🔞 CONTENT WARNING: SEX, FREAKY AHH SHIT 🔞
uhh i write fanfiction and uhh uhhh lmk what y’all think. i’m always open to feedback!!:)
neither of them really knew how this happened. it’d been a few weeks since they had gotten married, cossiel feeling more comfortable with her new husband. at least alastor wasn’t drunkenly slapping her with his rings affixed to each and every one of his fingers.
cossiel was nervous around alastor, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but there was a shred of doubt in her mind. when he turned the corner, she shuddered, when his shoulder brushed hers in the hallway, she trembled. even when their gazes would land on one another, she’d look the other way. her body anticipated his wrath, but it never came.
today was different, she couldn’t have prepared herself for this. he just came home, she was making dinner, keyword making, then suddenly they were in their bedroom.
cossiel had questioned his abruptness but he gave no answer, kissing her passionately as they traversed upstairs to their room. cossiel patting around the doorframe to find the knob, gently turning it and opening the door—their bodies pushing forward, steps carefully inching towards their bed. cossiel falling backwards—her curly locks all frizzled—sticking to her forehead from the sweat shared between them.
there he stood, impatiently taking off his bow tie, his velvet vest, tossing all his garments aside—cossiel was so confused. she stared up at their ceiling, she heard the clacking of shoes being removed—removed in a hurry, grunting in the process.
cossiel felt her body recede into itself,
she felt so small. so helpless. was this arousal? or was this fear? a mixture of both she presumed.
fixing her hair, she sat up—staring down at her lap. her fingers overlapping one another.
“alastor—“ she spoke quietly, her cheeks painted a bright red. “honey is something—“
he only responded by pushing her back down on bed, now only dressed in his boxers and garters. as his lips smashed against hers, knee rising towards her inner thighs—taking off her clothes like a wild animal. cossiel had never experienced such raw passion before, she didn’t mind it.
one thing lead to another, alastor had pinned her down on their plush bed, she coiled her legs around his waist—a constant thumping sound emitted from their wooden bed-frame slamming against their rose patterned wallpaper.
cossiel whimpered and whined, not exactly moaning, she wasn’t told to be vocal—nor has she ever experience true pleasure before. her right hand cradling his scalp, the left, her trimmed fingernails digging into his back.
his mouth was locked on her neck, her collarbone, her milky pale skin—redness immediately blooming beneath her flesh once he touched her.
the rush. the rush he felt knowing how sensitive, how delicate she is. god, it got him going. his rhythm got more erratic, pounding himself into her—cossiel’s grip on him tightened—he saw how red she was. something primal awakened in him, something dangerous—he flashed his teeth.
his canines digging into her skin, hard enough for it to bruise—his jaw locked, he kept biting down—feeling her flesh break open—a puddle of blood forming over the wound, trickling down to her breasts.
he pursed his lips against the wound, sucking it, her blood. like a god damn animal—it tasted to…succulent—he’d never tasted anything sweeter—as he lapped up her blood. alastor was so caught up in his own pleasure, his own sick sense of pleasure, he hadn’t heard cossiel begging and pleading for him to stop.
he lazily fixated on her terrified face—she couldn’t fight back—she wouldn’t fight back. she was scared of him. true fear. somehow, that snapped him back to reality—he scooted off of her—his dick admittedly still rock hard—seeing cossiel cower in fear. receding into herself once more.
still bleeding, he couldn’t muster up the strength to say he was sorry, it was a big bite too. he saw how big it was. it was like he left a dental impression on her neck.
cossiel huffed and puffed, shaking her head—grinning. “nono, nono. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have yelled—i shouldn’t—“ she got up, naked, exposed, hurt. stumbling to their bathroom, she saw the wound.
“it’s okay—it’s okay. i-i’ve dealt with worse—“ alastor provided no comfort, he still sat on their bed, wiping the blood on his lip—it stained his fingertips, he licked it. it still tasted so good. it was intoxicating, dare he say even better than his whiskey.
cossiel stood in front of the mirror, applying some bandages around the bite mark. he went after her like an animal. it made her shudder, tremble, quiver. the way he looked at her, the way his lustful gaze pierced into her soul. as if he was possessed by something, he had never looked at her like that.
maybe she did have a reason to be scared of him, maybe he was just like gregory. maybe she should just stop crying and continue smiling.
“he did it because he loves me, yes. yes. he loves me he does. he was just showing his love for me, is all. he loves me.”
as she was breaking down in their bathroom, alastor had laid on his back—sniffing the crimson from their sheets—gripping and stroking his shaft—it just smelt so good.
he had came like 3 times but nothing could beat this scent. he might have to dispose of these sheets, but save this for later. like a man jerking off to a ladies panties, but instead of panties—it was his wives blood stained pillow case.
cossiel peeked through the crack in the door, she couldn’t help but smile.
she was making her husband happy, and that’s all she wanted, right? as long as he’s happy, she’s happy. it was happiness, right? that’s what she was feeling. happiness. or fear.
once again, she couldn’t put her finger on it.
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