with ten times the dosage of rapture and I was instantly addicted to the stuff. He told me that if he couldn’t keep me then he was going to ruin me. But with the knowledge I had with my research. I knew how I could break the addiction. I had done the tests on multiple animals, so why wouldn’t it work on a human subject?”

“Miguel, what did you splice your genes with?” You ask with a shake in your voice. He crouches for a second and in a blink he was on the ceiling, crawling around.

You fall flat on your ass and he taps his smart watch that was on his wrist. With strange technology, you watch as a suit molds to his body. He then lands in front of you and you gasp.

“You’re Spide-there’s not fucking way you’re him!” He taps his watch and his mask recedes from his face. “Amor, I am Spider-man. That’s why I’ve been late to a lot of your get togethers. I’ve been well you know.” You blink several times and just stare at him.

Miguel reaches out to touch you but you flinch from his claws. He jerks his hand back. “I apologize, but just know I would never hurt you.” His claws molds back into his fingertips and you slowly stand up. “I should go.” You blurt out. “Wait, Tommie I can understand that this is a shock to you.”

“No, this is more than a shock and I’m about to have a panic attack. Are the walls closing in?” You feel dizzy and he holds you up. But you move from his touch. “Amor, you don’t look to good.”

You feel like you’re about to throw up but you keep it together. “I need to get out of here.”

“But you said you wouldn’t leave.” You can hear the panic in his tone and you want to understand but the panic attack is stronger than your logical mind.

“Miguel, I’m sorry. I have to go.” You manage to open the door and leave his apartment in a rush. “I love you.” You hear him say after you. Before you knew it you were crying as you slammed your apartment door behind you.

“Tommie! What’s wrong?” Erica yells after you. But you ignore her and run to your room. You dive under the covers and you scream into your pillow.

You felt overwhelmed, anxious, and most of all hurt, because if he could hide something that big from you, then what else could he hiding?

The skeletons in his closet were just too much to handle.

••••

You’ve never done drugs before but if you did, then you’d be having withdrawals. You knew he was watching you because there were traces of him around you. When you were at work, you’d see finger prints on the outside of your window.

When you left your apartment, you could smell his scent by the door.

You’d dream about being in his arms, and this was driving you crazy.

Just go back to him!

Your brain was screaming.

But your body was hesitating. Why?

It was after work and you were staying in for the night. Milo was no where to be found and you were sitting there watching Anastasia. Technically the movie was watching you.

You were staring outside, thinking about Miguel. Wondering if he was okay. “This is stupid, you can just go over there and talk to him, Tommie.” You tell yourself. In your mind, you were already at his apartment, telling him how sorry you were for acting the way you did.

You look at your phone and you see he hasn’t messaged you in the past week.

The phone goes both ways. His words ring in your head and you decide to message him.

I’m sorry for the way I acted, I guess it all just became a lot for me to handle. I guess you were right when you said I wasn’t ready.

You erase that and type again.

I was stupid, will you forgive me?

You erase that message as well.

BABY PLEASSSSE!

You roll your eyes and erase that.

As you go to type something better, Miguel’s name pops up on your call screen. You answer it immediately. “Hi…” You breathe into the phone. “Hi, mi corazón. I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“I didn’t think you’d call. Listen I’m so sorry for the way I acted. You told me something very important and I treated it very childish.”

“No, amor. I should have told you sooner. I apologize.”

“How about we both apologize, and you come over because I’m lonely and Milo is hiding.” Miguel gives a husky laugh. “I will come to you in a se-” You hear a loud crash in the background and you sit up. “Miguel! Miguel are you alright? Answer me!”

“I’ll call you right ba-“ The phone goes dead and you quickly turn to the news. So far nothing had popped up. That’s good news right? That means it’s nothing major. You try to tell yourself.

Dread hits your chest when you see a 'this just in' headline across the screen.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can tell there has been a prison outbreak on the upper west side. Some of the inmates have taken over the jail and a few have escaped….huh? He’s here?”

You see in the far background, Miguel was was swinging into the prison and you were at the edge of your seat.

“Miguel, please be safe. Please be sa-” You see what looks like lights flashing in the prison and you think the worse.

“Baby, please be safe. I need you to be safe.” You pray as you continue to watch the footage.

“A source has said that the escaped prisoners have been located. They were encased in webbing. And-” The news reporter goes silent and nods.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to inform you that, Spider-Man has gotten the situation under control. I repeat, Spider-Man has gotten the situation under control. The warden as well as staff are all safe and there are no casualties.”

You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding and jump when you feel Milo’s little paws on your toes.

“Milo! He did it! My boyfriend did it! Oh my god, I’m dating a super hero! I’m dating Spider-Man! Wait I shouldn’t say that too loud.” You jump up and down with happiness and you give Milo a big kiss on his head then set him back down as you go and take a quick shower before Miguel comes over.

•••

You were freshly showered and wearing a silver night gown as well as a grey headscarf. As you sat in your room with your lap top adding clothes to your cart. You swear you’re going to buy the stuff this time. You then hear a tap to your window.

You look over and you see him, hanging upside down. “Miguel!” You hiss as you run over and open the window down him. He crawls inside and he lands on his feet, towering over you.

His suit recedes off of him and he was your Miguel. “Hola hermosa.” He keeps still and you take a step forward. “Hi, you did good out there.” You say as you place your hands on his chest. He takes them and he kisses them. “That is my other job, amor. I hope you can understand that, if you still want to be together that is who you’ll be with as well.”

You give a sad smile. “I can handle that, though I’ll probably worry about you ten times more than I usually do. And what do you mean if? I still want this to work, you’re not getting rid of me Miguel.” He smiles and he leans down kissing you.

He then rests his head against yours. “Good, because keeping an eye on you has been torture for me. Always being close but never being with you. That hurts me more than getting punched in the face by Vulture.”

“So that’s who punched you? God I heard about him, doesn’t he…eat people?” He nods and he gently moves the lace strap off of your shoulder. “Is this new?” He asks.

“I got this a while ago, I figured you’d like it….” You’ve definitely said that before but when? “I do like it…I’ve missed you. I know it’s only been a week but I’ve missed being this close.” Miguel cups your face and he kisses you deeply.

You’ve missed this as well. His taste, his touch. God you’ve missed this man and your body was finally getting its dose of dopamine.

You break from the kiss first. “Promise me, that you’ll make sure you’re safe out there.” Miguel eyes saddens but you shake your head. “Please promise me.” He sighs and nods. “I promise, amor.” You kiss him and he lifts you up off of the floor bridal style and he places you on the bed.

“Te necesito, I need you so badly it hurts.” Miguel strips off his shirt and tosses it somewhere in your room. You help him with his pants as he kicks off his shoes.

Once he is completely naked, he helps you out of your night gown. You lay back down as Miguel lays on top of you and kisses your neck. “Tell me about your day, amor. I’ve missed your voice.” He whispers against your right breast.

He sucks that breast and you run your fingers through his hair and moan softly. “Today…was tough because I missed you…” You get distracted by the way his tongue rolls over your nipples but you get back into focus in telling him about your day.

“….but I…mmm, I got a lot of work done. I…oh please keep doing that. I checked the calendar and I’m due for a va…vacation, Miguel I can’t keep talking when you lick me like t-” You cut yourself off as watch Miguel crawl back between your legs.

“Fair enough, amor. Then I’ll tell you about my day. But first.” Miguel moves so both of you are laying side by side, but you’re in front of him and he has your leg partly lifted up.

“My day was miserable because I didn’t wake up under you this morning.” Miguel says as he slowly slides inside of you. You arch your back and touch his face as you feel your walls mold around his dick. “Eres tan apretada mi amor. So tight. Mmm, I had saved a woman from being robbed. I made sure…I made sure I kept an eye on you at work, oh shit, make it tighter for me, Tommie. I had lunch on the Statue of Liberty’s crown and I saved a prison from being taken over. But you know what made the day worth it?” He asks as he keeps his slow pace.

“What baby?” You moan as he keeps going in and out of you. “Being here with you. Being with you in this moment…being deep inside of you.” He slows down and he kisses your neck. You lean your head back against him and you feel his fangs gently trace the veins down your throat.

“I love you, I love you so much, Tommie.” He moans as he grips your hips and goes a bit harder with his thrusts but he keeps a slow pace.

“I love you too. I love you too, baby.” You moan out breathlessly. You lift your legs a bit more and feel him go deeper inside of you. You feel him reach down and rub slow circles around your clit and you let out a groan. “Baby, go faster. Please go faster.” You moan out.

“No, no, no, amor. You can take it at this pace. I know you can. I haven’t had this pussy in a week, fuck, I’m going to savor this pretty pussy for a while. But you can take it right? You can take daddy’s dick.” You go stupid for a second and forget how to speak as he keeps the same pace.

The pace he’s going was making a slow and hard build up for you, which made you grip your walls around him. Miguel grips your throat and kisses you deep. “You know exactly what you’re doing with this little pussy. If you keep that up, I’m going to come, amor.” Miguel moans as he starts to pick up the pace. “Please do, please come deep inside of me.” You moan out as he switches positions.

He was now on top of you and he was gripping your headboard as he did deep strokes. You place your hands on his chest and you reach up to pull him close to you. You tug at his bottom lip and your nails finds a way to his back.

Miguel starts to pick up the pace, causing the bed to shake. You start breathing heavy as you feel yourself about to climax. “Ven por mí, princesa. Come for me.” He thrusts harder and you start to stutter out his name. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You groan as your walls pulse around him. Your nails dig deep into his back and he grabs a hold of you and he does two last stroke before he pumps you full.

You both still as you both come down from the climax high. He stays inside of you and he balances on his elbows. “You are amazing. Tan asombrosa.” You smile and kiss his lips. “You’re the amazing one. You are a super hero. I bet you’ve saved a lot of people.”

That comment made him frown.

He slides out of you causing the both of you to gasp. He then lays beside you and you turn to your side. “What’s wrong?” You ask him as you run a finger over a scar you hadn’t noticed before.

He gently moves your hand from his chest and he holds it. “My job, is just like anyone else’s who has to deal with the public. I have good days and I have bad days. In your eyes I am this amazing person, but amor. There will be days that I will come home to you and I’ll have to have let someone die. This job isn’t full of rewards.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I figured you don’t have anyone to talk to about this.” You offer. “You don’t have to amor. I don’t want to bring you such sadness.”

You sit up and sit criss cross. “Miguel, I have my sad days. Just like you. If there is one thing I can tell you is that, I understand loss. I love my grandparents, I do. But I’ll never have my dad walk me down the aisle. I’ll never have my mom guide me into motherhood. It took a few years of therapy and counseling to tell me that it wasn’t my fault that they passed. Even though I thought it was….” You look down at your fingers and let out a breath you know you’ve been holding since your were thirteen.

“…I was so angry with my parents. Over a missed event, over some play I don’t remember. But I remember that I was angry with them because they told me they wouldn’t be home in time to be with me. I went to bed angry. But when I woke up, my grandparents had told me the news. I felt that because I went to bed angry it was my fault that they were gone. I had so much…anger inside of me. That I had came to hate myself. And you know what they said when you’re an intelligent person. You tend to know how to do dangerous things.”

You look up at Miguel and you close your eyes. “My grandfather found me and I was rushed to the hospital. They had pumped my stomach and I got lectured that my parents wouldn’t have wanted me to take my own life. And I’m not telling you this for sympathy. No, I’m telling you this because I know what it’s like to have bad days, and I was happy later on when I had someone to talk to about it. So, Miguel let me be that person for you. Don’t bottle it up, if you have a bad super hero day then tell me. If you need a hug then my arms are always opened for you.” Miguel sits up and he pulls you into his arms.

“Thank you, Tommie. This helps.” He kisses your temple and you let a yawn escape. “Let’s get some rest.” You nod and grab the sheets and pull it over the two of you.

Miguel pulls you on top of him and you let your head rest on his chest. “Baby, what spider did you splice yourself with?” You ask feeling sleepy.

You feel him stroke a hand against your shoulder and he looks down at you. “If I tell you, you’ll have nightmares. Just know that it isn’t deadly. Well it’s only deadly when threatened.” He gives a soft chuckle and you rub your face into his chest. “Good night.” You whisper as you take a deep breathe and fall asleep in Miguel’s arms…

Previously, Next

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Curiosity Part 1

Summary: Reader wanders into a sketchy part of the city and curiosity is her greatest temptor.

TW/CW: None that I know of. Reader x Mafia/Vampire!Colby Brock eventually.

Requested?: Nope

A/N: This started as a creative writing prompt and somehow turned into an imagine bc I have nothing but Colby Brock on my brain lately lol.

A/N: Fucking adorable little shit.

Y/N's POV

As the sun sets over the harbor, the lights of the city came on, one by one. I shiver, pulling my thin hoodie tighter around my body. I know it’s stupid of me to be out this late, especially in this part of town, but I need to. It began as a need for fresh air but has since turned into a need for adventure. Everyone around me always said this side of the city was dangerous and I want to see it for myself. As I wander the dimly lit streets, eyes scanning for any signs of danger, I begin to think everyone is being dramatic.

I'm not scared in the slightest. My plan is to take off sprinting toward my apartment at the first inkling that I'm in trouble. I'll be fine, right?

I might have been fine had I not wandered down that one street that led me to that one section of shipping containers that led me to that one alleyway. I jump as a smooth voice speaks from the shadows, “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ out here?”

I look in the direction of the voice, knowing I should run but curiosity keeps my feet cemented in place. Dropping my face into a disinterested gaze, I respond, “Just getting some air. How ‘bout you?”

From the darkness emerges a tall, blonde man, “You’re brave aren’t you?”

I force myself to stay calm and look into the blue eyes of the stranger before me, “Depends on who you ask,” I shrug.

The stranger tilts his head slightly and grins, “He’s gonna love you,” he mutters to himself but I still catch it. My heart leaps to my throat at the seemingly ever-growing grin on his face as he steps closer, never daring to drop eye contact and I can’t seem to look away either. “You’re coming with me, Princess,” he states before turning to walk back down the alleyway.

My feet follow of their own accord. No matter how hard I try to turn the other way and take off running, my body won’t cooperate. I scan ahead of me, trying to discern where the man may be leading me but all I can see is dingy brick walls and busted trash bags. Finally, he speaks again, “Here we are,” stopping in front of a decrepit door with a rusty “keep out” sign hanging front and center. I try and fail to speak as he knocks a pattern into the wooden door.

Promptly, it swings open revealing another man, this one smiles at me and bows, “Come on in.” As I step across the threshold with Blondie following closely behind, I can’t hide the shocked look on my face, swearing I saw fangs on the man who welcomed us in. Shaking my head I mentally deem it an alternative fashion choice and return my attention to my surroundings. Muffled, bass-filled music can be heard from behind the walls around me. Somehow, my feet seem to know exactly where to take me.

The black walls of the hallway are covered in all kinds of spooky and music-related memorabilia. The plush deep purple carpet is a striking contrast to the darkness of the hall. As I round a corner, the room opens up into a sort of speakeasy. I stop in my tracks as the group at the bar pauses their silly antics and turns to look at me. I can feel the urge to bolt out of the room once again but one of the bar patrons calls out, “Whatcha got here Sam?”

The blonde stranger I met what seems like hours ago steps out from behind me and toward the bar, taking a seat, “Found her wandering around the container yard. Didn’t immediately bolt like the others typically do.”

The previous speaker raises his eyebrows in shock before plastering a big, bright smile across his face. My heart does a quick flutter as he watches me and with a few snickers around the group, it’s almost like they heard it.

He doesn’t speak again for quite some time which allows me to fully take in the group before me. The blonde who had brought me in off the streets, now known as Sam, orders a drink from the bartender before nudging and whispering to the one who had welcomed us in, who laughs heartily before shifting his gaze to the one staring me down. This one looks almost devilish yet so charming in his purple button-up and black leather pants. The chain necklaces he wears brush his exposed collarbone and the rings adorning his hands send naughty thoughts through my mind. I shake my head before taking in his striking blue eyes and dark fluffy hair. These men look nothing like what everyone warned me would be awaiting me on this side of the city.

I'm pulled from my thoughts as the dark-haired man speaks up, “What’s your name, Sweetheart?”

My throat is dry and I struggle to keep my voice steady as I speak up, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Several in the group chuckle including the main speaker who replies, “I would. That’s why I asked.” His voice is deep and velvety smooth. The kind of voice that could rile me up but still talk me to a peaceful sleep as well. There is a hint of mischief in his words and yet he remains gentle.

“That’s for me to know and you not to find out,” I state, sounding braver than I feel. I find myself wanting to melt before this man and I don't even know his name yet. Feigning disinterest once again, I add, “Can someone kindly show me to the exit?”

The man before you looks at Sam with an impressed expression on his face, “Quite brave isn’t she?”

Sam looks at me and shrugs with a smile on his face, “Depends on who you ask,” the call back to before unknown to the others but sticking out clearly to me, “Or at least that’s what she says.”

The other man looks back to me, “Here, I’ll go first. My name is Colby. Your turn,” he motions to me before taking a sip of his drink.

I mentally debate with myself between lying or telling the truth before landing on, “(Y/N).”

Colby tilts his head and grins at me, “See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” The door greeter whispers something to Sam which draws Colby’s attention away from me immediately making me want it back. Colby gives the man a disapproving look, “Jake, you know we can hear you, why bother whispering?” Jake simply shrugs.

I yawn and stretch my arms above my head, “It’s getting late, I think I’ll be going now.”

In the blink of an eye, Colby is right in front of me tilting my chin up with his thumb and pointer finger to lock eyes with me, “That’s entirely your decision but I think you and I both know you’d rather stay.”

Despite my racing heart, my voice remains disinterested and steady, “What makes you think I wanna stay here in this dingy speakeasy when I could be at home in my warm bed getting some shuteye?”

Colby grins, “Because you’re too damn intrigued to leave now. You haven’t taken your eyes off me since you walked in and don’t think I didn’t notice these pretty lips pout when I looked away from you,” he marks the end of his response by brushing his thumb over my bottom lip.

My heart skips a beat at his actions and the fact he saw right through me makes me want to give in completely. I don't. I step back and turn toward the door instead, “I’ll just see myself out.”

Colby’s hand drops to his side as I hear Jake laugh behind me, “She didn’t deny his statement.” I exit the building successfully despite every bone in my body screaming at me to turn back around and run into his arms. Despite my heart feeling a little heavier, I make my way back to my apartment. As I crawl into bed sometime later, I replay the night’s events in my head. I can’t seem to get Colby out of my head and unbeknownst to me, he can’t shake me from his thoughts either. I promise myself that I won’t go looking for him again but that’s a promise I'll soon break. Curiosity might’ve killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back after all.

Masterlist

More Colby Brock Imagines

[mahs-dumpster]

a/n: I don't have a title for this one and for some reason I'm kinda shy about this so. I'll just post this and move on. Yup. Uhh tagging @4necdote bc I mentioned this to her

cw: fellow honest should be a content warning tbh; oc x canon (Maisie x Fellow); possibly ooc because I still haven't read Playful Land

words: around 1k

He couldn't take his eyes off of her, not after hearing her sing so beautifully on that stage. Her voice was high pitched, but it was soft and almost heavenly, it almost never went off tone, whenever a mistake was made she covered up so masterfully and wonderfully that it made it seem like the song was being improved. Every word seemed to captivate the audience — captivate him — and make them hypnotized, in awe of what they were experiencing at the moment.

That's why, to Fellow, he couldn't help but stare at the jazz singer who was currently drinking all the way across from him at that bar. A few minutes ago she looked like an angel, — in a way, she still does — almost ethereal… but now, she seemed human, like she could be reached, and Fellow wanted more than anything to talk to her, to use the charisma he had been building over the years to his advantage, not for a scheme like usual, but to get her attention, to make her beautiful blue eyes look at him. 

He needed to hear that voice directed towards him. 

As Fellow got up, with an idea as to how to approach her in mind, he saw that another man apparently had the same thought as him. He clicked his tongue and sat back down, not wanting to be pushy and try to fight for her attention, not wanting her to have this view of him before he even spoke.

The redhead glanced at them ever so often, curious as to how their interaction was gonna go. He saw as the man’s words seemed to make the cat beastwoman cringe, a wrinkle showing on her delicate features, and a twitch of her fluffy white ears; he tried touching her waist, which caused her to push him away, seemingly making the man angry. It was then that Fellow decided to take action. He walked straight towards the two after asking for another drink, a plan to shoo the man away, but before he could reach closer to them both he heard a loud groan, followed by a sound of satisfaction that came out of the singer’s throat. She had stepped on his foot, irritated with his advances and tired of repeatedly saying ‘no’.

Before Fellow could laugh though, he saw how the guy lifted his hand, his eyes widened in shock and anger as he quickly left the drinks there and ran towards the two, his hand holding the man’s wrist. 

“Now, there. That isn't very gentlemanly, is it?” Fellow said, his joking manner present as ever but his voice was firm. He pushed the guy, standing in front of the smaller woman who watched the situation with curiosity and shock at the audacity of the guy for trying to hit her. “I suggest you better leave. You wouldn't wanna get in trouble here.” 

It was a threat. Fellow’s fangs showed as he pronounced every word, his eyebrows furrowed with irritation. The guy grumbled something he couldn't care less about and walked away, then, Fellow finally sighed and looked behind him, a bit of worry in his eyes. 

“Are you, uh… are you alright, miss?”

“Oh.” The singer came back to reality and slightly bowed, a sweet smile on her lips as she nodded. “Yes, I’m ok. Thank you for helping me out, mister…?”

“Fellow Honest at your services, your ladyship.” He bowed playfully, making the woman giggle. It was music to his ears. “I have been keeping my eye on you ever since I saw your performance a few minutes ago.”

“Ah, I see. And what did you think of it, mister Honest?” 

“I can hardly speak my mind without knowing the name of the lady I talk to, can I?” Fellow said, his hand extended in a silent encouragement for her to introduce herself. The girl took his hand a bit hesitantly, but curious nonetheless.

“Well, alright." She started. "My name is Maisie Bows. Thank you for listening to my singing earlier today.”

“Maisie.” He tried, and realized he loved how the word rolled off his tongue. He hummed as a smile showed up in his face, then he brought her hand to his face, kissing gently the back of her hand. “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” Maisie let out a laugh, a more genuine one, and he noticed her cheeks getting red. She seemed to be delighted with their interactions, not being able to contain the smile on her face even after she stopped laughing.

“My, aren't you quite the charmer, mister Honest.” The woman joked, and Fellow couldn't help but chuckle, his hand never leaving hers. “Now, your opinion on my performance…?”

“It was one of the best I’ve ever heard.” She lifted an eyebrow as if she didn't believe him. “I promise, or my name isn't Fellow Honest.”

“I guess with a name like that you really can't lie.” Maisie sat down again on one of the benches at the bar, retrieving her hand from his grasp, and Fellow immediately missed her touch. “So. You came here just to play hero and compliment my singing?”

“Actually, I was coming here to offer you a drink.” He confessed, walking towards where he left said drinks, offering one to the woman sitting in front or him. “That is, if you would let me.” Maisie stayed quiet for a moment, as if thinking it over.

“I… don't really accept drinks nor food from strangers.” Is what she said, but he could see there was more in her eyes, a certain yearning he couldn't quite comprehend. He’d be a fool to simply give up when he saw that.

Fellow left the two drinks at the bar and called the bartender, looking at Maisie once they came closer. “If not, then let me pay you one. Your choice.” Maisie smiled and leaned against the bar, looking over at the options of drinks and pointing to one specifically. Fellow immediately ordered it and started drinking the one he already had in hands, not before curiosity struck him. “May I be so bold and ask for a dance as well, miss Bows?” 

Maisie turned to Fellow, she tried to contain a laugh but failed, she bit her nails as she pondered over his question, then she looked at him.

“We’ll see how this conversation goes.”

“Fair enough.”

•••

Maisie stirred in bed, the sound of her alarm clock bothering her sensitive hearing. As she turned it off, she sat up on her bed, a hand on her face as she remembered her dream, or better yet, her memory.

Her hands went to her phone, quickly opening the gallery and finding the small folder of photos she was not able to delete. A finger went over a picture of her and Fellow on a date, her wearing his stupidly big jacked as his arm was around her shoulders.

Maisie's eyes stung.

"Liar."

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Still into you

Warnings: smut

Code name: Angel

Why is he here? Why the fuck am I here? Everyone else I’m okay with, but why is Adam Barrett here? Was this Lambert’s elaborate plan to make me finally confess to the past detective? Good luck Lambert! Because it’s not happening. Although being next to him in the van is quite comforting

Brushing against him because of the movement of the van. I hadn’t lost contact with him after he left his life behind. It actually felt like I was the only one that supported his plans. He didn’t know then that I had crush on him, so nothing about tonight should change that

When we got settled into the mansion that Lambert sent us to keep the kid in, I found myself comfortably sitting at one of the chairs near the bar. My eyes were definitely tired of being open. Fuck. Why’d I get too cozy? Fuck. Adam was approaching me with a smirk playing on his face

I sat up, and watched intently. The bar had gotten darker, but my focus was him and him alone. Once he was close enough, he scoops me up. We’re in a room soon, and he’s placed me onto the bed. He’s taking his clothes off, which makes me do the same thing. Once I had my clothes off, he gets on top of me

He takes his glasses off, and places them onto a nightstand. “I want you to make as much noise as you possibly can, understand?” He asked as one of his hands grasped onto my throat. A moan escapes my mouth, which makes him smirk. Before anything continues, I was awake because of someone shaking me awake

Fuck. Just another dream. “I need you awake for this job Angel” the voice of Adam says, which makes my eyes make contact with his. His beautiful blue orbs looking deeply into my eyes. “Yes sir. Sorry sir” I say calmly, which makes him smirk. Why is he smirking? “I have a very special job for you Angel” wait… why is he covered in blood?

I noticed that I was also covered in blood as well. What the fuck did I miss? How long was I asleep for? “What is it sir?” I asked, before I knew it, he has fangs digging into my skin. When he pulls off, I felt woozy. Was he really gonna kill me? After all I’ve done for him? “Open up Angel” he orders, which makes me realize he bit his wrist

I listen, and tastes his blood. I’m so confused. What is h- “now you’re just like me! We’re gonna have so much fun together Angel!” He says cheerfully as I stood up now. All my senses were heightened, and I craved blood. I was a vampire. This was all real life since I knew Lazar was real

“What is going on Frank?” I asked as I hear footsteps. “You’re gonna kill your first victim Is what’s going on Angel” I looked at who enters the bar, and saw Joey. “No…” she says weakly. She was covered in blood too. I don’t resist. My hunger was too strong. I attacked Joey, and started to drain her blood

I was acting like a starving animal when I was feasting on her. “Good job Angel” he says as he’s leaving hickeys on my neck now. I pulled away from Joey to swallow. I let out moans now as he marks me. He stops now, and makes my body face his. His fangs were hidden, but the way he looked at me was him keeping strain on wanting to just fuck me right here on the floor

“I knew what you were dreaming about Angel. I bet you always have such erotic dreams about me pleasuring you” he says in a low tone, which makes me horny. “You do. Some Angel you are: Especially being down bad for a vampire. You even like being a vampire” he says as I ached for him even more. “Sir please” I begged, which I knew how pathetic it sounded

He grins, and asked me what it was that I begged for. “You gotta use your words Angel” he says as he tilts my head up with his finger. “Fuck me sir, please” he smirks now, and then kisses me on the lips now. It was filled with passion and hunger. My favorite combination. He pushes me down onto the ground roughly

He definitely couldn’t have waited. He tore off my clothes, which I definitely didn’t mind as our mouths fought. He pulls apart, and starts to take his clothes off now. Once he was naked, he got off of me and told me to get on all fours. I listened, and soon he’s in my ass. My head arches back as my hands intertwined with his

He’s thrusting at an abnormal speed, which makes me moan. “Angel” he moans in my ear, which makes my insides go wild. He starts licking blood off of my neck, which makes me shudder. “Oh fuck” he moans out afterwards. “You know, your code name should’ve been devil instead, don’t you think?”

“Yes sir” I agreed as the thrusts were getting more painful, but it felt so fucking good. He smirks as he bites my cheek as gently as he could. Blood was drawing from it, which makes him lick it off. “Fuck sir” I moaned out, which I knew made him amused

He chuckles, which makes me feel the need to cum. “Go on Angel, cum for your master” that makes me go over the edge, which makes him stop and pull out now. I didn’t feel tired, but I should’ve expected that since I’m a vampire now. I’m on top of him now, which makes him looked impressed

Now we were on a bed in one of the rooms. He smirks; “You wanna recreate that dream of yours, don’t you Angel?” I nodded my head, which makes him switch sides with me. “Well, I’m gonna fuck you so much harder and better than I do in your dreams” he definitely was, because he wasn’t a vampire in any of those dreams

This was exciting, and I couldn’t wait any longer for him to just pound into me. “You know, you’re not the only one who had feelings” he says as he slams into me. My head wanted to arch back, but he forces me to keep eye contact with him. He’s pulling me by my hair as he’s aggressively thrusting into me. “I want you to know how you’ve made me feel all these years” he growls

All I could do was moan. He’s moaning now as he places a firm hand onto my throat. Fuck. He feels fucking amazing. “I want you to know how much I fucking craved you Angel” he continues as he’s hitting my g spot. “I want you to know that I’m gonna fucking rip anyone who looks at your direction” he said in his low tone, which sent shivers down my spine

“Do you understand?” I moaned out a yes sir as I needed to cum again. “Good. Because that’ll be your fucking dinner” I came and even squirted. He looks down and then looks back at me. He smirks for a second with his fangs out. “Definitely better at fucking you in real life, right Angel?” He moans my code name in my ear in a low whisper

“Yes sir” he came now, and then stopped and pulls out of me. I didn’t realize how much the bed was on the brick of breaking because of how rough he was being. He lays down next to me; body facing me. God he’s never looked so goddamn hot. My eyes scanned the room, and I noticed robes. “Hm. Good idea.” He gets up, which makes me follow along

Once we had gotten the robes on, we walked out of the place with our hands intertwined. What a night

Note: I got lost in trance ngl😵‍💫

[gremlintheslut]

Forever theirs (redone)

Chapter 6 help me mommy

Warning- bondage, cnc, nicknames, mommy kink , daddy kink, overstim

Dead dove do not eat

Master list

The door opens and rhea walks in. "how's she settling in puppy?" she asks not even looking at us as she heads to the corner where a set of draws sit. "we've talked about that nick name" he growls and i can feel the vibrations in his chest. "yeah, yeah puppy" she says finally turning to look at us after putting something away in said draws. "aww, you not settling in well doll face?" she mocks me flashing me her fangs as she smiles widely.

"why don't I get Finn and you two can put her in her place?" she asks Damian. "sounds like a plan" he says holding me tight. I feel weirdly comforted by the idea of someone I know being here. But they're going to put me in my place?

I hear rhea leave. I continue to cry as I am kept still by the hairy man behind me. I hear another person enter the room. I know for a fact it's Finn. I don't want to look at him. "you remember the plan?" he asks clearly not talking to me.

I assume Damian nodded his head because they both got into action. Damian carried me to a bed in the corner of the room. Finn helped tie my legs down and then they both left for a few seconds. I immediately untied myself. I ran to the door and opened it.

Only to find rhea standing right in front of it. She tsked at me shaking her head. "they were gonna go easy on you too," she said stepping forward. I step back letting her into the room. She shut the door with her foot and locked it with her back to it. "too easy in my opinion"

"but, they can't go easy on you now. I'm sure Damian told you what would happen if you were a problem. Sure you have some balls but we can't deal with this constantly. So, I hope they can convince you to straighten up because I really like you and I'd hate to see you go so fast" she says continuing to step forward until my back hits something. Then I feel a pair of arms wrap around me.

Rhea and Finn carry me to the bed. They rip off my clothes and tie me down again. The knots are much tighter. They dig into my skin and I can't move without them burning. Damian comes back with a black duffle bag. He opens it and I can't see inside from where I am. He pulls out a small bullet vibrator and a collar. Rhea takes the collar from him and places it around my neck.

"is it too tight?" she asks as if she really cares. I shake my head feeling embarrassed and self-conscious as I am naked in front of strangers. "I said is it too tight?" she raises her voice tightening it around my throat. "yes mommy" I mumble out. She losens it to how tight she had it before. "and now?" she asks. "that's perfect mommy" I mutter afraid of being hit or choked. "good" she kisses my head and wishes me good luck before leaving me alone with the men.

I whimper as the vibrator is placed on my clit at the medium setting. I see Finn get a bottle of lube out of the corner of my eye. "she's not stretched be careful" Damian reminds Finn and he nods. Damian climbs onto the bed in front of me. He unzips his pant and pulls them down to his mid-thigh along with his underwear. His cock is massive just like the rest of him. I have no idea how I'm going to take it but I guess I have to.

He lines himself up before slowly pushing into me. I try my best to hide my sounds but I fail and moan very loudly as he bottoms out in me. Soon I feel Finn press against my asshole. If he's the same size as Damian he's going to make me bleed. He slowly pushes inside of me. Thank god he's not as girthy but I am still in a lot of pain.

Tears roll down my face. Damian wipes them away with his thumbs almost scratching my face but he seems to be careful not to now. "you're doing so good" he whispers in my ear. The butterflies in my tummy flutter as I didn't expect to be praised.

It's quite comforting. Finn continues to push in until he balls deep in me. They begin to thrust in and out of me at the same pace. I moan as they speed up. I begin to cry more.

The vibration from the bullet and the pleasure I am getting from both of them is too much. I feel my orgasm approaching. My moans become loud and desperate and I almost ask them to turn the vibrator up before I remember where I am. I'd probably be hating myself right now if I wasn't feeling so fucking good.

I am teetering on the edge of my orgasm. "cum for us lass" I hear Finn whisper in my ear. I come undone on their cocks. But they don't stop or slow down. I am so sensitive it hurts. Within a matter of seconds, I'm close again. Just as I am about to cum Finn reaches around and turns the vibe up to the highest setting. I squirm the rope burning me but I don't care. I come undone again. Just like before they don't stop or slow down.

Again I'm on the brink of my third orgasm. Every wave of vibration brings a sharp pain. At this point both Finn and Damian are close. I pray to god neither of them wants another round after this. My moans and whimpers are so loud and desperate that I might as well be screaming.

I can feel the coil building in my stomach again. Damian hits my G-spot and I yelp in pain and pleasure as I cum again.

Both of the men are grunting chasing their own releases. Damian more growling than grunting. My whines only encourage them. Their thrusts get sloppy and finally, they paint my walls with hot sperm.

But they don't stop they keep going and going. I'm at my 6th orgasm and I'm sobbing. "please! I'll-I'll be good. I'll do everything you ask just, please stop." I cry out. I am met with shush's mixed with grunts and growls. I am approaching my 7th orgasm. I hear the door open I look and see rhea watching us. "mommy please make them stop!" I beg wanting nothing more than for this to end. She just laughs at me.

"Please, mommy" I cry on the brink of my orgasm. My sobs once moans of pleasure get louder as I tip over the edge. I am out of energy. My screams have been getting quiet. Rhea watches us for a bit before leaving again.

My orgasm is building up again. I can't take it anymore. I am in so much pain. "please Stop, please" I sob harder and harder as I get closer. "good girl" Finn mumbles on the edge of his release.

I cum undone again and at this point, I would be screaming if i had the energy.

Roughly 30 mins later I'm on my 12th orgasm and Then the door opens again. I know it's rhea. I have lost almost all of my energy and Begin to slip into little space.

my screams have turned into whines and hums over the last 30 mins. I'm in so much pain. "do you want your pacifier baby?" rhea asks softly. I nod my head. "yes mommy" I mumble out breathlessly. Rhea reaches into the duffle bag on the floor and pulls out my pacifier from home. She puts it to my lips and I open my mouth for her. I suck on the pacifier gently.

I rest my head on Damian's shoulder and cry. They continue using me. Rhea watches my face with a loving expression on her face. "adorable" she says kissing my head and wiping my many tears. She looks as if she is debating something in her head. Then she grabs me by the chin and lifts my head up.

She kisses the side of my neck before biting down. I feel her teeth pierce my skin. I let out a whiper at the feeling. She removes her teeth from my neck and begins to suck on the wound. I get more and more lightheaded as she sucks my blood. Once she decides shes done she pulls away and kisses my cheek.

My head spins and i battle unconsciousness. "should we wrap it up?" Finn asks the others sounding distant to my ears. "it'll be easier to keep her like this if you keep going for a bit" Rhea says and they do as they're asked.

"and once your nice and fucked out you can come upstairs for bath, that sound nice?" she says obviously talking to me. I nod my head and babble three quite syllables of nonsense meant to be 'yes mommy,' she smiles before walking away. The rest is a foggy nightmare.

Words-1556

I'm back bitches!!!! ❤💕💓

[troublewithvampires]

//in a Mood tonight so i'm finally making a post showing my faceclaims for salvatore and a few NPCs in his life, some of whom i've talked about and some of whom i have not

as a reminder, i pick faceclaims as a just-for-fun sort of deal. no stakes here i'm just vibing. however if you want to imagine what any of these characters look like as real people... here u go

salvatore o'malley: andrew scott

victor bonicelli: andy garcia

billy whitebread / jason booth: austin butler (moreso with the long hair but still)

izzy booth hernandez (eventual daughter): madison reyes

ginger fitz: uma thurman

bruno martinelli: penn badgley

and bonus, a character who is super underdeveloped right now:

cassandra hernandez (izzy's bio mom): yaya dacosta

[apomaro-mellow]

Demon!Steve & church sex

The devil walked into Hawkins one day and he wore blue jeans and an even bluer shirt. And he seemed intent of taking Eddie’s soul all for himself.

Eddie saw him for the first time on a Sunday. Eddie was across the parking lot, counting bills in the back of his van as he waited for Jeff to be done with church so they could get on with their day. As the congregation dismissed, out walked the newest talk of the town, Steve Harrington. As he shook hands with some of the other members as they walked out, the noon-time sun glowed atop him, as if God himself was giving his shiniest golden boy the most perfect halo.

It was at that moment Eddie decided to have nothing to do with him. 

So how did it end up like this?

If Eddie was the sort of astute person to look back and reflect on his choices, he might’ve figured out the past three months had been a strange courtship between himself and a church boy. Of going from ‘there’s no way he’s flirting with me’ to ‘there’s no way he’s doing it on purpose’ to ‘holy shit is church boy in the closet?’

Those were thoughts he had before this moment. Not now. Not when said boy’s tongue was down his throat and he was grinding deliciously into Eddie’s lap in one of the pews.

“It’s a Saturday, so no one will be here until the evening service”, Steve had said earlier when he pulled Eddie inside.

There was definitely an insane part of him that thought he might burn up the second he touched holy ground. But the flames didn’t start until Steve started to kiss him and even then it was an internal burning.

Eddie’s hands were on his hips, guiding his movements as they both threatened to soil their pants and if this was the sorta thing Steve’s god looked down on, he was ready to get struck by lightning so long as he got off first.

He bit Steve’s lip and the other let out a small whimper and pressed even closer to him.

“Shit baby, you that desperate for me?”

“I’ve had my eye on you since I got into town”, Steve confessed, hands running down Eddie’s chest.

“Really? Well don’t I feel honored? Lil Church Boy gonna fall from grace to be with me?”

Then Steve smirked. “You see me like that too, huh?”

Eddie raised a brow. “Should I not? I see you coming out of this place every Sunday.”

Steve’s hands slowly sunk into Eddie’s hair, reaching up to his scalp. “What if I wasn’t that good and holy?”

“What if?”, Eddie chuckled. He was pretty sure anyone who could get hard in god’s house couldn’t be all that innocent.

“I’m saying what if I wasn’t a servant of God? But of someone else?” Steve had paused in his grinding while he talked but he started up again, slower now as he looked into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie’s hands went from his hips to his ass to make him move faster and harder. Steve moaned his name and leaned in to kiss him again. This time Steve bit his lip, enough to draw blood. When he pulled back he licked his lips and Eddie saw that there were fangs in his mouth now.

“What...what are you?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“Shit...” Eddie breathed out as Steve dove in to leave marks against his neck. He could feel more than see the horns growing on his head. A clawed hand scratched lightly at his chest. “I guess a normal person would have second thoughts about this.”

Steve hummed. “But you’re not normal, are you? You’re the town freak.”

“Is that why you chose me?”

At that, Steve pulled back and looked at him with the kind of vulnerability he didn’t expect from a demon. Like this was an actual human coming out to someone they cared about.

“Eddie Munson. I was made for you. For me it was not a choice, or even a question. It was always going to be you.”

Eddie’s eyes glanced at the figure of Jesus on the cross.

Steve held his face in his hands. “And what has he done for you? Except ignore everything you’ve ever endured?” His hand raked across Eddie’s chest again and then slipped into his pants. “My master has great plans for you Eddie. A fate that is worthy of you.”

Was this what insanity felt like? Because tripping on a banana peel and hitting his head was the only explanation for the current situation. Steve had been the sweetest temptation. Someone Eddie had wanted with his entire being but knew he could never have. Knew he could never even touch. Not only was he touching and being touched, but something about great plans? For him? The idea was intoxicating, even if he didn’t believe it. He could let himself for a moment though, couldn’t he?

Then Steve was sliding down until he was kneeling down in front of him. He had released his cock and was staring at it like that was the holiest thing in the room right now. When Steve started to suck him down, Eddie felt like he understood worship for the first time in his life. This little devil, his own personal devil if Steve was to be believed, looked positively enraptured with every taste he got.

Eddie let his head fall back. It was hard for his brain to keep up when Steve’s tongue was swirling and he let out small sounds that were echoing in the empty church. Blindly, he reached out to grip Steve’s hair, fingers brushing the ridges on his horns.

A demon.

He was getting a blowjob from a demon.

He had talked about a master earlier. If all this devil and angel stuff was real then-

“What’s your master want from me anyway?”

Steve took a moment to answer. And even when he pulled off to speak, he gave Eddie’s dick a few kisses and licks, like he couldn’t get enough. 

“When the time comes, you will be his general as he wages his war on this world.” Steve was still stroking his cock. “When you give your soul over, it will be set.”

“And what do I get?”

“Power, respect.” Then the little minx gave him a meaningful look. “Me.”

Eddie let out a shudder of a breath. He couldn’t even pretend to not be affected. But he still had questions. And Munsons didn’t sign anything without reading the fine print. Not even Steve humping his leg would distract him. It just made him slow to reply.

“What happens if I refuse?”

“Then I will disappear. And it will be as if I never existed.”

It’d be hard to forget the erection pressed on him right now. “Wh...what happens to you?”

“I just told you.” Steve played with the tip of his cock. “Without you, I have no role to play. No use for my master. But if you accept, you will be my master.”

Eddie stood up suddenly and pushed Steve to the ground. Fuck everything, he really was custom made for him. He relieved Steve of his shirt as they kissed and rubbed himself off on his jeans. Those needed to go too. His hands went to his ass again when he felt a strange bump.

“What’s that?”

“I think you know”, Steve grinned.

“Go to the altar and show your master.”

Steve moved and bent slightly as he pushed his pants down, a tail revealing itself. “Look at you...” Eddie said as he walked over. He pushed Steve to bend even more until his cheek touched the tablecloth covering the altar. Steve preened when he felt Eddie curl the end of his tail around his finger, reveling at finally being touched the way he was supposed to. Temptation was hard on the tempter as well. Months of trying to lure this man to his destiny. And finally, he had taken the bait.

Steve moaned out loud when he felt a tongue go inside of him and he pushed back, hungry for more. When he had come into being, he had been given a vision of the creature Eddie would become. Coming to the realm of humans had been difficult because all he had wanted to do was pounce Eddie and give himself to this man. To spread and offer his body to the one he would call master.

Just as his eyes were rolling back and he was getting close, that tongue retreated and he let out a whine. But then Eddie turned him around and lifted him onto the altar.

“You’re really going to be mine?”, he asked.

Surprisingly, Steve found that he was a little short of breath. This was really happening. He wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist and pulled them flush together. “I’m already yours.”

The irony of fucking someone on the altar wasn’t lost on Eddie. Actually, he was getting off to it. Even without the whole demon element to it, he was sliding his dick into the prettiest boy in Hawkins and after this, no one else would be able to have him.

Steve had been told that when a contract was sealed, he would get a vision of the fate that had been decided. He had expected to see Eddie, standing over mountains of corpses, ripping apart his enemies, defiling angels, and setting the world ablaze.

But all he saw as he clung to the man thrusting in him was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

“Eddie”, he moaned out in a breathy voice, claws tearing lightly into the worn vest he wore. 

“I gotchu baby.”

Steve didn’t know what that vision meant but he knew in his heart it would come to fruition. He wanted it to. He clenched around Eddie, making him curse under his breath.

If Eddie had doubted the made-to-order thing, this proved it. He’d fucked other guys before but it literally felt like Steve’s body had been crafted to fit around his cock. Everything about him was Eddie’s wettest dream. From the hair on his chest to the moles that dotted his body and invited Eddie to count each one with his mouth, Steve was perfect. And he was his.

“Mine”, he growled into Steve’s skin.

“Yours��, Steve said as he pulled at Eddie’s hair. He let out a cry when he felt him cum inside of him, completely claiming him.

Eddie felt Steve’s own cum like a brand on his skin and knew he belonged to this devil just as much. And if that meant he became a ravager of worlds then so be it.

@intergalactic-president-awesome

[sseanettles]

For the WIP ask game, oh you know I'm going to ask for more on Ruin. 😁 This series is my Dreamling life blood at the moment.

ohhhhh @windsweptinred yes, yes indeed, I did know you were going to ask for more on Ruin, but what to give you, what to give you, what to giveeeee youuuuuu....

you know what. you have been my biggest champion of nothing grows in corpses and this AU-verse as well as my buddy in "actually Hob and Dream are incredibly cruel and destructive and selfish people and we shouldn't whitewash that, it's a feature not a bug." So I think I'm gonna quickly do some typing and give you That One Fucking Scene where everything falls apart and we hit rock bottom as a reward. (this is a first pass draft below the cut so apologies for any errors or slight OOC-ness)

Gwen has been planning to leave Hob for a couple months now, as it has become clear that this is a dysfunctional dynamic that Morpheus and Hob can’t help but be bound to. She got a job offer at a university back in the States anyway, and he needs to stay here. What she’s planning to tell him (and what she’s practiced with Matthew) is a variation of “Morpheus needs you, and you need him. I need someone who can be present for my lifetime. Because I only get the one.” But then, Destruction comes for dinner. She never gets the chance to use it.

BIG spoilers and long excerpt ahead for ruin (of bitten lips and broken hands). The chapter song will be 2WEI's cover of Crazy for those who like to play along. and...tag warning for gore, violence, and discussions of assault. Talking about Nada's canon gets harder after all the NG fuckery but in light of that especially, I do not shy away from it.

+++++++

Hurt him, the voice, that voice, seethed within him—gnashing its teeth with black eyes and paper-white skin and hair as black as the pitch that filled the throats of animals and men mired alike in its fields until there was nothing left to do but gasp for air and die. Simpering, sickening, make him SEE—

Make him see that which he proclaims he loves in the blackest of mirrors.

“I killed my son, yes,” Murphy agreed, proclaiming the words with something that could almost be called pride, and he saw the flinch in Hob’s eyes as he spoke. Saw the confusion, the uncertainty at his delivery in response to what the man had intended to be context to behavior, not proof of Morpheus' malice. Oh, how blisteringly wrong the low-born idiot was, and when he continued, there was no more Murphy. There was only the truth.

Only Morpheus.

“But I disowned him first.” He stepped closer. Gadling’s balance tipped further, unsteadied. Morpheus’ lips curled, baring teeth like fangs, and he let that light into his eyes that he had kept smothered for so long in this suffocating home: that light of Endless righteousness. “Left him dismembered and begging for the mercy of death and refused him it when I was one of the few who could grant it.” He guided his advance by the backs of the stools at the kitchen island, by the chair Destruction had left pulled out at the table when he had bid his farewell, both too early and too late in his departure. He closed in on Gadling like a predator, like a spider upon a web the humans were only now seeing had been spun about every inch of their home far, far too late. “And when I did grant it?” Was he smiling? Grimacing? Laughing with the tears of the unhinged and anguished in his eyes, with the heat of a manic king? Morpheus could not tell, but his face was doing something, his blood boiling in his veins with the same wild, untethered thing that twisted within him in the way that Destruction laughed and laughed and laughed and— “I did not do so until it served my purposes.”

Gadling looked distinctly ill. Gwen was not far behind him, her normally warm cheeks taking on a decidedly more ashen tone as she stood there with one hand still braced on the counter, near the cutting board and the barely touched bird sliced open upon it.

Perfect. Ill was what Morpheus wanted, disgusted was what he wanted. Enough of this charade, of this pretending. Gadling wanted to preach of his missteps, of betraying his evolution? Gadling wanted to scold him? In the same breath that he championed themselves?  Their journey?

Then, let the charlatan face that which he upholds.

“I damned a woman to hell for no greater crime than refusing to love me,” Morpheus spat, drawing closer still, his hands clawed and shaking. Gadling stood tall, unmoved not with conviction but with the paralysis of the doomed deer in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. But there was no truck, there was only his Stranger before him, stooped and unfurling like a kettle about to explode. Morpheus’ words came faster, unraveled, more impassioned. “Condemned her for thousands of years—starving, alone, tortured, in agony for millennia.” Hatefully. “For exercising her right to consent!”

None of this was news to the immortal; he had seen it himself in the prison of Fawney Rig. And yet, Gadling’s face had grown as flat as stone. He scarcely seemed to breathe, and somehow the dispassionate response only fueled the molten rage burning away the fallen Endless’ insides. The heat fissured through to the surface, turning his skin brittle and fractured until it was tearing him apart. Morpheus laughed, his eyes creasing, and something as searing as acid cut its way down his cheeks as he did. He dragged himself forward another step by the guideposts of the furniture. His hands shook. His legs trembled in kind, and he forced them to steel.

“I let a universe burn into madness because I could not kill a single child, my pride and my principles were to great a treasure to me,” he intoned, slowly drawing his stooped height up to its full towering form. “I rotted in a glass and iron sphere for a century rather than succumb to my pride and plagued the world with my absence! Robbed millions of their lives, robbed the Kincaid family of normalcy and joy!”

He was so close to Gadling now. Close enough to strike him, and he threw a hand toward the man—a damning, condemning jab, as the furnace blew.

“AND YET YOU FAWN OVER ME, EVEN NOW!” Morpheus bellowed, and Gwen screamed at his sudden, uncharacteristic roar, something clattering across the counter behind Gadling’s back. The mercenary seemed to grow taller and broader at the sound, interposing himself squarely between them.

Between the halves of his heart, Morpheus sneered, and went for the kill, grabbing the man by fistfuls of his shirt front.

“YOU!” Gadling grunted, startled, and took a half-step back only to come up short beneath Morpheus’ stunning strength—an evolution he had kept a carefully guarded secret in this prison of a home. Gadling’s eyes flashed, taking him in head-to-toe in the manner of a soldier, a killer, and not a friend, and Morpheus’ eyes burned brighter at the returning grip that seized his wrists on fighter’s instinct. He laughed again, mocking, scything, aching. “My only friend,” he sneered, almost sing-songy, fracturing, and once again the acid cut its way down his sharpening face, “a human who profiteered over the slavery of other humans, the chattel of Africa—”

He felt the shift in the man beneath him. Felt the grip go from steadying to defensive, from stilling to get the fuck away from me, and he struggled to hold fast as Gadling tried to push him away.

“—who acquired a wife and son as if they were naught but more trinkets to collect—” Gadling tore his hands free and slammed him back a few steps with open palms to the chest—his face, god his face, it had gone pale, his eyes wide, red, stop, stop, too far—

Morpheus caught his balance easily; his stance braced, battle ready, to Gadling’s own, and he glared blindly into his friend’s setting face.

Destroy him.

“A GLUTTON!” he finished in a roar. “And yet!” Morpheus spread his arms, laughing, laughing, laughing—crying, you are crying, stop, breathe— “He preaches to me!”

Gadling was trembling. Head to toe, the man was trembling, his face going from pale to now dark with abject rage, his hands curling into fists, his arms tensing to iron in turn, his back heel grinding as his knees began to bend, and Morpheus’ chest heaved. His mind had gone fuzzy and beyond the bounds of control or sanity. He knew where to go next. He knew, precisely, where to go next, where he had to go next, to destroy this man at his very core, to take a sledgehammer to the last, threadbare beam holding his illusion together like glue and tape—

Destroy him.

He took the breath…

Destroy me.

And the plunge to follow.

“And your latest conquest?” Morpheus prompted with a mocking, taunting saunter back into the man’s reach, a chin jerked toward Gwen where she was still ducked behind him. “Is she merely a method by which you can alleviate your guilt or—”

Pain split across Morpheus’ mouth, his lip scything open on his teeth that knifed with white-hot pain all the way through his skull as something cracked, his nose shattering into a spray of hot blood and crunching agony—

His head snapped back, and he hit the ground just as hard, the air and his words knocked from his chest in kind. And as the stars and the tears cleared from his eyes, Morpheus worked himself up onto his elbows. Gadling loomed above him. His right hand was splattered with their blood, split where the knuckles had struck teeth, and his chest heaved, setting his whole body trembling with the depth of his fury.

“YOU DO NOT SAY THAT ABOUT HER!” Gadling’s rage shook the very rafters, echoed clear out onto the street even through the closed windows, left their ears ringing, and Morpheus lay beneath it in silence, slowly touching a hand to his wounded face. “YOU DO NOT SAY THAT ABOUT ELEANOR! YOU DO NOT SAY THAT ABOUT ROBYN! YOU DO NOT SAY THAT ABOUT LIZZIE!” He paused, his breath stuttering, his body shaking so terribly that for a moment words failed him until his teeth bared in a clench. His eyes glittered. “BUT YOU ‘SPECIALLY DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT HER!” His hand swung around to point toward the last place he had seen Gwen, the rest of him remaining fixed upon his Stranger, and he glared down at the man beneath him as if he could not fathom his very existence, as if he were a wholly alien species, unknown and unknowable to him, disgusting. Incomprehensible. “AFTER EVERYTHING SHE’S DONE?!”

What an impressive display for such a hypocrite, Morpheus glowered back at him. He lowered his hand from his nose and lips as he forced himself back up into a reclined seat, balanced on a single arm with his weight tipped onto his healed hip. His fingers were coated in rapidly darkening red, and he felt the blood coursing down his face, soaking into the black of his shirt, never to be seen again, and spattering the wooden floors. He spat out a mouthful of blood, licked his lips with a reddened tongue, and looked up.

When he did, it was not at Gadling.

“Has he told you?” he panted, his eyes dark, his voice a sickening combination of goading and truly wondering. “Has he told you all he did on those ships of his? To your ancestors?”

Gwen gulped and stepped back from him on shaking legs, jumping near out of her skin as she hit the cabinets, and immediately swung the carving knife to point down at him, gripped in two trembling, pale-knuckled hands.  

Murphy just laughed, fragile and mad and mocking.

“Do you know, truly, the man with whom you share your bed?” he pressed and saw in his periphery the way Gadling’s expression changed. “Or has he got you fooled with his stories of woe and regret?”

His final words grew wicked and sharp, deriding, and his matching gaze slid from the shaken Gwen to Gadling as the man let out some kind of twisted, whimpering exhale.

His face…his face was a most exquisite betrayal, as if Morpheus had just plunged a knife into his very heart down to the hilt and twisted. His hands had gone limp at his sides, the fingers still trembling but slowly unfurling from their fists. His shoulders still heaved with battle breaths, those gulping, grounding things that filled your head with oxygen and your limbs with energy, yet every bone in him seemed to be fracturing. Every muscle seemed to be losing its strength, and his eyes….

His eyes were so very filled with heartbreak.

“…How could you say that of me—”

“Were you on the ships?”

Gadling froze at the sharp, wavering demand, his own achingly genuine question to the man he had laid out on the floor dying on his lips. And he followed Morpheus’ unblinking, dark eyes to slowly, oh so very slowly, turn on his heel.

Guinevere stood where she had been stood before, backed against the cabinets with the knife held before her in both hands. But where once she had been terrified, defensive, holding the room at bay with shaking hands, her stance had firmed. She was no longer recoiled against the wood but braced against it. Her eyes had recovered some clarity, some strength, and both sharpened the longer the silence dragged on. Her grip on the blade adjusted, eased from throttling to sure.

“What?” Hob asked.

Her eyes never wavered from his, and she took a step forward, gesturing between him and Morpheus with the blade. The silver gleamed in the warm glow of the island lights, and Hob watched it move with a prowling of disquiet deep in his gut.

“You told me that you profited off the slave trade,” she accused. “That you owned the ships that stole my people across the Atlantic, took cotton one way and my ancestors the other. And I thought…” Hob watched her, held her glittering gaze with quiet somberness. Her chin trembled on her next words, the shine in her eyes brightening. “I let myself think….”

“But the shit you’ve described,” she gritted out and swiped at her eyes with her free hand, “the things you knew they did…” She pointed to him with the knife again. Took another step forward until she was standing alone on her own strength, with no wall to hold her.

Gadling did not move so much as a finger; his breaths grew careful, damp. On the floor, Morpheus grew extraordinarily still, shrunken back toward the floor, as if rendered to stone, and watched all that was unfolding with unreadable eyes.

Guinevere no longer held the room at bay.

She just held the room.

She took another step forward. And she repeated her question, the wobble in her voice worsening even as she tried to embolden her stance, tried to square her shoulders and stand tall.

“Were you on the ships?”

Robert Gadling beheld the woman he loved, with her microbraids and her beautiful, dark skin that smelled of coconut oil and her earth-after-rain eyes and the stray bits of paint around her cuticles that she hadn’t quite managed to clean away. He beheld her height, her strength, her soul, her gorgeous face that had the most beautiful smile and laugh now caught in a horrible moment of realization and denial. Her artist’s hands that were now clenched around an implement of cooking turned lethal weapon….

He slowly raised his hands to his shoulder. Her chin shook and then clenched shut, and she shook her head in a vicious denial.

“Gwen,” he started, quiet, apologetic, placating, and she took a final step forward, bringing him to a standstill with the point of her carving knife.

“WERE YOU ON THE SHIPS, YES OR NO, GADLING?” she screamed.

Silence rang in her wake. Morpheus’ heart was in his throat, his words all dried up inside him as if they had never been there to start with, and he watched Gadling’s back as the man took a deep breath and slowly released it. He could see Gwen’s control spiraling, her mind buckling under the realization of what was coming, the inevitable truth, the truth Morpheus had forced to the surface. Her second hand came up to support her wrist, to steady the blade, and the tears in her eyes neared the tipping point. But still Gadling did not speak. He only stared at Guinevere, held her anguished eyes, held his hands where they were at his shoulders, and breathed.

What was he thinking? What was he doing, what was he—

Robert Gadling beheld the woman he was partly responsible for creating, seeing through her to her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, her great-great-grandmother—to whoever it was that his industry had kidnapped from her home, whisked away to be little more than an animal bound in servitude and cruelty until death. The true answer to her question was a complex one. It was a simple one. And there was a way to say it that would shatter her heart but end with the knife clattering from her hands to the floor as she sobbed and wailed and screamed at him to get away from her as he moved on well-meaning but ill-timed intent to comfort her. There was a way to handle this that did not end in brutality.

But the corner of his mouth itched to smile, to crack open wide like the pavement artist and laugh and laugh until he cried, until he sounded manic and battle-mad and hollow…so very hollow.

There was a way to handle this that did not end in brutality.

But that was not how Robert Gadling wanted this to end. And so, with his last full, painless breath, he answered Guinevere’s desperate cry with the bluntest, simplest truth he could. He gave her a small, sad, I’m so sorry, love, I’m so, so sorry smile—a tragic acceptance, an I forgive you for what you’re about to do, an it’s okay.

He shook his head. Let out that breath in a heavy, sepulchral sigh.

Where you on the ships, Gadling, yes or no?

“I started it all.”

The pause as Gwen processed his words, as she struggled to parse the reply to a yes or no question, as she realized what he had just admitted to, the implications of it, seemed to last an eon. The way her face frowned, first in bafflement, in dismay, in refusal, in rage, in anguish—all the stages of grief switching between each other like a flip book repeating endlessly, mis-bound in the wrong order—it filled Hob’s heart with a sickening lead. But in truth, it took no more than a breath, for he had not completed his next inhale before her tortured countenance made its choice.

And on the floor, Morpheus’ heart stopped beating as Gwen loosed an anguished, desperate scream. It echoed from her very soul, raked its nails up her throat as it tore from the fibers of her heart. It spilled the tears from her eyes, left her eye-teeth bared like fangs, and the grief of generations turned to pure anger as, in a single, life-changing moment, their beloved lady of Camelot moved.

Gadling let out a strangled, animalistic wail of pain as a single line of slicing agony split open his abdomen, and he stumbled back, crashing into the island counter and the stools, as his hands clutched for the source of the pain and immediately found themselves full of something writhing and hot and thick like sailing rope. Something that could not seem to stop expanding, that just poured and spilled, meters of it, endless—

The scream came again, and he forced himself to meet Gwen’s hate-blinded eyes, forced his arms to remain at his eviscerated gut, cradling his spilled intestines rather than defending himself, as she followed him down and stabbed the blade down again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again—

They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, a wet splat of blood and viscera and flesh and bone, and Guinevere was left straddling a mess of blood and gore where once there had been the man she had loved. His gut had been split from nearly hip to hip, leaving his innards to spill out, to entangle his hands and bind them in his own sinew and flesh. Even now, she could see the intestines moving, the peristalsis causing the organs to shift and squirm in his twitching hands like snakes. His eyes were still open, still blinking through the blood spray that had flecked into his lashes. They looked agonized, terrified, yet somehow accepting all the same. His mouth, filled with blood, continued to try to swallow, to push the pulsing crimson from his airway with his tongue to no avail, and when he coughed, weakly and growing weaker, the blood sprayed and bubbled. His ribcage, riddled with holes, sputtered and quaked as he tried, even now, to breathe through lungs that could not expand, could not deflate—that could only drown and drown and drown. His legs beneath her twitched and kicked, desperate for air, for the fear to be gone.

Drowning, he had once told her. Always hated drownin’ the most.

And as she stared down at him, she saw not the individual pieces of horror detached from context, not the murder of a man who had had it coming for centuries, not the murder of one of the founding fathers of chattel slavery, not justice. Not peace.

She saw the crimson-soaked blade clenched in her shaking hand yet held aloft for another strike. She saw her other hand fisted in the ribbons of his shirt, a shirt they had picked out together last summer break. She saw the blood drenching her clothes, her thighs, could taste it in her mouth.

She saw Robert.

She saw Robbie.

And Morpheus watched the scene in silenced, terrified horror from his paralysis on the floor as Gwen’s mask of rage faltered to a mirror of his own, and she began to wail. Her hands clapped over her mouth, smearing her face with Robbie’s blood, the killing blade still clenched tightly in her fist. She pushed herself off of him, slipping on and crashing to the blood-soaked floors in the process as her sneakers transformed to ice skates in the viscera.

“Uh-uh,” she begged, whimpering, shaking her head desperately, “nuh-uh, wh-what did I—wh-what did I—no! No, mm-mm, no—” The word drew out in a choked-back wail, and she scrambled to her feet, fleeing, as she saw the tears falling from Gadling’s eyes that watched her even now. “No! Nononono—”

And, the knife still clenched in her hand, Guinevere bolted.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Protecting other characters from harm even though they know they’ll get hurt with (platonic) Keyleth and Percy?

4. Protecting other characters from harm even when they know they'll get hurt gonna set this one in my vamp machina au! specifically this ask, so tw for violence.

This is his fault. It's the first thing that Percy thinks when he realizes that he and Keyleth are surrounded. There's too many to count, rows and rows of snarling, grinning, menacing vampires, as far as the eye can see. They're melting out of the shadows and climbing down from the fire escapes, and here in this sliver of side street, far from the hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfares, he and Keyleth are well and truly trapped.

He's a fool. An idiot. He's spent so long spitting and snapping at Vax for the danger he brings into Keyleth's life, and what has he done, except piss of a city's worth of undead for years? Of course they were going to come after him eventually, and of course Keyleth was going to get caught in the crossfire.

Keyleth's gripping his arm so tightly he's starting to lose feeling in his fingers. His eyes dart from vampire to vampire as his brain whirs in search of a solution, but what is he going to do? He has one stake and maybe half a dozen wooden bullets. There's no way he can carve a path through this crowd to get Keyleth and himself to safety with that.

"Please." Keyleth's voice is a whimper, a squeak, and he's not sure if she's addressing him or them.

Percy grits his teeth. He's going to get her out of here, even if he gets his own throat ripped out in the process. To the right, there's a dangling fire escape ladder, one a few vampires used to come down and close off that side. If Percy can crack open that line, she can scramble up and onto the roof, where he can only hope there's access to the apartment block inside. He puts his hand over hers, which is shaking, and murmurs, "Stay close, and when I say so, make a break for the fire escape."

In the corner of his eye, he sees her regard him incredulously, but he doesn't have time for any more planning. He wrenches his arm from her grasp and wheels around, the gun pulled from its holster in one fluid motion. He gets the three vampires closest to the ladder in three shots—aim for the heart, keep your breath steady, do not flinch—and then yanks the stake from his back pocket.

That's when they all descend.

He tries. He really does. He gets a few, drops them in a scrabble of teeth and hands, but it doesn't take long for him to realize it's not enough. He can't fight his way to the fire escape and keep them off of Keyleth at the same time. She has holy water—holy water, like that's going to do anything against a horde this size—but with a shriek she's snatched up by the hair, her arms twisted painfully behind her back, and as a fist comes from nowhere to crack Percy across the jaw, his stomach sinks in horror as he realizes that these undead fucks don't mean to kill them. Sharp nails dig into his arms, tearing through his sleeves and flesh, and he is being dragged away, more fist and swift kicks coming to subdue his thrashing. He watches the same happen to Keyleth, her clothes becoming increasingly disheveled as it seems everyone in this fucking onslaught tries to get a piece of her, to yank her further down the street. Through the chaos, he can see the flickering of light as she tries to muster some kind of spell, but it's too much, too overwhelming, and before she can get anything going, fangs clamp down on her neck and she goes limp, her skin going worryingly pale.

"KEYLETH!" he shouts, so very sure he's watching his best friend die. "KEYLETH, WAKE—"

The last thing he sees before the world goes black is the dripping, glinting fangs of a vampire, descending toward him like the blade of a guillotine.

[t0kidal]

The Alef: Part 7 (Start of the Harvest Festival)

How you survived Opera's training, you weren't sure. Between his training, your school work, and honing your own bloodline ability, you felt like hell.

But you were determined to make it through three days and score in the top three, maintain your place in class 1-A alongside your friends, and show that even Alefs deserve more respect than what's handed to them. To change the school little by little to suit your needs.

And despite trying your damndest to go to sleep, sleep would not come. You arrived fashionably late, prominent eyebags casting a dark aura across your face, which, coupled with an aggressive perma-snarl, deterred many from speaking to you.

Save for a special two.

"Y-Y/n-chan!? What happened to you?!"

The sudden appearance startled you and you whipped around, teeth bared, and a growl ripping through your throat. 'Ah... shit'

"O-oh... it's just you, Balam-kun. I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well, too charged, I'm gonna do my best!"

"A-ah, is that the case, well then... I wish you the best of luck!"

It's probably because you were feeling extra loopy, but you couldn't help it and just swept the little guy off his feet in a hug. "You too, Balam-kun!"

"Tch, if you two are done with your display, focus up."

Ah... there's Mr. Special #2, "Naberius-kun. I'll see you out there then." You present, a challenge.

He smirks in return, "Heh, I won't lose to you."

With that, you're called to the gates.

3...

2...

1...

And they're off! Like wild dogs at the sound of the hunter's call, the harvest festival begins NOW.

< >

Immediately, you mute yourself, opting for a stealthier approach in order to secure independent points. Flocks of birds? Take out the fattest. Herd of some other monster? Snatch the oldest. You can't afford to get into prolonged battles with beasts in their prime, so you pick and choose your battles wisely, stopping so often by the clerks' tables, some are able to recognize you.

Part of this strategy was bred from the training you got from Opera, who tried his best to assist you by simulating fights of prime monsters and yourself.

Safe to say, you got your ass handed to you almost every time. But aside from a beat down, if you ever did come across a monster you couldn't take head on.

You learned how to turn the tides in your own favor.

A large pink spotted black jaguar, it's pelt, it's fangs, it's claws, everything about it was considered delectable, differing in flavor intensity, but it's main trait was that it was sweeter than any sugar found in a plant or otherwise cultivated.

And it was staring you right in the face.

You had to snag it before anyone else could.

Immediately, you silence the zone around you so that others wouldn't be attracted. Then, you launched your attack... by running away.

All part of the plan, don't worry. You lure it over to the base of a cliffside, where you had set up a trap in the form of a rock fall, intending to crush the beast.

It continues like this for most of your encounters.

You set up a trap, you separate and lure what you couldn't kill to the trap, and you secure victory after victory.

The only problem was to find a proper balance to maintain energy for the next couple of days, whilst increasing your lead. But, it was still easier than large groups that teamed up to risk more against larger prey.

Running around the way you were, you had to stop by the reporting tent frequently to ease your load. This often left what you couldn't carry vulnerable to other students.

In one instance, you encountered a larger group of students, but unlike that time in the Etho's Batra, you don't have Balam or Naberius to help you.

So what do you do? What can you do?

You wait and you scheme...

The next morning marked the start of day two, and arguments in addition to screams of rage can be heard.

Things like "YOU GREEDY PRICK! DID YOU ALREADY SUBMIT THOSE POINTS!?" to be more specific.

No, none of them did anything wrong, but the conflict between group members led to fights and fights led to disqualification.

Yes, you were mostly responsible... how they reacted to the loss was their own fault though, but by all means... keep swinging. (Not to mention, in-fighting made it so much easier to squirrel away more for yourself).

Honestly, they really shouldn't be so mean to each other in the first place.

[fragileizywriting]

to get kitty’s attention, he whistles.

whistles.

everyone goes silent with the whistle, sharp and clean and short, as it echos between the space they’ve made for this discussion. the nine of them are here, in somewhat of a circle, trying to come up with a plan for… that.

as if answering the whistle, the thing in the forest screams.

even in the middle of a conversation with the naga to her right, her head swivels towards him, words dying out in her throat at the noise of (sas) adrien’s call for her. thoughts of how to keep paris safe; making sure that whatever is making that noise stays away from the majority of human (or demon!) civilization; maybe it’d be better to divert the attention of the creature and lead it into the forest; all of it disappears from her mind as her pupils dilate.

adrien’s hands go back on his belt, thumb hooked on the loops, with that knowing look that make stars dazzle in her eyes.

excitement starts to brew.

“look,” he starts, as kitty’s feet start to itch and her toes start to squeeze. “you have ten minutes.”

“her?” the witchy marinette asks. perceptive as always, it’s as if she’s read adrien’s mind. “but… she’s just… is it really safe to send her? what if it’s a war dog— she won’t be able to fight one.”

(dl) marinette sighs. “as much as it worries me, i think sending kitty would be best.”

“but… why?”

marinette gives it some thought. “i’m not sure. i cant explain it, but i feel it.

kitty is very very good and does not hop in excitement. the beast in the forest sounds frustrated and agonized— a child who’s busted a kneecap on the floor— in pain and in anguish. it sounds hurt. she wants to see the carnage. how big is it? does it have a mouth? how big are the fangs? what’ll happen if she gets close?

“do you want me to go, too?” (sas) luka asks.

it’s rather interesting. the de facto leader seems to be her sunshine, though she will never be sure as to why— her adrien gets so annoyed with it, too, knowing that there’s another adrien here who could be pulling his weight, but doesn’t. he says nothing. but kitty knows that look he gives to the other adrien, or even chat, waiting for their input.

aren’t both of them princes? real life prince charmings? they both should know something about warfare, or at least tact?

“no,” her adrien says, after a long while. “we need you here.”

“can you let us know what’s going on in that brain of yours?” her luka says.

adrien laughs. “not yet. i need to figure out what we’re up against. kitty, go out there, but don’t engage.”

“i’m taking chat,” she blurts out. bouncing on her toes. “he’ll be able to help me.”

but adrien doesn’t like that. “that’s not—”

“—i’ve made up my mind!” she shouts. with a swivel of her heel, she faces the other way in the circle. “chat, you’re coming with. do you run fast? can you keep up? you know this forest better than i will in ten minutes, think you can lead me there?”

“you won’t be able to run in that,” chat tells her, gesturing to her skirts. petticoats. cement blocks on her, weighing her down. “is this really a good idea?”

“i won’t be in this for long.”

“ten minutes,” adrien tells her. tells them both. “don’t engage. not yet.”

“don’t engage,” she echos. “won’t engage. just look. just see.”

“don’t touch.”

“no touch. will not touch. just admire.”

“tell me what you’ve seen.”

she licks her lips. her teeth. her gums are humming with excitement to bite. it’ll only get worse when she gets into hexleather.

“let me go with her,” (sas) luka asks. “she’s too excited. she’s gonna try to fight it.”

“i need you for something else.”

“adrien—”

“trust me,” adrien laughs. “kitty, go. we’ll be timing you both. ten minutes.”

“ten minutes!” she shouts back. backing up from the circle, a face-splitting grin plastered on her face when the thing in the forest screams again. “little chef, let’s go! we have to hurry! chat, you too, come on!”

[nightowlfandom]

Kanato Sakamaki- I’m Sadistic For You

FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS DIABOLIK LOVERS CONTENT AAAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I GOT YOUR OTHER ONE AND I’M DOING IT TOO!  

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

So ANON ASKS

For Kanato from DL ( I haven’t seen much done for him and it makes me sad because he’s a favorite ). (: I could Lowkey do some more if you’re not super bogged down I had another idea BUT I ALREADY SUBMITED ANOTHER BEFORE THIS SO IM NOT GONNA OVERWHELM YOU LOL but- anyway Fee free to be as nsfw with my prompts (if you do them) as you want. I dont have any triggers so- writing them super accurate and sadistic won’t bother me :3

Bruh....Jesus is my helmet...but NOT TODAY let’s fucking go! Okay readers, you heard, they aint got no triggers. So if you do...move it along.

52- “You can’t call me cute!”

80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”

31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”

81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”

84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”

Also in this you and Yui are BFFs because she isn’t some cold hearted bitch (homegirl trips over oxygen, plus I love her lol)

I was legit about to have him spit in your mouth....I’m so shameful...maybe next time.

Leggo!

I’m turning into a Yandere account and I am totally okay with that.

...

“You know living here isn’t that bad.” you mused to Yui. “When no one is talking.”

Your friend laughed as she cut up some carrots. Yui turned to look at you as she prepare to peel some potatoes. “So living here is terrible every day other than right now?” she replied.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong. 

You and Yui were making dinner for the house. After a ambush that landed everyone injured except you and her (thankfully). You had offered to make soup and stew for everyone. They were all in their respective rooms healing while you had prepared everything.

“They really fought hard today, I thought Kanato was about to rip that vampires jaw off. He’s really protective of you, Y/N.” she winked. “I think he likes you more than he lets on.” 

Kanato and you had a very strange relationship. He hated you, but he didn’t HATE you. No one could lay a finger on you, no one could even look at you, even if he said he didn’t care. Reiji tried to and Kanato almost murdered him.

“He then told me that Teddy said I was ugly.” you reminded her flatly. “Yeah he so cares.” you snorted.

“Maybe he has trouble telling you his feelings”

“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” you shook your head. “Looks like the soup is finished.” 

“I’m just saying Y/N, just think about it.”

...

You only had one bowl of soup left to deliver, to Kanato’s room. You grumbled as you stood outside the door. 

“Kanato? It’s me.” you knocked on the door. “I’m coming in okay?” 

Before you could wait for an answer you opened the door and walked in with the cart. 

Kanato was laying on his bed when you entered, groaning in what you assumed was boredom.

“Teddy, tell Y/N that I don’t want whatever she made.” Kanato turned away from you. The scars he had suffered on his back said it all. All for you...

Your recalled the terror in your voice as you had screamed for help as the rogue vampire wrapped his claws around your leg. Kanato’s name was the first to escape your lips as you had tried to crawl away to Yui. You remembered reaching out to Kanato with your strongest hand, begging him to save you.

The look in his eyes was feral as he screamed your name too, grabbing you hand and pulling you to him. You were sobbing into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life for a good ten seconds before Yui replaced him, hugging you tightly in her small arms too. Before you knew it, the rogue’s head had been thrown through a window...

...

“Y/N, Look at me! You’re safe now...you’re safe with me...”

...

“Teddy, could you please tell Kanato that while his pouting is very adorable, it won’t get him out of this?”

“Don’t call me cute! You can’t do that.” Kanato glared at you through hooded eyes. “If I wasn’t so weak I’d-”

“Well let me take care of you.” you cut him off, taking the bowl to him. “For me?”

Kanato paused, his glare softening. 

“You must be in love with me if you’re so insistent on me getting better.” he grumbled, sitting up. “Y/N is in love with me Teddy!”

“Kanato.” you felt your face heat up violently. “Don’t say things like that.” you groaned.

“It’s blushing teddy, how cute!”

Kanato’s use of the word ‘it’ wasn’t new to you. In fact when he wasn’t calling you names, chasing you around with forks pretending to stab you, or worse, it was denoting you to objects.

“H-hey! I am not blushing!” you pouted. “My face just looks that way.” you lied. “S-shut up.” you grumbled.

“And what if I don’t feel like it?” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t say a word back. You were kind of like Yui. You wouldn’t dare challenge any of the Sakamaki brothers. It was a death sentence in every sense of the word.

“Kanato, I just want you to feel better.” you looked down at your feet. 

“There’s one thing you can do.” Kanato used his strength to stand to his feet. Despite his looks, he was tall, and under that cute exterior was a mean and feral beast. He staggered over to you, a sick smile on his face. That couldn’t be good, not by a long shot. 

“And what exactly would that be?” you asked. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t wanna know what he was planning. You were positive that it wasn’t gonna end well either. 

“Get on your knees.”

“My knees?” you repeated. “Why do you want me to-”

“Now Y/N.” he spoke over you. You felt his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t like repeating myself.” his nails dug into your skin, causing your knees to wobble under the pain. “On. Your. Knees!”

Your feet gave out, practically sending you crashing down to the floor. You looked like a dog, on your hands and knees. You appeared weak and pathetic.

You found it in yourself to look up at Kanato. Teddy was perched on the bed, ‘watching’ you two. You felt his fingertips creep under your chin. 

“Aww...” he smiled. “You’re like a little...What’s the word I’m looking for...PET!. It’s cute.” He caressed the side of your face. “Too bad I kill all my pets...they can’t handle me...can you handle me, Pet?”

“Yes, Kanato.” you found yourself saying. You felt like you didn’t have a choice...

and you loved every second of it.

“Bullying you has made me regain my strength! Isn’t this wonderful?” he wrapped one of his hands around your neck. “You’re so fun to torment” he laughed.

“K-kanato.” you coughed.

“Is it hard to breath. Y/N?” he asked sinisterly, that crazed smile gracing his lips. His words were terrifying although his actions said otherwise. He loosened his grip on your throat, allowing air to flow more freely. It was those small things that made you think he didn’t hate you as much as he loved to preach.

“Y/N...when that vampire came...I thought I was gonna lose you for good this time” he said sadly, allowing his arm to return to his side. “I thought I had-...that you were gonna die.” 

“You saved me though.” you replied. Kanato knelt down to your level, still slightly above you. 

“Yeah...because if anyone is gonna break you, it’s gonna be me.”

“I care about you a lot, Kanato.” you finally said it. “I like you too much.” you exposed yourself. “I want you stay by your side.” you said pathetically. “Even if you hate me.”

Before you could say another word, Kanato claimed your lips in a kiss. He held the sides of your face in his hands. It was the first time he had ever kissed you. He hummed thoughtfully, pushing you down to the floor so you were laying on your back. He crawled over you, not breaking the kiss. 

“K-kanato.” you whimpered.

“You need to be taught a lesson. If your gonna be my girlfri- I mean pet, you’ll have to learn.” he kissed down your neck.

Suddenly, Kanato ripped the seam of your jeans all the way up your left leg, leaving it completely exposed to the air.

“Oh look, your clothes are messed up, guess we’ll have to take them off.” he smirked. In another swift motion, your pants were torn to shreds. The fabric fell in a circle around you both.

“Teddy look! Y/N is wearing such cute panties.” he cackled maniacally. “Her naughty place is leaking.”

You trembled, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning.

“I heard blood tastes better when it’s from your naughty place.” he ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth. “Y/N” he moaned, running his index finger along your clothed heat. “You smelled so much better here...I just want to- ungh.”

He suddenly drove his fangs into your right thigh. You gasped, arching your back. He violently grabbed your legs, holding them down. His tongue lashed against your freshly made wound. 

You could hear him whimpering, cursing under his breath. 

Kanato would deny it with his life, but everything about you was like a drug to you. Tasting your blood was even sweeter than every dessert he’s ever tasted. Feeling you whimper and plea for him did things to him that would make a sailor blush. 

Forget Yui, forget his brothers, forget it all.

“Fuh-” Kanato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from ripping off your panties and driving his tongue into your most sensitive parts. Hearing you moan for him, cry for him. 

The rumors were right, vampires were godly lovers. It was like Kanato knew what you wanted and where. He lashed his tongue against your heat, grabbing your legs. 

“Wrap your legs around my head,” he demanded. “Not like it’s gonna kill me.” he laughed manically. “

Knock knock

“Y/N, are you in there?” Yui’s small voice caused you to panic a little. As you tried to get up, Kanato pushed you right back down, growling into your pussy,

“FUCK!” you whined, making it very obvious what you two were up to. “Kanato, I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” he grunted, not ceasing his movements. “Cum, cum for me.”

“K-KAANAAA!” you cried as you came. You thrashed and writhed under his touch, but he didn’t stop. His tongue never stopped moving. “fuh- fuck! Kanato, t-too much!”

“I said cum for me, I didn’t say I’d stop.” he thrust his fingers into you to add insult to injury. “You’re so fun to fuck with!” he spat.

“Kanato!” you sobbed. You couldn’t stop moving, you couldn’t stop thrashing. Th epleasure had gotten to you so much, you were drooling.

He finally withdrew his mouth from you, smiling evilly at the mess he left.

Kanato had grabbed one of his ties that had left on the floor and bound your wrists together.

“You look so inviting tied up for me...” he shuddered as he bit his lip. He licked his fingers clean of your blood and juices. “Good thing the night is young...because I’m not done with you.”

...