#sorry I took 5ever

[automatayaoi]

Air Catcher, Lonely Hearts Club, & In a Dream for Spirit? :]

Air Catcher - did you have any sort of issues being vulnerable with Styx at first, or did you feel completely safe with them the moment you met them?

🍓 "Agh, I always feel so bad answering these kinds of questions now. Back then, I...well, I still had a lot of things to work through. A lot of trust to build. So, yeah, no, I didn't let my guard down around Styx for a long time. It's hard to feel safe around a witch when you spend your whole life afraid of them. Even if this one was, y'know, chained up in a dungeon."

Lonely Hearts Club - were you nervous at all when you realized your feelings for Styx? did you feel like they wouldn't like you back, or were you confident that they felt the same?

🍓 "Are you kidding me? Of course I was nervous!! Have you seen my track record for relationships?! Many and varied, but pretty dang tumultuous!! That's not even accounting for them being a witch, plus the whole weird unnamed thing with me and Stein--"

"I was a mess when I realized it. I mean, I knew Styx pretty well by then, but...all the usual ways I'd go about romance couldn't work in this case. It was new territory, even if they actually liked me, which sure wasn't a guarantee. Things were...things were hard then."

In a Dream - do you ever have dreams about Styx? if you can remember any, describe one!

🍓 "I don't think the dreams I have about them are rated for a public audience."

[ballcrusher74]

Normal people asking to live w u vs Woody

Fencer is the ideal head nutcracker (as you said in another post implies he's a leader of sorts) and Woody admires and wants that sort of order and security in his life<3 Homie wants to be his sugar plum fairy

he's still in denial

[squishosaur]

meow meow meow meow i am a cat at ur door pls make more bokuaka im begging.. WAIT I SHOULD BE HOOTING WHILE SAYING THIS WHAT AM I DOING ... hoot hoot hoot hoot hoot hypnotizong uuu i love yoouu draw more bokuaka hoooot... - oz <3

wow! i'm entranced :3

[cleaduvalls]

🐈‍⬛🌻🌦

🐈‍⬛ fav animal

FROGS i am in college for frogs rn theyre so silly and cute and AH

🌻 fav flower

ough,,,, im really feeling violets rn but i love a good iris,,, this answer changes every time 😭😭

🌦 fav weather

SUMMER AFTERNOON THUNDERSTORMMMMM 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚

[rillette]

Restarting the Tom song recs in chronological order.

Rubik's Cube by Athlete

YESSSSSS!!! SUCH a good pick for tom fr. bestowing autism on characters really is the highest honor for real, its like blorbo knighthood

[storiesfromthefarm]

STORIES FROM THE FARM ✿ chapter 7

╰a Poly!SVT kpop au

╰ feat. SVT, original female character

╰ mentions of zombie apocalypse, slice of life

╰ index:                 - Haraboji: 할아버지, trans. grandfather                 - Halbi: 할비, trans. nickname, short for 할아버지                 - Ahjussi: 아저씨, trans. used to address a middle-aged or married man       - Hyung: 형, trans. brother; familiar term for a younger male toward an older male

“Hyung, did you see the calendar in the kitchen? It’s almost your birthday.”

“Eh?”

“Mn. Apparently it’s the third; it’s three days from now.”

Ari hesitated, fist hovering over the door. Instead of knocking, she pulled back, leaning against the wall to the left.

“If Haraboji lets us stay the week like he said, we’ll still be here for it.”

“Ah, well,” Mingyu said. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Ah, come on! Maybe if we tell Haraboji, he can convince Ari-ssi to give us some meat!”

Ari prickled, shooting her head toward the closed door. Halbi told them about the meat?! God, that old man has a big mouth.

“Nah, let it be. I’m happy enough that we get to stay here for a bit. Besides, I don’t wanna do anything to piss her off any more than she already is.” Mingyu chuckled.

At this, Ari felt her heart sink. She hung her head, twisting her lips. Surely she wasn’t that bad, was she? It’s just…they had to know they couldn’t stay. There were too many of them.

Someone sighed deeply. “She’s so pretty, though, isn’t she?”

Ari’s eyes widened. There was a chorus of agreement, and Ari felt her face warm.

“I wonder what happened to her to make her so mad, though. Remember what Haraboji said?”

“Maybe it’s just her anxiety? Remember how Seungcheol-hyung was when he got bad?”

Oh, Ari thought sadly, that’s right. I forgot…Seungcheol had to take time off at one point for anxiety, too. Wait, my what?! Just how much has Halbi been telling them?  

“I think she likes us.”

“What?!”

“Are you crazy?”

“She definitely hates us.”

“I don’t think so? I think she’s just pretending to. Didn’t you see the way she reacted yesterday when Haraboji told her about us being idols?”

“Yeah, but…she said she didn’t like us.”

“Nah, I think she’s lying.”

Who is that? Is that Vernon? That little - what does he know?!

Although the rational part of her mind responded quickly: He seems to know everything. Because of course she was lying. Of course she was. She was thrilled to death that they were alive, that they were here and safe and eating well - at least for now - but the happier she got about all of that, the harder it would be to send them away. And she had to send them away.

“I wonder who her favorite group was, anyway?”

“We should make Hansolie ask her, since he’s so convinced she likes us.” They all laughed, and Ari rolled her eyes.

Shuffling slightly, she finally plucked up the courage and knocked on the door with her free hand. Mingyu opened the door quickly.

“Can I…come in?” she asked, raising her arm, which was weighed down with the things she’d brought from the warehouse.

Eyes wide, Mingyu nodded, opening the door wide and moving aside to let her pass.

“It’s extra clothes,” she explained, slowly setting the large stack down on the floor. “Shirts, socks, underwear, pants. So I don’t have to do the laundry as often. Halbi mentioned that you all talked about shaving while you were out, so here’s some razors and cream. They’re not fancy but the blades are all new. I brought tissues in case you need them, and wet wipes for…whatever.” Clearing her throat, she stood, leaving the large basket full of items on the floor. “Just basics.”

“Thank you, Ari-ssi!” Seokmin grinned and Ari felt her heart tighten a bit.

Though it was only the second day, there was a lot more life in their eyes than there had been when they’d arrived yesterday. His cheeks weren’t quite as full as they once had been, but Seokmin’s smile was still wide and warm.

“Sure,” she mumbled, trying to ignore their very pointed stares. “If you need anything else…” She made the terrible mistake of looking toward Vernon, who was looking at her with what some might describe as warmth. “Tell Halbi!”

She very nearly ran from the room, closing the door behind her loudly. Grumbling to herself as she made her way upstairs, she pressed her hands against her flushed cheeks. She had already delivered the supplies to the other boys, and Halbi had turned in some time ago.

The boys had spent the remainder of the day with Halbi, mulling about the living room and chatting, while she hid away in her room until dinner rolled around. A very small part of her wished that Halbi would just get on with it, make them work all day and get as much done as possible. She sighed, shaking her head. But Halbi was right; they’d been staying outside for quite a while now. They were probably exhausted, even after a good night’s sleep in the house. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to overwork them.

As she quietly slipped into her room, she thought about the conversation she’d overheard.

Three days from now, huh…

- - -

The days passed easily, each day the same. Ari began to wake up later, to the smell of breakfast and chatter downstairs. She went about her chores while the boys worked outside for the first half of the day, moving inside after lunch to relax.

However, on the morning of the sixth, Ari was shaken awake by Halbi. She groaned, rubbing at her eyes.

“Don’t know what ya’ needed me to wake ya’ so early for. Boys can handle breakfast. Couple of ‘em decent at cooking.”

“I wan’ cook today,” she mumbled into her pillow sleepily.

“Well then ya’ better drag yer tail outta bed.” He patted her head once before leaving the room.

She sighed deeply into her covers before tossing them off, the cool air of the room meeting her bare legs. She stretched, long and wide, before stumbling out of bed and washing quickly.

Halbi was already in the kitchen with a glass of water.

“What’s the sudden interest in gettin’ up so early to cook?”

She shrugged. “I feel like seaweed soup this morning. I want to make it fresh.”

Halbi stared at her incredulously. “Seaweed soup?”

“Mm.”

“You ain’t never ate seaweed soup in yer life.”

She blinked slowly. “…I wanna try it.”

“All of a sudden?”

“Yes, all of a sudden I want to try seaweed soup! Is that a crime?” She twisted her hair into a messy bun. “I’m going to go grab some things from the basement.”

She left quickly, into the auxiliary kitchen and then down into the basement.

On the list of places most important to the farm, the basement was surely included. The basement was filled to the brim with everything she had stored: the meat, spare fruits and vegetables, all the dry and canned food, and all the medicine and extra supplies. It was the largest space in the house. She’d designed it overlarge because she originally had dreamy, even grandiose, plans for it, but - well, plans change.

She opened one of the several commercial freezers, digging around through the meat. If they can only have it once…Her hands lingered over several cuts of fine hanwoo beef. She normally only saved it for Chuseok, but, after all, birthdays are important.

She whined a little in the back of her throat. “My beef…”

With a heavy heart, she pulled several of the cuts out and loaded them into her arms. Slowly, she began gathering the ingredients from around the room. A pack of dried seaweed, a large radish, a handful of green onion, and one of the late season apples. “Most of the other things should be upstairs already,” she mumbled to herself as she balanced everything precariously.

She carefully made her way back upstairs, grabbing a large stock pot from the auxiliary kitchen as she went and dumping the ingredients onto the counter in the main kitchen. When she turned, Halbi was staring at her knowingly.

“What?” she grumbled. “You said they’ve been doing a good job.”

“Special meal even if they are,” he said. He wandered over. “You even gonna give ‘em the hanwoo? Well, now. I knew you was fond of ‘em.” He chuckled. She pouted, turning away and grabbing a bowl from the lower cabinet. “So which one of ‘em is it?” Halbi continued.

She sighed as she ripped open the packet of seaweed. “…It’s Mingyu.”

“That’s one o’ the tall ones, i’nit?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. The tall, tan one. Er…” All of them had become pretty tan. She guessed it was from being outside for so long. “The tanner one. How much of this should I soak for thirteen people?” She flipped the back over, trying to see if there were portion suggestions.

“Ah, just chuck it all in. It’ll all get ate.”

“I like it,” she said, tearing some portions apart before tossing it in the bowl. “Easy.” She filled the bowl with water quickly before setting it off to the side. “Now, meat.” She pulled another large bowl out and carefully dumped all the meat in before filling it with cool water. “Hmm, how long should it all take to defrost?”

“Hour or more,” Halbi offered, peering over. “Probably ought to’ve thawed it last night.” She tapped her fingers on the counter irritably. She wanted it to be done by the time they got up. “Ah, don’t worry yerself about it. Just start boiling it when the seaweed’s ready. Won’t matter too much; you can skim off any blood and such.”

“Ugh,” she groaned at the thought. “Worst part about boiling meat. That’s fine, though.” She sighed. “While we’re waiting, I’m gonna go back down to the basement. I’m going to check all the food storage.”

“Mn.”

She wandered back downstairs. She started with the freezers, feeling their sides and checking their temperature gauges, dusting off the vents at the bottom, as well. Originally, she’d only had the one, intending to use it as an extra deep freezer for storage. It had been more than a hassle getting the other six from Seoul. It had involved a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, and had resulted in her lying in bed for nearly a week due to a tweaked nerve in her back. Still, after Ahjussi had brought all the meat from his cattle farm, saving it had become an extremely time sensitive issue, as the ice he put it on in the truck would only last for so long. If he hadn’t brought a dolly with him, she never would have been able to move the large appliances by herself.

Most of the electricity they stored was for the multiple appliances around the house. She never turned on the lights or the heating and air. All of the non-essential electronics had been unplugged and stored away in the community center long ago. Now, all that was left were the things that made their lives infinitely easier, the creature comforts that she’d hold onto until they gave out: washing machine, dishwasher, refrigerators and freezers, and her precious electric vacuums. The cold storage, too, was incredibly important to keep as much of the food Halbi harvested fresh for as long as possible.  

For immediate access, she kept a small store of fruits and vegetables here in the basement, as well. Onions, apples, carrots, radishes, sweet potatoes and the like, all wrapped neatly and stored in ventilated shelves so she could move them up to the main fridge easily. She slowly began checking them one by one: unwrapping, checking for signs of rot or softness, rewrapping. It was a long process, but it was necessary to keep the food safe. One bad apple, as they say.

The slow, mundane task nearly lulled her back to sleep. By the time she finished, her eyes were heavy as she wandered back upstairs. She idly rinsed the softened seaweed before preparing the stock, throwing in the ingredients to boil.

By the time the soup was ready, everyone had started wandering out of the rooms. She was just placing the meat garnishes on the last bowl as several of the members wandered in, washed, but still looking tired.

“No way…” Chan sniffed. “Is that—?”

Ari picked up a warm bowl, turning as she prepared to set the table, to see Mingyu, who was standing only a few feet away, a shocked look on his face. Ari shuffled her feet uncertainly, slowly offering him the bowl in her hands.

“Happy Birthday…”

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ taglist: @hyuckscult13​ | @woozarts​ | @hoshihandholder​ | @sohnfile​

[chaoticspacefam]

FINALLY gave the best gurl a proper ref after like...4 years, sorry bb. 🥺👉👈  I had a LOT of fun with this one, especially the saber, belt buckle and the teef :’3

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY ART! Reblogs always appreciated <3

l e m o n s below the cut (aka n/sfw)

[the-exiled-comic]

Y’know, this whole part about Haven is probably supposed to give me the feeling of “Oh haha, this is all so obvious now, nothing surprising” or something but really the more she explains about the dark forest/hell I get more and more hungry for an explanation. Hope this makes sense!

Ooh I'm glad it came across that way!!! I wanted to wait to answer this until after the Autumnstar scene to establish that the dark forest is going to return later on. Didn't want to accidentally spoil anything by saying too soon that we're coming back here! This chapter answers questions by asking more questions XD

I was sorta aiming for Cloverfall's reappearance to feel very abrupt and sudden, she's on a survival mission! There's no time to explain! But at the same time, there's so many questions! The dark forest is a scary place, and it seems like Starclan may be a little scary too.

[minwooks-moved]

idk if you're still doing these or not but if you are then 💕💓💖 !!

omg hiii~~ yepyep !! won’t stop doing them until i go to bed tonight 🥰 they’re v fun so !!

who else to give my longest-term moot/beloved, then one of my long-term besties, nct’s mark ! you both are so sweet, honest, loyal, creative, and very determined to reach your goals (& v belovedededest to me) <3 !! your guys’ art is simply so prettie & cool, and is more often than not … worthy of lots of envy (positive💘) ! you guys also aren’t shy to a bit of teasing, and are able to handle it pretty well. you love your besties pretty comfortably, and try to make sure that the people around you are comfy <3 and in that same vein, you’re also super easy to talk to !! all-in-all, mark lee is lovely, kind of goofy (in an endearing & lovable way so …. v v v v positive ), and very talented bestie, and so are you 🥰��

mutuals send me any heart emoji, and i’ll tell you which of my bias / bias wreckers i’d assign / you remind me of <3 !

[dcrknesshums]

closed starter: @cvpidswings !!

❛ — did you hear about what happened ?? to the camera man ?? ❜ sam inquired of his co start, taking a seat on one of the couches in her trailer as he indulged in a protein bar he had swiped off of the concessions table. they were on set for an early morning shoot but, apparently something had happened to a member of the film crew — a paticular something that samuel knew plenty about. his wrist was still cramping from the twenty unfrogiving stab wounds sam had delivered to his chest. ❛ — apparently some janitorial staff found him dead last night... and they're just now gettin' it all cleaned up. you'd think they'd cancel the shoot for today or at least had given us a later call time but, as they say — the show must go on, right ?? ❜

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

✏️ [ if still accepting! ]

Send me a ✏️ and I'll draw your muse. // @celestialcomedy

[caruliaa]

maybe i will like him in the later eps he appears in more but at least based on thee first ep abt him i. do not like jet atm 😭😭 like im sorry but he is infact. giving gale !!

[americashielded-a]

@rcdlcdger​ said:

(ruffle) — to ruffle my muse’s hair playfully

“Hey, quit that, Natasha, we’re supposed to look professional,” Steve muttered as he felt her mess with his hair just a little bit. Steve wasn’t really a fan of reconnaissance work, at least if it was in a more formal setting like this, but he’d never been one for fancy outings and events where formal wear was required anyway, even if they didn’t have work to do. He still didn’t know how Natasha was comfortable doing this so often, both before The Avengers, and also as part of The Avengers. It was hard to keep a cover as part of a team like that, anyway, but she still managed to get away with it.

“Besides, there are a lot of guys who have their eyes on you here, and if they think we’re too close, I imagine they’ll get awfully jealous,” Steve teased. “I know that dress is meant to be distracting, but considering all the glances toward you I’ve seen so far, I’m starting to think it might be working too well right now.”

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

[phyrestartr]

Vampire | Miguel x M!Reader

Vampire!Miguel x Reader W/C: 5.9k

#NSFW, vampires, blood, gore, violence, bottom!reader, top!Miguel, mentions of sex work, mentions of assault, it's kinda cute idk, posessive behaviour, questionable relationship, reader is morally grey, reader is lowkey a criminal though lol, Johnny Blaze = Nic Cage 5ever sorry not sorry

Note: I FINISHED IT! Lost steam with editing so some bits may be kinda weird and word-y, but I really enjoyed writing this honestly :clap: ty guys for voting for me to finish this o(--( I actually finished it so quickly wtf--

--

Vampires. Blood-sucking, man-killing, devil-calling creatures. Many feared them, even now, even after the legends of Dracula faded into obscurity and out of the minds of mortal men. But there were some who kept weary watch on the old castle looming before your meager town: older folks, the ones with bleached scars and haunted voices, with quivering hands and a phobia of the dark. 

You thought they all spun tales, convinced themselves of a time that never happened thanks to whatever their parents hushedly told them come the waning of the sun. “Don't leave the house after dark,” “be wary of the man you know not,” “pray to God for his protection,” is what you figured they'd been told. You couldn't blame them. Not really. Mass hysteria, mass lies told to the young had a penchant for warping their minds, destroying their futures. 

But still, you'd listen. Face alight with a smile, one ear turned their way as you poured drinks for whatever patron came bumbling your way that night. There was one man, one who claimed to have been touched by the devil himself, momentarily transformed into something wicked and unholy, who frequented the establishment. 

“Come on now, Johnny,” you chided with a laugh, “you don't really believe all that rubbish. Touched by the devil? You Americans really are the dramatic sort, aren't you?” 

“You don't need to believe all of it,” Johnny said mildly. “You just need to believe a sliver of it. It'll do you some good. Keep you safe.” 

You smiled to yourself as you busily made a drink for a new customer. “Yeah? Keep me safe from what, exactly?” Your eyes met his, then, and you found your blood stood in place for a moment. 

“You know what.” The devil. He'd said it too many times to count without uttering his name. “Just be smart.”

“I'm always smart,” you said with a phony laugh, the sort you used to lull women and men into some cheap sense of comfort. 

“Smart people do dumb things, too.” He took a swig of his drink before peering down at the amber pooling against crystal. “Like sneaking around old, unhallowed castles.” 

You pursed your lips. “I'm just curious, old man, you don't need to worry. I've not been inside, yeah? Just looked ‘round the outside of the old place.” That's probably filled with loads of goods. 

But Johnny only stared at you, calculating, thinking. It almost unnerved you. 

“Just be careful.” 

And in that moment, a man whose name you didn’t know, but whose body you knew too well, walked into the bar. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall, and from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden away under the brim of that hat, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones. His eyes, a bizarre colour, always glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of, and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadow rolling off his strong neck. 

He didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t look away. Your gaze followed him to where he found a quiet seat off to the side by a small table. He wouldn’t order anything. He never did. He only ever waited for your shift to end. 

“Kid?” Johnny prodded, freeing you from your momentary curse.

You blinked and sputtered, nodding in earnest to whatever Johnny had said. “I–right. Careful. I’m always careful.” 

–

Just be careful.

But that was impossible with this otherworldly spirit around you, waiting for you every other night just for the sake of bedding you, and leaving before morning with nothing but a stack of bills (or sometimes some jewelry, if you were lucky) to remember him by. Your favourite client by far. Your only client, per his request.

Your fists twisted into the bedsheets as you gasped with every brutal crashing of the man’s hips against yours as he took you from behind. He was in a bad mood tonight, it seemed. Normally, he liked to take it slow, he liked to savour his meal, but for some reason–

His hand clasped over your mouth when his teeth tore into your neck again. The cry that left you was hoarse and tired, but not so surprised, no; the man had his kinks, and one just so happened to be biting. He did quite the number on you, too, always breaking skin and leaving scars and scabs in his wake. But it felt good. It felt right to be claimed. The greedy, ugly little part of your heart wanted people to know you were taken and owned by this strange, captivating man.

“Fuck, I–” You buried your face into the mattress as another orgasm hit, striking your dull nerves like hammer on hot iron thrust after thrust. Soon enough, you felt his body stutter against yours just before an uncanny, liquid gold filled your guts and seeped into your core–he was finally done. Finally. Though part of you wished it didn’t have to end. 

His teeth, the pointed, feral things, dislodged from your neck before he ran the flat of his tongue against the weeping wound. Somehow, that always staunched the bleeding. You didn’t quite understand it, but you weren’t exactly well-versed in medicine.

“Tired already?” He mocked in that smokey, American accent. “Thought the young had more than that to offer.” The purr of his voice soothed the pulsing start of a headache as you came down from your high. Yet another strange effect he had on you. 

You took a good handful of moments to catch your breath before you tried to hazard an answer. “I’m–you’re in some kind of mood, darling; can’t blame me for your brutality.” You turned your head to rest your cheek against the scratchy sheets, and the beast took the opportunity to leave nips and kisses along your jaw. 

“Tch. I’m just reminding you who you belong to. Where you belong.” Sharp teeth grazed your skin again, and you shuddered. “No one likes to see theirs fawning over another man.” 

You strained to look back at him. “You–you mean Johnny? He’s not–I wouldn’t let him bed me, are you mad?” A rough push of his hips against yours reprimanded you. “H-He’s a mate, love, that’s all.”

The man twitched. “A mate?” 

“A friend, you bloody idiot.”

He relaxed, but still sought confirmation. “A friend.”

“A friend, indeed. Father-figure, maybe.” With a bit of effort, you managed to wriggle free from the strength of the man pinning you in place, and laid on your back to gaze up at him. “I’m not interested in him, he’s not interested in men, so you needn’t worry a thing.” One of your worn hands reached up and smoothed over the curve of his sharp cheekbone, drawing a pleased hum from the chamber of the beast’s chest. 

“Fine.” He rested his weight on you, and you sighed, content and warmed. But that bony chin digging into your chest was a tad bit fucking irritating. “Then if he’s not trying to fuck you, what makes you listen to him for hours on end, hm?” Hah. Annoyed. Jealous. Quite endearing. 

“He has stories to tell,” you offered. “Words about the devil and the curse of the undead. About Dracula and that old castle.” 

The man’s brows raised in interest. “Oh? And you like ghost stories, is that it? Here I figured I'd be enough to keep your mind entertained,” he said with a taunting smirk, like he thought your suggested belief in those spooky tales was laughable. 

Heat washed over your face. “I–you–shut up, I just like me a good story, is that so wrong? Tch, stupid American.”

He laughed, a sound you adored to hell and back. “I’ll keep it in mind. Might have a few good stories up my sleeve, too.” His head tilted the slightest bit. “Maybe then your eyes won’t wander.”

“Terribly jealous one, aren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it.” You raked your hands through his hair and he sighed, deep and ancient. But your words were true–this man, your mysterious client-turned-lover, he captivated all wherever he traveled. With so many eyes on him, why did he want you to look nowhere else but to him? 

Greedy man. That’s what you decided. He wanted everything and more. 

“Other men don't get to look at what's mine,” he mumbled after a time of you pampering him with pets and scritches. “And you're mine, for the record.” 

“Hm. I quite like the sound of that.” 

“Then marry me.” 

“I'm not sure I can,” you lamented. “I find myself in trouble too often. It puts me on the run, jumping from town to city and back again.” 

“You'd never have to run again if you let me have you.” He picked himself up and loomed over you, brushing his nose against yours as he spoke against your lips. “You'd be safe, cared for, never want for anything. None of those sacks of shit would would lay a finger on you again.” His lips trailed down, brushing against the thick vein in your neck. “I think it's for the best if you agree.” 

You almost argued back, but the large hand engulfing your throat gave you pause. He didn't hurt you, no, but gave you a silent warning. The power that man held over you contradicted his weakness to your wants and desires, and twisted your thoughts into unorganized knots. 

“I'll think on it,” you breathed, not wanting to say yes but unwilling to say no. You didn't want marriage, but commitment was a tantalizing idea. You'd just never thought it'd happen to you. 

His eyes came back to yours again. Your heart fluttered at the glints of carmine shimmering in candle-lit eyes. God, he was beautiful. 

“I better like your answer.” 

–

You left. You hated doing it, you hated running from your problems and whatever seemed to haunt you day to day, but too much happened in too short a time. 

For one, the landlord demanded more and more rent money from you when he noticed your gifted jewelry and newly tailored coat, and then, when you didn't give it to him, he took to trying to get payment another way. You shot him, obviously. 

Which led to your second reason for leaving–you'd shot a man and fled the scene, unknowing if he was alive or not, and uncaring of the outcome, quite frankly. You figured the lowlife would be more pressed about the money than dying, anyway. 

And third, the bar you worked at found out you'd been swindling and stealing on the job, pocketing tips and taking home near-empty bottles to refill with something of your own design to sell on the streets. Admittedly, it was fine work, but you'd long abandoned that method of money-making once that stranger wandered into your life and offered you more cash than you could imagine.

But you liked that bar. You liked those patrons. No strings attached.

And that's why you were back. Not with the intention to stay, no; you were back to scout out the castle after getting confirmation from some university lads about how valuable the old place was. You figured you could find enough in there with the scoundrels you'd come with, and maybe you could pay the old owner back before leaving for good. 

You'd never have to run again if you'd let me have you. 

Maybe you should've just said yes.

– 

The castle stood beautifully, even with the screams of the slaughtered ringing through the halls. It was big, too, eagerly letting you get lost in its enchanting halls and inviting rooms as you tried in vain to remember the way out. 

That's when you crashed into one of the uni snobs you'd come with, Harry. He was a mess, clothes and hair out of place for once, with a spray of sticky blood coating his face and white shirt. Osborn must've seen their tormentor. 

He grabbed your shoulders as you grabbed his arms. “We have to go, we have to go–” he chanted, pulling and pushing you in undecided directions. 

“Osborn, where did you see it? Where–” Another scream gave you a hint. Your eyes snapped down the hallway, staring deep into the torchlit halls and finding nothing but the unknown staring back. 

Then, there were footsteps. Slow, methodical things that rung to a tune hidden in your memories.

“We have to go,” you whispered, like that'd help. “Osborn, we have to–” a splitting pain electrocuted your senses and sent you stumbling backwards. The world spun. Your head ached. Funeral bells shrieked. Worst of all, that dress shirt and that fancy jacket you loved so much were stained suddenly, a foul colour of darkness that reeked of pennies and iron. It took you too long to look back to the student, and to see the smoking pistol held out in his shaky hand. 

“I had to,” Osborn whispered, so, so haunted. “I had to. You understand.” And quite frankly, you did understand; wounding a lamb to leave behind for a wolf to indulge in was a sure way to let a farmer escape. 

Harry took off. You grasped your stomach and leaned hard against the wall, trying to pull yourself together to make some kind of run for it before those languid steps found you and cut your story short. But you felt so tired, so dizzy. The red weeping under your hand and the bewildered pants leaving you left you colder and colder. You wondered if Osborn had shot himself in the foot with this one (hah), killing the sacrificial lamb, rendering it useless to what was believed to be a vampire of all things. They devoured the living, not the dead. 

Clack, clack, clack. The haunting echo of fine shoes on wooden slats passed you by, then vanished all together. You collapsed to your knees and heaved in the burning air just as a deafening screech ricocheted through the halls with the echo of frantic gunfire, and the slosh of viscera. You fought back the burn of bile in your throat when you braved a look; there laid a body on the floor, and a corpse standing above it, illuminated just barely by torchlight. 

His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall–

“We could have avoided all of this,” the creature growled. 

–from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden in the swath of darkness around him, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones–

“But you didn’t listen.”

–his eyes, a bizarre colour, glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of– 

“Why couldn’t you just listen?”

–and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadows rolling off his strong neck.

He appeared beside you so suddenly, so soundlessly, you wouldn’t have known he approached if it weren’t for the strength of your fluttering eyelids seeking the truth. You stared hard at the tips of his leather shoes. Perhaps you should’ve known it was him all along. Perhaps you had known. 

He knelt before you and forced your chin up, making your eyes meet his as he stared down through you. Blood marred his face, matching the wine-red hue of his furious, gem-cut eyes; even like this, teeth bared, about to kill you, he was beautiful. 

“Look what you’ve done. This is your fault–”

But that beauty was wasted on such a foul-mouthed monster. 

“My fault?” You spat. “Fuck you.” You tore your chin from his grip, but his hand sought out your throat instead. “Don’t fucking touch me–”

He smiled, bitter but so wholly and infuriatingly amused before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.” And before you could lash out, before you could throw a fist at his stupid face, he yanked you in and bit.

A winter breeze rippled through you. Cold. Piercing. And you gradually froze like water dripping from the gutters, no longer able to fight back, too sluggishly slow to do anything about your fate. You breathed hard, feeling the hole in your stomach and ache of your heart weep and worsen with every shattering breath you took. Your hands, gentle in their weakness, pawed at his chest and sought a spot to dig in and hold on to for dear life as the waking world turned its back to you.

But despite the bitterness, and despite words exchanged, he held the side of your face as you faded in and out of consciousness. He called something, and a flurry of orange wisps appeared above you. 

–

You awoke to the echoes of a dream, one you hadn’t had for a while. A cloudless night where you’d been caught in bed by a taken woman’s man and beaten half to death; in return, you shredded through the man's chest with a knife from the kitchen while the wife watched on in silence. You'd been ready to kill her, too, slit her throat in one easy motion, but she never screamed, never looked at the wild animal with fear. 

Tell the police he attacked you, miss. 

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

You fumbled through the alleys after leaving the scene, but others, foul things that roamed the streets where not even rats lingered, found you, threatened to use up the last of what you had to offer this pitiful world. It seemed as though they disappeared in the time it took you to blink, though, and a man was left, standing in their wake. He looked somewhat disheveled, like he’d just finished some grand task, but he was just so put together, too. You struggled to make sense of it, but you didn’t really care to. 

“Well, isn't that impressive,” you said with a breathless laugh. “Not a shred of blood on you. Are you the ripper the paper’s gone on and on about?”

The being glanced over his shoulder, eyes alight in curious mirth. He turned your way and stepped closer. You saw it then, the slightest bit of dark smears on his face.

“Is that what they're calling me?” He adjusted his cuffs, and rolled his shoulders. “Huh.” 

Adrenaline poured into your heart. “You're quite the dangerous man, aren't you, sir?” you swallowed thickly as you looked him over: fine shoes, expensive coat, luxurious rings. “And, ah, well-off. You wouldn't happen to be interested in spreading the wealth, hm?” 

His hand cupped your jaw, sticky with freezing blood, and he leaned in. The pungent scent of iron curled your gut as he breathed you in, making up his mind with what to do with you. Then, with the dry, warm back of his gloved hand, he caressed the side of your face and watched your eyelids flutter, devouring the simple gesture. 

“Let's see if you can convince me to.”

-

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

Curiosity willed your eyes open, and you gazed down at the hollow tube connecting you to the walking corpse. You fought to ease the jump of your heart, but it became impossible when a dark red raced from the vampire's arm down into yours. 

“Is that going to make me like you?” You whispered, nerves twitching and burning with the bite of restless fire ants. 

Crimson eyes found yours and looked deep. “It won't. You can relax.” But you weren't convinced, and your lover could tell. “You'd have to drink my blood.” 

“Why're you giving me your blood, then?” 

“You'll die without it.” He pumped something, you now noticed, and realized it was what drew the blood from his veins and drained it into yours. 

Curious. “Were you a man of medicine?” 

He scoffed. “Still am.” He threw you a wary look, one brow raised. “How many more questions are you–” 

“Your name?” That was something you'd requested before, but always through a veil of uncertainty. You didn't like to ask much of him. He didn't ask much of you. But you didn't know him, yet he knew you. 

Your vampire frowned, unapproving. “What difference will it make?” 

“You asked me to fucking marry you,” you bit out. “And yet you keep so many secrets from me, still. I've given you more than I have, and you can't even–” 

“Miguel.” You both paused–him to gauge your reaction, and you out of shock. “Miguel O'hara.” 

The cracks in your chest mended, just slightly. Miguel O'hara. What a name that was. Formidable and wholly suiting the beast of a man you'd known and craved for far too many years. 

“Miguel O'hara,” you whispered, staring tiredly at the red thread connecting the two of you. The name felt good on your tongue. 

Nothing more was said, then. He must've still felt the tension in the air, or maybe the coil of apprehension in your body, for he worked on in silence, quietly saving your life for no reason. 

It was when he pulled free the needle that you found the will to break the silence on your own. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” It came out a pathetic whisper, sounding as broken as your mind felt. 

He paused before pulling the needle from his own arm. “Tell you what?” 

It was a good question. You didn't know what to ask him to elaborate on. You didn't know if you wanted him to elaborate on anything, actually, because it'd make it too real, too tangible. 

“Everything.” And when he stayed silent, you narrowed it down to just, “all of…you.” 

Miguel licked his thumb and stroked it soothingly against the pinprick of a wound while his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into something of a frown. “How could I?” You both watched the tiny dot of red cease weeping. “If you'd moved on and you knew, it could put everything at risk.” 

If I'd moved on. It felt wrong. It felt uncomfortable to know he felt that somewhere between his ribs and his heart. And for how long? How long had he not trusted you? Did he even trust you in that moment, knowing what and who he truly was? Or were you now doomed to this castle just as he was? 

“I'll let you rest,” Miguel said as he clasped his medical case shut and stood. “Lyla'll bring you food.” 

Thump, thump, thump, echoed his footsteps, those fine shoes muffled by old carpet; but the sharp clack, clack, clack in the hollow echoes of your memories, just before the truth revealed itself to you, swallowed up your thoughts.

“(Name),” Miguel said, and your eyes opened to find the tall, proud back of his silhouette stood at the door, one hand clutching the knob. “Don’t leave this room.” 

And he left you there, heart aching, mind melting, soul shattering. 

–

Solitude reminded you of what else happened. The lads you'd come here with, nothing more than acquaintances, were missing, or perhaps dead. It ate at your mind. Could you have done something different? Could you have convinced him to let them go?

More importantly, would Miguel let you leave? He claimed he wanted to marry you, but words were just words if not put to use with actions. Staying by his side would mean stomaching the fact he'd consume countless other people, wouldn't it? How were you expected to watch your partner(?), your groom-to-be(?), hold and pierce others the way he promised to you and only you?

But could you let him stay here alone, hunted and hated by believers, laughed at by the average skeptic? If you were not here, how many more would walk in on a dare, and meet a terrible end? They didn’t matter, no, but the legend of a vampire would turn more and more true, summoning devil-hunters to his doorstep, stake and flames in-hand.

The thoughts plagued you, filling your head with the terrible buzzing of bees. You couldn't fathom why you cared so much; most of your life you'd lived for your own sake, doing what needed to be done to get by, to have a better tomorrow. You hated other people. A few of them you'd personally buried six feet under, whether they were dead or lived still, and you never batted an eye. You had no patience for those who'd oppose you. 

You would have killed Osborn yourself if O’hara hadn't. And that was the truth. That'd been the truth the whole time, ever since you saw just how expensively he and the others lived; gold dripped from their tongues, silver ran through their veins, diamonds fell from their eyes. You wanted to claim a bit of that for yourself. 

And Miguel had shared his wealth with you, just in exchange for a bit of blood and your body for the night. Surely you could look past what he did to survive, even if it put your heart into a spiral. 

Lost in thought, you found your way to his chambers, freely disobeying his orders

He lounged in a clawfoot bath. Stuffy heat lulled you into a daze, something like a carefree summer evening wherein the sun took too long to vanish. Though when he noticed you approach, shedding clothes the entire way, the heat grew near unbearable.

Miguel's claws creaked against the enamel in anticipation when you stepped into the water. You watched him with the same delicate intrigue as prey investigating something that could be a threat as you found your place between his spread legs, getting close enough to feel the pounding of his undead heart. You'd only seen his body in dim candlelight or withering rays of the moon, never truly illuminated by the glow of floating chandeliers nor the collection of sconces arching from the wall.

Slowly, your fingertips dragged along muscle, warm and firm under your calloused touch. The scars littering your hands and knuckles shone so stark against his perfect complexion. He really did seem too perfect. It would have sparked jealousy in your gut if he didn't apparently belong to you, and you to him. No one else got to touch. No one else got to see. 

Now, you were built finely yourself, but the man before you was something entirely different. You didn't know if it was thanks to his supernatural existence, but his body was built in a near-animalistic way that screamed power and speed, not similar enough to a human. Though, looking back, you did always think his manners in bed were more beast than man. The growling, the clawing, the marks of claim on the nape of your neck, it all clicked and made sense in the whirlwind of your mind. 

“I think a werewolf would suit you better,” you admitted. “What with the claws and biting and general uncouth behaviour.” 

Miguel huffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” His voice rang low and quiet, too aware he might scare off his prized hare if he put too much into his words. “You're the one acting like a rabid animal.” 

“No, you.” 

“Don't think so.” 

“You're difficult.” 

“You're one to talk.” 

“How long have you been like this?” Your fingers combed through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut. “A vampire. Or whatever you are.” 

“Lost track,” he said, sounding too honest. “I have records. Notes. From experiments. The dates on those are close to when it happened.” Experiments? Colour you intrigued.

“So you weren't exactly practicing white medicine?” You tilted your head in thought. “You were doing something more–” 

“It wasn't black magic,” Miguel scoffed. “It was science. Genetics. Studying how other organisms function, learning about them.” His expression darkened just the slightest bit. “Trying to…recreate them.” 

Your head spun a little trying to fill in the blanks. It wasn’t too hard, but it was hard to accept as reality. But if anyone were to unlock the damned secrets of immortality, of course it'd be this man. This cocky, genius, charming man. God really did have favourites, though they always did seem to disappoint him.

“I see. So you're telling me you're a genius who rebirthed vampires,” you summed up, letting your hands melt down his body, below the water's surface. “How is it you only get more and more impressive, Mr.O'hara?” 

A smug smirk bloomed across his lips. “It's just in my nature.” His head tilted back with a pleased sigh when your touch finally landed on that annoying thing prodding your thigh. “I have no choice but to succeed.” 

“Tch. Americans are so arrogant.” You hummed and leaned in, ghosting kisses along his vulnerable neck while your hand pleased him slowly, teasingly. His talons screeched against the tub again. “But maybe you have reason to be, hm? Given how accomplished you are.” 

A dark, scarlet haze like the sky of the blood moon illuminated Miguel's eyes in the few moments they slipped open to catch a glimpse of you. You wondered if he needed a reality check. Maybe he thought he was hallucinating, maybe he thought that you weren't really there despite being pressed up against him and murmuring useless quips into his skin. You'd be sure to leave an impression on him; your hand quickened, gripping tighter and pulling the way he directed you to far too many years ago, but his barbed hand caught your wrist. 

“Stop,” he gasped. His chest rose and fell with his light panting as he stared you down. Want radiated off of him like an animal starved. You knew what was rattling around in his mind before he even spoke. 

“You want to fuck me, is that it?” 

Miguel's breath hitched. 

–

You made him ravenous. You were the only thing he wanted to feast on, delicacies and sanguine temptations be damned. 

One of his large hands held your waist in a death grip while his other hand held your head down, forcing your incoherent ramblings into the soft, silken sheets as he rammed you from behind like a beast in heat. You took it well, too, not that you hadn't before–he always held back, appeared to you as human when he fucked you previously. But now that you knew the truth, now that you knew what lay hidden in the dark nooks of his bones’ marrow, he felt complete. And that meant he could completely lay claim to you, too. 

He matched the curve of your back with his chest when he leaned over you, burying his nose into your neck and shoulder to indulge in your scent. Your vampire's desire to breed slowed and steadied into deep, thoughtful rolls of his hips. Perhaps his mind had caught up with him and ushered him to slow down, to abandon some of that reckless excitement. 

Miguel heard the slightest mumble of his name on your lips and leaned down further to touch his own to your cheekbone. One arm looped underneath your throat in a benign chokehold of sorts, while his other hand threaded through your hair–if he wasn't fucking you like an animal before, this makeshift mating lock he had on you sealed the deal. 

“You feel good,” Miguel murmured, voice tickling the shell of your ear. 

“Hah. I, ah, always feel good,” you tried to quip back, but your expression betrayed the fraying threads of whatever self-control you still desperately clung to. “You’re, uh…unhinged, hey?” Miguel scoffed. “Like a…a wild beast.” 

“Oh?” A purr hummed through his chest, piercing your body and rattling through your own lungs in seismic pulses. “A wild beast? Flattering.”

“Really, darling, you don't have to be such a sarcastic asshole when you're–” a hard snap of his hips sent you spiraling for a moment, “--in my ass.” 

“Maybe you should watch your mouth,” he suggested. 

“Maybe you could watch it for me,” you countered. 

The warmth of his laugh sent chills scattering across your skin. He pulled out of you and turned you over, dragging your hips back against him before his powerful body engulfed yours again. Miguel liked this more. He liked the feeling of your hands grabbing and clawing at him, the way your thighs attached to his waist, how you bit your bottom lip while your eyes screwed shut from the overwhelming feeling of your partner destroying you.

And of course, his lips could meet yours like this. The sweet tang of copper and berries, a taste so familiar and so you, was shared between tongues, kept secret in the crevices of teeth. It amazed Miguel how much one little kiss could push him over the edge and make the bed creak and groan with you as he loved on you and made sure to send the message straight to your core. 

Your hands fisted in his hair when you came undone. That lovely voice of yours poured into Miguel's eager mouth, and you tightened, pulling him to the edge and pushing him over with the might of a wild stampede. Claws nipped your skin, fangs pierced deeper, yet his rutting hit deepest, and burned you alive with unbearable, liquid heat.

–

“Why me?” You asked into the stillness of the room. 

Calm silence answered you for a long moment. The sun bloomed beyond the thick curtains, you noticed in your wait, and you wondered if you would ever miss the sight. England never truly had bright, sunny days from what you recalled; stretches of smokey, grey overcast clouded the skies and your memories more often than not. Could your vampire walk amongst the living like this?

Miguel sighed, leaning into the hand carding through his hair. “Figured you’d understand.” 

“I’d understand what?”

“Killing to survive.” 

“How long have you known?” You wondered, unsurprised. 

“Blood tells stories,” he whispered. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered a moment before crimson eyes peered open the slightest bit. “Your story’s long. Complicated. You’re too young for it.” 

A smile twitched onto your face. You adjusted in the bed, getting more comfortable on your side in those pooling, satin sheets. “So you thought I’d be an easy target for sex, then? Desperate and young as I was.”

He found your eyes, his gaze earnest and bleeding. “I–you–fine, at first it was like you said. Maybe. But after enough time, I decided you weren’t like the rest. You’re as supernatural as I am.”

“Supernaturally handsome? I agree.”

“Stop.”

“You didn’t think I’d be afraid of you.”

“I’d hoped as much.” 

“And you still didn’t tell me.” Your fingertips danced along the arch of his cheekbone, leaving pleasant sparks against his skin in their wake, unbeknownst to you. “Were you scared?”

“I’d rather have you as a man for whatever time we had together than to lose you to a beast,” he explained, cryptic as one would expect an old legend to be. “I’ve lost too much already because of…this. Because of me. I didn’t want to lose more.” Miguel’s dark brows furrowed. “If you ended up fearing me to, I–”

You silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “Enough. I understand.” You palm smoothed back up to cup his face. “You needn’t be afraid of me–well, being afraid, I suppose. I’ll stay.” You took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “This bed’s too comfortable to give up, after all.”

His breath fanned against your skin as he chuckled, tired and perhaps tinted with disbelief. “Well, you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Brilliant. Would you even let me drink your blood?”

The rumble of a growl, or perhaps a purr, rolled through his chest into yours. You searched his eyes, wondering, hoping, and found mere slices of ruby peeking out from behind eclipsing pupils. 

“We’ll see.”

[weaper-reaper]

More König fluff and smut

I do apologize that I’ve been away for literally 5ever… sorry for all the fics I’ve abandoned there is a slight chance they still will be released. Until then, thank you always for the support. Here’s a treat for staying loyal and still RBlogging eventuality <3

CW: Fluff, Smut, Fingering, Creamies, KINDA SAFE SEX (literally unheard of), uhh this is KönigxYou btw, apparently ive been tagging my stuff wrong by writing xreader so forgive me ig, I’ve been craving intimacy and fluff irl so here you go, not proofed

Bzzzt… Bzzzt… Bzzzt

Your phone rattled the nightstand, clattering together the jewelry and pens that were haphazardly littered atop the smooth wood. With an annoyed grunt you twisted over to yank it from the cord it was plugged into. The bright screen made your eyes squint in through the darkness, text blurred- you answered it before knowing who was on the other side.

“Hey, uh.. hi.”

“König?” You asked out, the scratchy voice haunting and all too familiar.

There was an awkward staticky laugh through the speaker, and you sat up as your consciousness came rushing back.

“Yeah. Sorry it’s so late.” He apologized, and you pulled the phone from your ear to glance at the time. Just past midnight. “I just got back.”

His demeanor seemed to brighten as you put the cool glass back to your cheek. “Welcome back.”

“Listen.. I'm outside.”

Your heart stuttered, and you glanced to the window of your little studio, the moon sent streaks over the lonely little place you called home and a light rap sounded from the front door.

“Sorry I didn’t text,” He continued, voice stretched thin from exhaustion or travel. “I have something fo- actually, can you come to the door?”

You whipped your head around the room and your eyes landed on your bathrobe cast out lazily across the back of your chair. You snatched it up before responding.

“Yeah, yeah uhm.. hold on.”

“Okay.” He breathed, a hint of a smile on the end of his voice.

Throwing on the robe you rounded the corner from your bedroom, bare feet slapping against the tile on the floor. Without even bothering to peek through the looking hole, you unchained and unlocked the door, swinging it open wide.

König stood taller then you remembered, cast in shadows from the light in the hall. The dark seemed to loom just around him, hovering but an inch above his clothes. You met his cool gaze first, his eyes crinkled and he smiled under his hoodie.

He let the phone at the side of his face fall, and you pulled yours away then too.

“Hello.” He greeted. Smiley and with much more energy than you could’ve mustered this late at night.

“Hi.” You breathed back.

It had only been a few weeks since you last talked, but with him here at your door now- a strange look in his eye- it made it feel like months. The way he had left things made a bitter feeling resonate through your chest and your eyes quickly cast to anything but him. You cleared your throat and stepped to the side, inviting him in.

He had his bags with him, one sandy duffle bag and another giant backpack. You eyed them curiously as he dropped them, quickly answering before you could find the words to ask.

“Mission went a lot smoother than we thought, and my stuff is still in storage.. so.” He shrugged his outer jacket off and drops of water rolled down the nylon.

“It’s raining?” You asked, turning for the kitchen eyes cast over to the window again. Sure enough droplets you hadn’t noticed before stuck thick to the glass pane. “Some tea?” You offered, already putting the kettle on.

“Thank you.” He nodded, finding a spot against the cold counter to lean on.

He cleared his throat as you turned back to him, hands ruffling around in his pockets. He pulled a thin orange envelope from one of his cargo pockets and handed it flat out. You took it gingerly, suddenly too aware of the lack of clothing you sported. You tightened the robe before peeling open the packaging and pulling out the contents.

They were photos, mostly black and white, and definitely weathered. Some water spots bled around the corners making the ink smear and stick. You flipped through them excitedly.

“Oh!” You cooed, they were mostly photos of tall cliff sides, overgrown fields, the occasional tree or strange looking rock formation. You peeled apart one of them, it was a selfie- or an attempt at one. König stood infront of a lake, a few naked men stood behind him, one bent over and mooned the photo.

You laughed and glanced back over at König, a sweet smile was plastered over his face. You caught his eyes and a moment passed discreetly between you.

You had been so caught up in your own head since he left, the lack of communication drawing your feelings further and further from your own chest and you had worried he’d thought your relationship too difficult to handle while he was away. It’s not like he hadn’t been away before, but something made him seem even more distant now. He hadn't said goodbye to you this last time, just vanished. After a week you accepted the possibility of him ghosting you. But now, as his dark figure stuck out against the bright decor of your tiny kitchen, those feelings came flooding back.

The kettle squealed before you could finish your thoughts. Clearing your throat you gently set the pack of photos down onto the counter and poured out the dark liquid into two deep mugs. You handed him his, and his fingers brushed yours as he took it.

You could feel your chest heat up under the thick robe.

“Let me go change.” You whispered, breaking the silence. He set his mug down in response, and followed you to your room.

You glanced back over your shoulder at him as you passed through your doorway and blew a laugh down your nose, “Miss me that much, huh?” You joked that hidden hope, reaching for an old overnight shirt.

His arm stretched over yours suddenly grabbing the fabric with his chest at your back. He had moved so quickly you didn’t even have the chance to hear him take a step.

“I did.” He whispered softly, breath warm as it fanned over the cold shell of your ear.

You could swear your heart stopped, but then his lips were on yours in a flurry. He spun you and your robe had come undone with the movement, back now flush against the closet door. It’s hinges rattled as he all but threw you against it.

His lips were soft, and your heart raced.

It was the wetness then at your cheeks that stilled him. Slowly he peeled off of you and a hand rose to cup your jaw.

“Wh-why are you crying?”

You hadn’t noticed you were until he said something, but as your eyes met again a sob pulled from your lungs. He wasted no time in wrapping you up into his arms, pulling the two of you back onto the still warmth of your bed. You curled into him as your breathing slowed.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, raising the back of your palm to the corner of your eyes. “I just..” you started, quickly realizing it took so much energy to straighten out your thoughts.

“You left so suddenly, without saying anything.”

His brows grew tight, and his eyes cast downward heavily. “I know, I’m sorry.” Even he seemed choked back a bit.

“We weren’t allowed to tell anyone.” He continued, pulling you closer until you were practically laying on his chest. “I should’ve-“

“No it’s okay,” you interrupted, finding your voice again and apologizing, planting a palm on his chest. “It’s on me, I should’ve assumed I know your job is stressful I just..”

You drew your eyes up to his and let them cast over every feature of his face.

“I just missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Significantly more gently this time, he craned his neck down to meet your lips. The kiss was sweeter, softer and something unspoken drew under the both of you, sweeping the two of you up into your own perfect world. Slowly he twisted, and let a hand drag down your neck through the center of your chest before settling on your hip. The rough calluses on his fingertips drew shapes over your soft skin and you couldn’t help but fall victim to the shiver that raked through your body.

There was a tug at the corner of his lips as he smirked, pleased with your reactions. He whispered lowly again, voice thick and laid with his heavy accent. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, afraid of the noises you’d make if you opened your mouth.

With a grace a giant like him should never possess, he dipped his hand under the part in your robe and cupped at your core. A thick finger slid down your part, and then back up blossoming you open with ease. The pad of his middle finger brushed against the hood of your clit and he swallowed the gasp that pulled its way out of your lungs.

You pulled from his lips as he prodded your opening with two fingers, the tips circled your entrance and involuntarily your hips buckled upwards.

“There you go,” He sighed, slipping further and further until his knuckles were pressed up as far as they would go. You felt yourself clench around as he pulled out, willing them to stay.

He slid them in again, and curled them deliciously to drag down your walls with each tug. Your voice betrayed you and a groan escaped, he mimicked your noises, his own breath growing ragged and heavy. His hand worked away at your cunt, and his quickly growing hardness became evident at your side. He was rutting against you in time with his fingers.

You mewled into his lips and slid the arm draped around his neck down his front until your palm coaxed up the forceful protrusion against his zipper. His pace stuttered and your confidence grew with each breathy moan he released.

Delicately, he pulled his fingers from your heat and quickly tugged away at the fastening of his pants, a dark spot crowned his bulge when you looked down. With a new heat at his cheeks and ears, he replaced your hand for you atop his boxers and you immediately squeezed. A moan choked up in his throat and he buried his face into you neck and chest, littering the crevice with sloppy kisses.

Perhaps a little prematurely, you slipped that hand into his pants and against the heat of his skin, pulling his member out and taught between you. He hesitated a moment before returning a thumb to your clit.

He rose again after a moment to smother you into another heavy make out session before rolling over above you. His thick cock weaped against your hip, and an insane amount of pre pooled over the creases of your skin. The air seemed hot and unbearable as you shifted out of your robe completely. Pulling away for a moment, König also shimmied out of his clothes and returned to you in a flash, sticky bodies melting back into eachother.

Be it because of the well prepped lubrication, or simply because the stars were all in alignment, when he returned slotted perfectly against you, the tip of his cock nudged directly into the ring of your pussy.

You both stilled and he let out a pained sounding grunt.

“Fuck..” you paused. “Uhm, are you okay?” You blabbered out lamely.

“Yeah.” He responded almost instantly, a hesitant kind of shame hung over him. “It’s just, It’s been a long time. I don’t know if..”

“It’s okay,” you took over quickly, pulling your knees up and opening your legs enough to where he slid in just that much more.

“Schhhheisse..” he drawled out, “you’re too warm.”

You huffed a short laugh and reached down to circle at your own clit, letting your body adjust to the stretch of him. Tingles rushed through your body and your mind quickly became fuzzy. With a deep breath he let his fingers replace yours and he pulled away to push back in deeper than before.

Letting your head fall back, you let him work himself into you. Pulling his hips away before using his weight to shove it all back into you again, König built up a steady rhythm and your mind and body grew hot.

His arms slipped under your back, and he pulled you closer to him, each wet smack echoing through the empty room. The walls of your insides burned, and that familiar tightness below your belly made itself known.

“Ahh, ah.. fuck.” You whined, completely caged beneath him. “I can’t.. I think I’m close.” You stumbled out, clawing at the backs of his massive arms.

“I know.” He grunted, “Got-damn you’re getting so tight.”

Part of you wanted to apologize for his struggle, but a bigger part of you wanted to clench up your core tighter. The latter won and soon König thrusts grew shorter and sloppier. His moans equalling his unsteadiness. You pushed your hips up to meet him, grinding down your front to his pelvis, begging for more friction.

The head of him slammed suddenly against your cervix as he pulled your legs up, latching purchase behind your knees to effectively bend you in half. You shouted in surprise at the new angle, everything quickly becoming too much.

“Where can I-?” He began and you answered before he finished.

“Inside!” You shouted, then cried as his thrusts became rougher- more demanding. “Inside, I.. IUD. It’s safe.”

You couldn’t help but grind your hips up into him, a desperate attempt to hurry your aching clit along. His lips found yours again in a frenzied haze, and you came undone almost instantly. Your core pulsed and you cried out from under him as the waves shook through every inch of your body.

König followed with two more strong thrusts, his hips stuttering and locked within your tightness. You could feel the warmth flow up deep inside of you, and he practically collapsed above you, completely spent.

You both laid a moment together, and his sweet cadence finally broke the silence after your pussy stopped its throbbing. He attempted to pull out, but your cunt gripped him completely.

“Relax.” He almost chuckled. Embarrassment flushed your face as he dragged a soothing hand down your sides, pulling away with a hiss.

“Sorry..” you mumbled.

He cast his eyes back up to you in a flash, and smirked. “Don’t be.”

“Just give me ten, okay?”

You rolled away to cover your face, giggling.